Meet Cat Ski

 

Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Cat Ski. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Cat , we’re thrilled to have you sharing your thoughts and lessons with our community. So, for folks who are at a stage in their life or career where they are trying to be more resilient, can you share where you get your resilience from?

Resilience isn’t something you wake up one day and decide to have. It’s shaped in you — often in ways you don’t even recognize until much later. For me, resilience began before I had words for it.

I was born in Korea while my parents were preparing to immigrate to the United States. Because of visa delays, they left me with relatives for the first year and a half of my life. I didn’t know that story until I was sixteen, when my mother revealed it during an argument and showed me her C-section scar. That moment shook me — but it also helped me understand why I’d always carried a deep fear of being left behind. Resilience, for me, began there: in separation, in learning to live without guarantees.

As a child, I stood out everywhere. My schools were almost entirely white; I wasn’t “Korean enough” for family who stayed close to the community, and I wasn’t “American enough” for my classmates. Belonging wasn’t given to me — I had to build it myself. I learned how to adapt, how to rise above environments that weren’t made for me, and how to hold on to who I was even when no one else saw it.

That lesson carried into my career. I began as an executive assistant, learning leadership from just outside the door, and through work ethic and grit, I eventually sat inside the room as CEO. Along the way I became SVP of Sales and Marketing, GM of North America, launched startups, and took on positions in industries where I often had no prior experience. But I also worked jobs that kept me close to people’s everyday lives — as a waitress, in event production, and in non-profit roles. Nothing was handed to me — but I proved, over and over, that if you put in the work, you can grow into anything.

And still, resilience is not only about achievement. It’s about returning. In my twenties, I tried to act and sing, long before Asian faces were welcomed in entertainment. I didn’t break through then — the doors simply weren’t open. But the dream never left me. Decades later, now twice the age of many of my classmates, I returned. I stepped into acting classes, stages, and roles that once would have seemed impossible.

To me, resilience isn’t about being fearless. It’s about showing up scared — and doing it anyway. It’s about beginning again, even when people don’t expect you to. It’s about coming home to yourself, no matter how long it takes.

Appreciate the insights and wisdom. Before we dig deeper and ask you about the skills that matter and more, maybe you can tell our readers about yourself?

Today, I live at the intersection of two worlds that feed each other. On one side, I’m an actor, singer, and writer — reclaiming the creative life I once left behind. On the other, I’m a consultant, drawing on decades of leadership and entrepreneurial experience to help others bring their visions to life. Art taught me how to reach people’s hearts, business taught me how to build things that last — together, they’ve shaped how I create impact.

In the arts, I feel most alive when I get to break open a stereotype and show a different truth. Recently, I performed in We Will Rock You as Buddy — a role traditionally written for an older white man, reimagined for the first time as an Asian woman. I also debuted a solo storytelling piece that left the audience in tears. In those moments, I felt what I’d been chasing all along: that the more honest I became, the more others saw themselves in my story. That’s what excites me now — creating work that sparks recognition, that moment when someone says, “That’s my story too.”

At the same time, I carry the perspective of someone who has led at the highest levels of business. I’ve run startups, led North America for a global brand, and held senior leadership roles that stretched me in every direction. My career wasn’t a ladder I climbed in a straight line — at times I stepped back from titles for balance — but every turn gave me something I carry forward. Today, I use that experience to consult with brands, especially in the natural CPG space, helping them launch and grow in ways that are both strategic and sustainable.

Across it all — from the stage to the boardroom, from being a mother to being a lifelong pet mom — the thread is the same: nothing has ever been wasted. Every chapter feeds the next. My path has never been linear, but it has always been true.

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

Adaptability.
Adaptability has been my lifeline — not only in work, but in identity and family. For me, adaptability has been less about surviving and more about transforming. My life has never followed a single script — I’ve shifted industries, reinvented careers, and stepped into new spaces where I had little experience. I also had to adapt my sense of self — growing up between cultures, navigating family dynamics, and learning how to belong in spaces where I often stood out. Each pivot demanded flexibility, humility, and faith that I could grow into whatever the moment required. Adaptability, to me, is the ability to bend without breaking, to keep becoming without losing yourself.

Tenacity.
If adaptability is how I move through the world, tenacity is what drives me through every challenge. Early in my career, I was given an award for being “most tenacious,” and I’ve carried that word with me ever since. I’ve always had a fearless hunger to learn, and I don’t stop until I master what I set out to do. That’s how I’ve taken on everything from launching startups to studying oriental medicine, from corporate leadership to creative work. I don’t believe in failure — not because everything comes easily, but because I keep going until I find a way. Tenacity has been my greatest teacher, earned across decades of roles and experiences, both in and out of work.

Compassion.
For a long time, I thought resilience meant toughness. But what has carried me furthest is compassion. Compassion for others — like when I cared for my father during his illness and we healed years of estrangement. Compassion for my mother, whose own struggles once kept her distant. But most of all, compassion for myself — the ability to keep going without perfection, to forgive mistakes, to honor my own pace. Love can heal estrangement. I’ve lived it.

Advice for others:
Don’t wait for perfect timing or permission. Adapt when life asks you to, meet challenges with tenacity, and let compassion anchor you. If you trust your capacity to grow and refuse to give up, you’ll be amazed at what becomes possible.

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

My biggest growth this past year has been fully claiming my identity as an artist. For so long, I defined myself by titles and responsibilities. But artistry requires a different kind of strength — vulnerability, presence, and the courage to be seen exactly as you are.

In the last twelve months, I’ve shared my own writing on a stage alongside seasoned storytellers — including Moth StorySlam winners, a GrandSlam champion, and an author featured in The Moth’s published collection. I also acted in nearly a dozen short films, one of which received a festival award, and recently appeared in a feature film with a role that, while small, marked a meaningful step in my return to screen work.

What I’ve discovered is simple, but profound: growth isn’t about climbing higher, it’s about daring to stand in your truth. This year, I stopped asking if I belonged. I realized I always did. My growth has been the shift from proving myself to simply being myself — and trusting that is enough.

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