Meet Brittany Lauzon

We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Brittany Lauzon. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Brittany below.

Brittany , thanks so much for taking the time to share your insights and lessons with us today. We’re particularly interested in hearing about how you became such a resilient person. Where do you get your resilience from?

As a kid, my so-called leadership skills usually came out as bossiness, tangled with what I would later discover at the age of thirty-one was high functioning ADHD. I can still picture my teachers talking to my mom, convinced I would never keep up in class and never survive in the workforce. Those conversations carved deep grooves in me that stayed for years.

Nobody was paying attention to ADHD back then, especially how differently it shows up in females compared to the “classic” signs in males. I tried to tell teachers and the resource counsellor that something was wrong, that I might have a learning disability. They brushed me off. Not serious. They tested me for dyslexia, which I did not have, and left it at that. By grade ten, I believed them. I believed I was stupid. I believed I was already written off. When every meeting about your performance is negative, it is hard not to make that your whole identity.

So I stopped trying. I stopped going to most classes. Then I stopped going to school altogether. I became the bad kid they had already decided I was, and eventually I was expelled. At sixteen, I had five credits and no plan, no direction, no sense of a future.

Building my resilience started at a young age. When people label you as a bad kid, the kid who is not capable, it is almost impossible to escape it, no matter how much work you put in. I did therapy. I pulled up my grades. I proved I could be successful, at least by society’s version of a successful student. But even then, people doubted me. The closest ones to me knew how hard I was working, and the school that finally accepted me saw my strides and reminded me I was getting somewhere.

I had one incredible teacher, Mrs. Laderoute, during my last years of high school who made me feel like I was not broken, just different. She understood that the structure of regular education is not one size fits all. She set me up in a program where I could thrive, and suddenly I was catching up at lightning speed. At one point, I earned ten credits in six months. I will never forget the support she gave me, or how she handed me the tools I needed to survive the school system.

Still, that cloud of doubt never stopped following me. Resilience was being built in me without me even realizing it. At the time, it felt more like breaking down and starting over, again and again. But each time I stood up, my strength was shining, even if my younger self could not see it.

Fast forward: I did what most people do. I went to college right after high school. But after a year, I knew my heart was not in it. So I packed my bags and moved to Europe. For the first time, I only had myself, and I had to trust that would be enough.

In Europe, I built a life that looked nothing like the one I had left behind. Back home, I was still carrying the labels of my past. There, I was free to become who I actually was. I formed some of the best friendships of my life, people who saw me without judgment, people who did not know my history, only the person I was becoming. That freedom solidified how I wanted to live, and how I wanted to see myself.

Life has a way of testing you in new ways once you step into adulthood. For me, resilience showed up every time I was told no, every time something I built fell apart, and every time I had to start over from scratch. Unlike in school, where the labels clung to me, in adult life I learned that the only label that mattered was the one I gave myself.

For a long time, I leaned on other people to validate my ideas – courses I wanted to take, projects I wanted to start, changes I wanted to make. Sometimes I got encouraging feedback, but more often I felt lost and self-conscious, like I needed reassurance that I was not being ridiculous. The cloud of doubt was still there, though not as heavy.

It took breaking ties and doing my own thing to finally understand: this is my life, and I should trust myself. By my mid-twenties I was being my own boss, trusting myself more than ever, with that little rain cloud still above my head but no longer steering me. I still bounced ideas off people, sometimes letting their doubts confuse me, until finally, in my thirties, I told myself: stop asking for permission, just do it. Who cares what people think? Most people chase comfort, and being an entrepreneur is anything but comfortable. Comfort bores me. I crave the fast lane. Anytime I got comfortable, I would challenge myself again and merge back into the fast lane. Exhausting, maybe, but it is who I am.

In business, resilience has been my survival tool. I have built companies, lost clients, faced financial strain, and kept going. Every setback felt familiar. It reminded me of being that kid who had to push harder just to be seen. And every time, I pulled myself back up. That same persistence I learned in classrooms where I was written off became the driving force behind my success as an entrepreneur. Every challenge lit a fire under me. Every doubt fueled me to prove otherwise. Fear only holds you back. And if I failed, it was just a lesson learned. I would take note, apply it to my strategy moving forward, and press on. You win some, you lose some. Today, whenever I have a good idea, I write it down and save it for later. Some I will chase, while others I will let sit until I know the timing is right. Either way, I keep moving.

Motherhood gave me a new layer of resilience, but from a different angle. As a mother, resilience has taken on a deeper meaning. My children see me not only as someone who provides for them, but as someone who keeps showing up even when things are hard. I want them to understand that strength is not about being unshaken, it is about rising after the shake.

We are a military family, which brings its own earthquakes. On top of being a business owner, I am often the main caregiver for my two young girls during long stretches when my husband is away. Those seasons test me in ways nothing else does, but they also remind me that resilience is not just about surviving, it is about modeling courage, patience, and persistence for the next generation.

My girls have watched me do everything from cooking and cleaning to fixing things people usually assume men will handle. They have seen me out in the yard, taking care of our home, and they have seen me working on myself in my career. What I hope they carry with them is not the image of a perfect mother, but the memory of a mother who showed up no matter what, and tried as best as she could.

I also try to see my daughters for who they are as individuals. Even if I do not fully understand their perspective or their passions, I remind them that they are unique, and that the world is not designed to serve every unique quality. Schooling offers a better version of one-size-fits-all, but it still carries limits. I tell them that what school teaches about expectations, about what a “solid career” is supposed to look like, are only guidelines. They are free to pave their own path, one that is true to who they are.

And in guiding them, I remind myself of the same lesson – resilience is not just about pushing forward at any cost, it is also about honoring who you are, setting your own pace, and building a life that feels true to yourself.

Resilience is often mistaken for hustle culture, the idea that you have to push endlessly, grind harder, and never stop moving. My story may look like a hustle, but resilience is not about burning yourself out. It is about showing up for yourself. It is about caring for your body and your mind, because without that foundation I could not be where I am today.

I have had to learn how to love myself even in seasons when I hated myself. That meant facing the moments I felt broken, the days when the weight of everything seemed too much, and still choosing to rise. Resilience is not about being unstoppable. It is about pausing, taking care of yourself, and then stepping forward again with strength you did not know you had. It about finding that strength,

And in my personal life, resilience has meant finding my voice. Learning to speak up, even when it is uncomfortable. Learning to set boundaries, even when people do not understand them. Learning that being different is not a flaw, it is a power.

I still doubt myself today, and I know that doubt will never fully leave me. In a lot of ways, doubt is healthy. I have learned how to work with it. Sometimes that doubt saves me from a bad idea or redirects me when I need it most. Other times, I admit, I sit in situations that no longer serve me for far too long. It is exhausting, and it forces me to be resilient when I should have just walked away. Now I am trying to build a new kind of strength – the strength to let go sooner, to protect myself from unnecessary pain. How that will go is a story for another day. But I trust myself that I will get there, even if I have not figured it out yet.

And as I remind my daughters that they are unique, that the world was not built to celebrate every unique quality, I remind myself of the same thing. Schooling, careers, expectations – they are only guidelines, not destiny. My daughters are free to carve their own paths, and in guiding them, I continue to carve mine.

Looking back, I see that resilience has been the thread connecting every chapter of my life – from the misunderstood kid in school, to the young woman searching for her place, to the entrepreneur, the wife, and the mother I am now. And while the story is full of struggle, it is also full of proof that no matter how many times you fall, you can always rise again.

Thanks, so before we move on maybe you can share a bit more about yourself?

I wear a few hats, but the common thread is storytelling and connection. I am the owner of Commercial On Hold Marketing Inc., a family business that has been helping companies strengthen their brand through voice and audio since 1983. I also founded Outcast Media, a podcast production company that gives a platform to small businesses and everyday people with extraordinary stories. Outcast also works with creators to edit and produce their podcasts, making sure every show is polished and ready to shine. In addition, I serve as an AI Advisor for CAVA, where I explore the future of voice technology and help shape how AI can be used responsibly in communications.

What excites me most about what I do is that I get to bring voices to life, whether it’s through audio branding for a national company, producing a podcast that shines a light on someone’s journey, polishing a creator’s show, or advising on the next wave of AI and voice innovation. My work is never about surface-level polish; it’s about authenticity and creating something that truly connects.

Right now, I’m especially excited about expanding our podcast work at Outcast Media. We are building new series that highlight community changemakers, resilient women, and unique career paths for youth. At the same time, at Commercial On Hold Marketing, we’re developing innovative audio solutions that integrate both human voice and AI, giving businesses the best of both worlds.

At the heart of it all, my brand is about honesty, resilience, and creating spaces where people feel heard, whether that’s through a phone line, a podcast episode, or emerging AI tools.

If you had to pick three qualities that are most important to develop, which three would you say matter most?

The three qualities that have carried me the farthest are resilience, self trust, and adaptability.

Resilience, because life will knock you down in ways you do not expect. You cannot control that. What you can control is the choice to stand back up. For me, resilience was not just about surviving tough seasons, it was about learning how to rebuild when things fell apart.

Self trust, because for a long time I let other people’s opinions guide me. I needed their reassurance. But the real growth came when I stopped asking for permission and started trusting my own instincts. It is not about arrogance, it is about knowing that you are the one who has to live with your choices.

Adaptability, because nothing ever goes exactly as planned. In business, in motherhood, in life, I have had to shift, pivot, and start over more times than I can count. Being able to bend without breaking has been just as important as pushing forward.

My advice for anyone early in their journey: Do not wait for the perfect plan. Start now, trust yourself, and know that resilience and adaptability are built through experience, not theory. You will make mistakes. That is where the best lessons live.

What’s been one of your main areas of growth this year?

My biggest area of growth this past year has been learning how to slow down and trust myself. For most of my life, I equated resilience with constant motion, always building, always fixing, always proving. Over the last twelve months I have realized that resilience can also mean pausing, listening to myself, and making choices from a place of clarity instead of panic.

I have gotten better at setting boundaries, saying no when something does not align, and recognizing that not every opportunity is meant for me. That has been huge. I still have that instinct to hustle and take on everything, but now I can step back and ask: does this serve me, or is it just noise?

This shift has changed the way I show up in my business, in motherhood, and in my own head. I am still ambitious, but I am no longer running on autopilot. I am more intentional, and that has been the biggest growth of all.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://cohm.com/outcastmedia/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/outcastmediainc/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61573305955570
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/brittany-lauzon-9a334347/