About Us

Some of my earliest memories are of listening.

I grew up surrounded by stories—my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, all gathered together, talking about where they’d been, what they’d lived through, what they loved. I lived in the countryside, and while it was beautiful, it could also feel isolating. My connection to the wider world came from them.

Through their stories, the world became expansive and magical, even.

I learned who they were, but I also learned about myself: what mattered; what was possible; who I might become. Stories weren’t just entertainment, they were a bridge to understanding how people make sense of their lives and how meaning gets passed from one person to another. Stories were also a way of belonging. 

That stayed with me.

As I got older, I realized I didn’t just love stories—I remembered them. The small details people didn’t expect anyone to hold onto. The thing they mentioned in passing that revealed what they cared about most. Over time, I noticed how much it mattered to people to feel remembered. When someone realizes they’ve been truly heard, something shifts. Trust softens. Conversations deepen. Walls come down.

I also started noticing the opposite.

Missed connections. People who shared the same values, motivations, or experiences—but never quite found their way to each other. Stories that existed, but lived in isolation. Meaning that got lost because it didn’t have a way to move.

That pattern shows up everywhere. In families. In communities. And very clearly inside organizations.

Teams work hard, gather insight, collect feedback—but it lives in silos. Sales hears one version. Marketing tells another. Customer Success carries a third. The story fragments. The humanity fades. What should create connection ends up feeling transactional.

Silos don’t work. Not in communication. Not in relationships. And not in advocacy.

The world can be a lonely place.
The world can be a hard place.

But it doesn’t have to be.

I believe advocacy is a natural outcome of strong relationships. When people feel seen, supported, and understood, they don’t need to be asked to show up—they want to. I’ve seen again and again how things that once felt impossible become possible when the right connections are made. That’s what brings me joy. And that’s why this work exists.

Connectivity Consulting is about making connection intentional. I help organizations bring people, insight, and stories together so meaning doesn’t get lost—and so customer truth can move freely without losing its humanity.

This work isn’t about extracting stories or manufacturing advocacy. It’s about creating the conditions where trust can grow. Where relationships deepen. Where people feel like they matter.

Because connection changes what’s possible.
And we can do this better.

Warmly,
Nicole
Founder, Connectivity Consulting