Meet MaKinlie McRae

We were lucky to catch up with MaKinlie McRae recently and have shared our conversation below.

MaKinlie, thanks for taking the time to share your lessons with our community today. So, let’s jump right in – one of the most essential skills for unlocking our potential is self-discipline. Where does your self-discipline come from?

The smell of freshly popped popcorn drifts through the air as the VHS tape clicks and clacks into place. The living room lights are dim, and the familiar Disney castle flickers across my early-2000s television screen. I sink deeper into the couch, wide-eyed and unaware, as the princess is rescued from her misfortune by the valiant prince. Little did I know, these films are called fairytales for a reason. As a young girl, Disney taught me to wait for a hero. Adulthood taught me to become one.

There’s no rescue scene in this story. The only person coming to save you is yourself. Self-discipline isn’t born from magic or fate—it’s built one choice at a time, by showing up again and again, steady in that decision.

Most people become adults at eighteen. I became one at fifteen, the day my father took his own life. That was the moment I realized no one was coming to save me. My hero was gone, so the princess saved herself.

From that day on, I worked at least two jobs to support myself while attending high school, college, and extracurriculars. When you’re in survival mode, self-discipline isn’t a virtue—it’s a necessity. Would I have loved to throw myself onto the floor and drown in a puddle of tears? Absolutely. But life doesn’t pause for heartbreak. Every morning, I had to make the conscious choice to stand up and keep going, despite the weight of grief pressing down.

On the hardest days, I repeated my father’s last words like a mantra: Keep kicking ass. He’d said it after watching me win the high jump at my high school track meet—a grueling five-round jump-off for first place. When the bar finally stayed up, I ran straight into his arms, laughing as he swung me around in celebration. He whispered those words, gave me a high-five, and then I never saw him again.

That jump-off feels like a metaphor for my life since he passed. No matter the opponent or how many rounds it takes, I have to keep clearing the bar.

By the time I left for college, my relationship with my family was fraught with contention—and still is. I learned to navigate adulthood alone. I rarely asked for help, afraid the favor would later be held over my head, and that fear hardened into hyper-independence. If there was a problem, I was the one who had to solve it—financial, relational, or otherwise.

At the end of the day, I knew the only person I could truly rely on to show up for me was me. I attended art shows alone, proudly displaying my work while others were surrounded by family and friends. When I was accepted into graduate school, my decision was questioned instead of celebrated. Congratulations take a back seat when your choices defy your family’s expectations.

Despite that, I graduated with honors and accepted a job offer before my feet even crossed the stage to receive my Master of Fine Arts diploma.

The years that followed tested me in new ways. I moved to a part of the state no one wants to visit, became a wife, and left behind the friends and found family who had once grounded me. The depression that followed was deep and relentless—the kind that whispered old, dangerous thoughts I hadn’t heard since 2019. I reached out for help, more than once. Everyone knew I was struggling. Still, I was left to piece myself back together alone.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I showed up for work with a practiced smile, met deadlines, checked in on loved ones, and kept going, even when the sadness in my eyes betrayed me. This year, I turned twenty-eight, and I’ve never been prouder of myself for surviving twenty-seven.

Every day, I lift the bar a little higher—not to prove I can clear it, but because I know I will. Maybe that’s what self-discipline really is: the quiet act of saving yourself, over and over again. Somewhere between the grief and the grit, I found the kind of magic Disney never showed me.

Let’s take a small detour – maybe you can share a bit about yourself before we dive back into some of the other questions we had for you?

I currently work full-time as a Creative Lead for a Kansas-based tech company, a role I’ve held for the past three years. My days are filled with design, photography, concept development, and helping guide the overall creative direction of our brand. The company culture is progressive and people-centered, and I truly love the team I get to create alongside. This October, we celebrated 20 years in business, and it was an honor to help shape the creative vision for our 20th Anniversary campaign—a milestone that reminded me how much can grow from a single idea nurtured over time.

Beyond my full-time work, my freelance practice allows me to stay rooted in community and storytelling. Recently, I designed menus for Storytellers, a new restaurant in Hays, KS; developed branding for Oz Branding, a local apparel design company in Osborne, KS; and created a full community campaign for Plainville, KS, which included a logo, street banners, merchandise designs, and social media graphics to launch the initiative. I’ve also had many opportunities to bring stories to life through photography, capturing everything from portraits to small moments that speak quietly but deeply.

As much as I’d love to dive more fully into my personal artistic work, many of my projects have been paused, waiting patiently on the back burner, due to the current economy and the time, travel, and resources they require. I rarely sell my artwork, as most of it is deeply rooted in storytelling, whether it’s my own or that of someone who’s moved me. Each piece feels like a conversation, and for that reason, it’s hard to create with financial return in mind. These days, I focus on projects that help me stay balanced, both creatively and practically. Still, I hold hope that with time, and a steadier world, I’ll have the freedom to revisit the ideas that continue to call to me.

Lately, I’ve been exploring somatic art therapy as a way to connect emotion and creation more intentionally. The idea of using movement and art as a form of release feels like a natural extension of how I already create, and I’m eager to see how it might open new doors in both my personal and professional work.

There is so much advice out there about all the different skills and qualities folks need to develop in order to succeed in today’s highly competitive environment and often it can feel overwhelming. So, if we had to break it down to just the three that matter most, which three skills or qualities would you focus on?

The first is self-discipline. I’ve learned that showing up consistently, whether for a client project, a personal artwork, or even just a small creative experiment, has a way of compounding over time. It’s not always glamorous, but the ability to see things through has been the backbone of growth in both my professional and personal practice.

The second is storytelling through different mediums. From graphic design and branding to photography and community projects, I’ve realized that being able to shape and share a story makes work meaningful. It’s not just about making something look good; it’s about connecting with people and conveying something that matters, whether it’s a brand, a community, or a personal idea.

The third is curiosity and adaptability. I’ve learned to stay open to new techniques, tools, and ways of thinking. Some of my most rewarding projects have come from experimenting, taking a risk, or trying something outside my comfort zone. Curiosity keeps the work alive and helps me continue growing, even when circumstances shift.

For anyone early in their journey, my advice would be to start small and be consistent. Build habits that keep you creating, even when it’s just a little every day. Pay attention to the stories around you and practice telling your own, in whatever medium feels natural. And stay curious, be willing to explore, experiment, and sometimes fail. Those experiences will shape not just your skills, but the way you see the world and your place in it.

Who has been most helpful in helping you overcome challenges or build and develop the essential skills, qualities or knowledge you needed to be successful?

I’ve come to realize that the person who has helped me the most in my growth…is myself. My self-discipline has been like learning to clear that high jump bar, over and over, each attempt teaching me how to adjust, how to trust my own instincts, and how to push a little higher than before. Experience has been the practice field, full of small trials, missteps, and moments of quiet progress that gradually build skill and confidence. And failure, every time I’ve hit the bar instead of soaring over it, has been the teacher I didn’t know I needed, showing me where to refine, where to rest, and where to try again.

Through it all, I’ve learned that growth comes less from guidance handed down by others and more from showing up, paying attention, and trusting myself. Each attempt, each challenge, each stumble is part of the journey, and every time I push past the bar, I carry forward the lessons that prepare me for the next so I can, “Keep kicking ass.”

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: BoldJourney is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems,
so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.
Where does your self-discipline come from?

One of the most essential skills for unlocking our potential is self-discipline. We asked some

Kicking Imposter Syndrome to the Curb

This is the year to kick the pesky imposter syndrome to the curb and move

Beating Burnout

Often the key to having massive impact is the ability to keep going when others