While a beauty queen title and a handsome NFL boyfriend might be the makings of a Hallmark movie, for newly minted entrepreneur Jessica VerSteeg, a seemingly perfect life in the spotlight took a traumatizing, but eventually rewarding detour.
The brunette beauty queen, who won the Miss Iowa US pageant in 2014, has launched an unlikely business in an unlikely industry, and it's because of a personal experience that forever changed her life. SWAAY spoke with VerSteeg about her crown, her difficult path, and the new marijuana business that emerged as a result.
“I would love to have my own dispensary one day," says VerSteeg, Chief Executive Officer of marijuana subscription business, AuBox. “The cannabis industry has given me a new sense of purpose."
Back in 2012, VerSteeg was gracing the covers of magazines and dating a New York Giant named Tyler Sash. The two were living in Iowa part-time, and VerSteeg said her life was like a dream.
“He bought us a home in Iowa so we could be near our families and we spent a lot of time there during the off season," says VerSteeg, a working model at the time. “I thought maybe I could become Miss Iowa and help bring attention to the state."
Her confidence proved predictive, in 2012 VerSteeg went on to compete in the Miss Iowa USA pageant, where she placed first runner up. In 2013 VerSteeg's then boyfriend was released from the Giants due to what was at least his fifth NFL concussion. VerSteeg and Sash decided to move back to Iowa full-time so Sash could be around family and focus on getting healthy. While spending more time in Iowa, VerSteeg decided to try out for Miss Iowa USA 2013 and after again being named first runner up, she entered the Miss United States pageant, the precursor to Miss World. This time VerSteeg won the 2014 Miss Iowa US crown, and went on to compete in Miss United States, where she placed in the top ten.
VerSteeg says that despite the public smiles, she was struggling at home because her partner was suffering from immense pain - emotionally, mentally, and physically. The man she loved had been changing over the last few years, developing intense mood swings, and in 2014 the changes became "scary. His depression felt like a nightmare, his memory started to slip, he was vomiting daily, and sleeping non stop," she says.
VerSteeg thought maybe Sash had early dementia due to his head injuries and increasingly erratic behavior, but the people she confided in would tell her it's impossible because he is so young. “Everyone thought I was crazy for thinking it's something more, but I knew something was seriously wrong," she says. "His actions were becoming unpredictable."
According to VerSteeg, the NFL led him to a dependency of prescription painkillers and then did nothing to help him after ending his contract. "They did nothing to help him with all of his pain, and they did nothing to slowly wean him off of the disgusting amount of painkillers they were giving him while he was playing in the NFL," says VerSteeg, who became physically and emotionally ill from the mental strain.
“You could tell something was wrong with me, but I tried to hide my stress and all of our fights for almost two years. Mostly because I thought he was going to get better and I didn't want people to judge our relationship on all of the fighting," says VerSteeg.
After trying to make the relationship work, VerSteeg says she realized she needed to move on and find peace in her own life. With the help of her parents she moved to the Bay Area and tried to regroup from the trauma of a relationship she says became abusive at times. It was at this time she began exploring the cannabis industry.
“I didn't know anyone in my new town, and that was on purpose; I used my condo as a hideaway," says VerSteeg. “San Francisco is an extremely entrepreneurial city, and there were new startups popping up all around me.
I started getting to know [these young founders] and hanging out with them. Because San Francisco is also a very weed-friendly city, I noticed many of these entrepreneurs were smoking marijuana and still creating these amazing companies that save lives or change lives. I realized weed wasn't as bad as I had thought."
After about a year of recovery, VerSteeg says she heard from Sash, who reached out as he knew she would be heading home for a visit in October.
But before she could make it back to Iowa, Sash passed away suddenly, leaving VerSteeg heartbroken and in a state of shock.
“My perfect American life just crumbled," says VerSteeg. “I thought 'Why did this happen to my Prince Charming."
Despite feeling totally deflated, it was around the same time that filming began for the Amazing Race, a show which VerSteeg had previously signed on for.
“Thankfully I had signed up for the Amazing Race and I had to go," says VerSteeg. “I had a partner I was committed to and a contract with CBS, so I stuck to my commitment and went on to film the show. We were traveling around the world yet I was stressed and in a sleep deprived state. But The Amazing Race was my life savior. It kept me going. In the end I decided life isn't about what has happened to you it's about what you can do to change it and help others. I didn't want others to suffer the way I did, the way he did, the way his fans did, the way his family and then girlfriend did, the way his teammates did. I decided if I'm going to keep going, the only way was to tell the truth about what really happened to help people in a positive way."
Looking back, VerSteeg says she wishes she knew how many pills the NFL was really giving Sash. She also wishes she had known more about CTE, but at the time the diagnosis was virtually unknown.
"The NFL hid CTE from the players and their families for a while," says VerSteeg. "After a few players passed away and had positive tests of CTE, the NFL had no choice but to acknowledge it. It's too late for the strong men we have already lost, but now future players will be aware of this disease."
Once she got her bearings after Sash's death, VerSteeg became even more committed to seeing through her cannabis idea into a business, inspired in part by her former boyfriend's memory. At the time of Sash's illness Versteeg had no idea how addictive painkillers really were and how helpful cannabis was for pain, so "looking out for his best interest I told him to not risk the NFL career he worked so hard for and to trust the NFL doctors."
However, once she learned more about cannabis, VerSteeg says, “I thought maybe if he would have smoked weed, he wouldn't have had this addiction and this accidental overdose wouldn't have happened. I started to talk to other ex-NFL players. They told me they smoked because they too were scared of the pills. At that point I knew I had to do something. I wanted to help people in pain. I rallied and picked myself back up."
Inspired by her favorite color gold and luxury, VerSteeg launched a self-funded subscription box business, comprised of marijuana inspired accessories and infused snacks. Including between five and eight items in box like 24K gold rolling papers, gilded vape pens, hemp-derived coffee, beauty products, and an ample variety of edibles like honey, gummies and elixirs, the box retails for $100, but is valued between $175 and $190 a month. Customers can choose between subscription packages for 1,3, 6 or 12 months, or individual purchases of a la cart products.
Looking to the future, VerSteeg, who spends a lot of time attending city council meetings and following how the marijuana laws are changing, is optimistic for the industry.
“I do foresee it changing, one thing I think will come into action is a way to ship and deliver across the states, but that's years ahead of us," says VerSteeg, who is currently looking for investors. “With marijuana everyone understands the laws are difficult to work with and ever-changing, and so is my business model. I would love to eventually have my own brick and mortar in LA and SF so we don't have to hire drivers to transport it so far."
"Bare down and push like you're taking the biggest dump of your life," were the wise words of my midwife during the last leg of labor.
My husband and I had sat in traffic on the George W. bridge for close to three hours on a Sunday night while I bellowed God-knows-what during erratic contractions. Deepak Chopra whispered sweet nothings into my ear by way of our car's speakers. Side note: if you don't listen to Deepak's meditations, you should. Between bursts of stab-like contractions, I'd say adorable things such as, “honey, the stars look beautiful tonight, don't you think?" and “wow, the new flowers in front of our townhouse are incredible."
Now it was 3 a.m. on Monday morning, and wisps of euphoria had transformed into savage rage.
I'd spent most of the pregnancy crippled by headaches and nausea. By the last trimester, my pelvis had cratered, I could barely walk, and the baby slept upright over my bladder in a permanent ninja kick. This was not an optimal position for my daughter's debut exit from my uterus. Eventually, she turned head-down, but I knew long before her delivery that it would be an arduous back labor. Despite this, I had timidly and thoughtfully committed myself to an all-natural birth. I had determined that our existing medical care system was a little too trigger-happy with its knives. The epiphany to experience boatloads of undesirable pain came with a lot of firsthand research, coupled with the belief that excruciating temporary pain was better than risking preventable permanent damage. This was, of course, out of the ordinary in my geographical location, even amongst mothers whose pregnancies were highly healthy and, for lack of a better word, easy. Many young mothers I spoke with prior to my own newborn's delivery had one horrific labor story after the next, and their opinions echoed the pervasive research indicating that the medical system was failing healthy pregnant mothers as a method to prevent less likely outliers. So, I made a choice. No IV. No epidural. I found a wonderful midwife who studied on the farm with Ina May Gaskin, and had successfully delivered thousands of babies, and I committed to an all-natural birth.
“What? Who sh*ts like this?" I blurted, and clenched my abdominal muscles as though I were about to push out a Ford pickup–a sturdy American car.
“Just touch her head!" my husband instructed, elated. “Feel it. She's almost out."
I clamped my body back against the handicap rails above the toilet. “I can't."
“Honey, come on, feel her head," he said again.
“I can't," I repeated, unprepared for the realness of a child to congeal in my mind. “I want drugs," I pleaded for the umpteenth time to no avail.
My midwife took hold of the reigns. “Honey, open your eyes and look at me now."
“The baby's head is half way through your birth canal. She has twenty minutes or she's going to suffocate."
Suddenly I was confused. “Who sh*ts like this?" I retorted. “Do you sh*t like this? I don't sh*t like this."
We all snickered a little “no," and transferred to the bed. Several more pushes and something warm and smooth slid out of my body.
“Did I do it; is she out?" I asked.
My midwife scrunched her forehead and peeped under the blanket. “No honey, you just sh*t yourself. Let's get you cleaned up."
I cringed, and continued pushing as hard and as frequently as I knew how. With each push, the baby inched out a little further, but I felt as though it would never happen. “I can't!"
My husband and midwife encouraged, “Yes you can! You already are!"
I zoned back in. It was true. I was. “Help me with my legs," I told them. My husband held my legs behind me, and in several more pushes, a creature emerged from my body. Her name is Sydney.
I cried instantly, as did my husband, who recited, “You did it!" in pure bliss.
A few moments later, my midwife pulled out the placenta, which my husband later ate (kidding, kidding).
It was baller. Confetti fell from the ceiling. My makeup artist zoomed over to prepare us for our family photo shoot, and the Paparazzi eagerly stood in line outside waiting for a coveted chance to meet my newborn. I am being sarcastic, of course, but childbirth is no small feat–I was a hero on top of the world.
Yes, there I was holding my little one, thanking the heavens she was all right, but at that same time, I was also looking down at my deflated belly sack, trembling while my midwife stitched together what remained of my lady parts. My breasts filled with milk, a sensation akin to filling an over-stuffed water balloon with a hose, and before I could blink, people were pinching my nipples and trying to explain to me how Sydney was supposed to latch. The room then filled with residents and strangers who watched me in the nude as if I were their third-grade biology experiment. When I rose to pee, so much blood exploded from my nether bits that the cleanup crew had to throw away the mattress. I imagine this isn't unusual. I imagine many women have their own versions of the same story. Why? Because this is real life.
And business, my friends, is real life too. It's messy. It doesn't SWAAY too far one way or another, regardless of how you are wired or, in my case, MISSWIRED (a little homage to the terrific book I wrote in vignettes while cradling my newborn through her early years of life).
Why? Because in business and in creation, there are several truths that overlap. Here they are below. I hope you find them empowering.
1. Like pregnancy, the development of a new product or service is a long and arduous process with bursts of euphoria in between.
There's a saying, “nine women can't make a baby in one month." It's true, so find productive ways to expand the joy, such as meditating.
2. Pain can be temporary, or it can be long-lasting.
Do your research, factor yourself into the equation, and make a choice. Each decision you make in business follows the same formula. “How much temporary pain am I willing to endure today in order to prevent systematic pain later? Is it worth it?" Sometimes you'll get it right; sometimes you won't. But you're better off educating yourself.
3. Yes, you are powerful. But you are not self-sufficient.
You may be able to develop a significant portion of a product or business on your own, but not without quality help. Determine whom you want to have by your side–ideally someone compassionate and credible–particularly when you're in heat and nearing the finish line. They need to be able to help you pick up the slack when you think you just don't have a single iota of strength left.
4. If you can't get sh*t done one way, do it another way; adjust.
And by the way, pushing out crap is good; it allows your ultimate product the space it needs to find its way into reality.
5. Miracles are born in blood and tears. So are new services and products.
6. Once you deliver, the infrastructure you have to support your creation will, at first, be stitched together and deflated.
This is absolutely normal. You might have an idea of what you need, but until the real thing is available to you, you can't have it all figured out. That's when everyone and their mother will try to tell you what to do. They mean well, but you're the CEO. Listen to them, but trust your instincts. After all, it's your baby, and these are your nipples.
May all you mothers out there prosper in business; you're already doing the hardest of life's work.