The Rose Ave Story
More Time Means More Freedom
… and that’s what I want for every woman. At its core, Rose Ave exists to ease the burden of invisible labor and life admin by creating intentional supports, so women can spend their limited time and energy in community, connection, and the parts of life that light them up, rather than feeling drained by systems that were never designed to support them.
When support for the unseen work of living is absent, it doesn’t disappear. It becomes fiercely individualized.
I’ve experienced invisible labor from both sides of an unsustainable coin. There was a version where I carried an inequitable share within a partnership, and a version where I was living alone and solely responsible, without any built-in support. While living solo, I began to envision and build a different life for myself, one that leveraged my business operations acumen to streamline my own life admin. I thought I was already pretty organized, but as I dug a bit deeper, I started to experience immediate relief by applying this method. Better sleep, mental clarity, and energy to pursue creative outlets. I wanted other women to experience this deeper level of relief, and so, Rose Ave was born. This work is straightforward, but change isn’t always easy. I’m here to guide you by offering a structured approach that reduces decision fatigue and overwhelm.
Meet Lindsi
I have spent more than 20 years working in the mental health and public health fields, where I learned early that wellbeing is holistic. It is emotional, and physical, and shaped by systems, structure, environment, and access. Throughout my career, I have taken a holistic approach to complex challenges by identifying patterns, building processes, and designing solutions that balance efficiency with humanity.
An operations leader and certified project manager by trade, my work requires blending structure with empathy to build systems that are sustainable, scalable, and human-centered. I am a systems thinker with a soft spot for people and a desire to understand the human experience. And I am committed to creating conditions that allow more joy in this lifetime.
Rose Ave started as a place.
When I was in elementary school, my family and I lived in a mauve-colored duplex on Rose Ave that had a flat roof and a front porch that leaned slightly to the right. It wasn’t exactly white picket fence territory, but it was alive with a sort of realness. My upstate New York hometown’s nickname is the City of the Hills, and Rose Ave was no exception. It began at the stoplight intersection of Main & Rose and cascaded sharply downward for several blocks until it leveled out over the train tracks at the end of the street. On the other side of the tracks was a cement company, and cement trucks were constantly hauling their rotating drums up and down the hill. If the neighbor kids and I were outside when they passed, we’d motion for the drivers to honk their horns, and they usually obliged. To this day, I don’t understand who in that small town perpetually needed cement, but I suppose that was part of the usually unseen work of living that runs in the background without much applause.
The length of the street was lined with residential houses, aside from the indoor tennis facility and Coddington’s Florist (how fitting). Part industrial, part recreational, part flowery abundance, Rose Ave had a little bit of everything. My favorite part about living there, though, was riding my bike to the top of the hill, only to turn around and race as fast as I could down the middle of the road with the kind of reckless abandon that only an eight-year-old who had just gotten her first taste of freedom could possess. In those moments, the lopsided porches and unkempt lawns became a blur.
In many ways, adulthood feels similar to that childhood ecosystem. It can be messy. There’s a lot of unseen and uncelebrated work of daily living, and hopefully there are moments of freedom and flowers. My hope for every woman is to have more of the latter.