My Story

At five years old, I declared I wanted to be an actress just like Susan Hayward.

Glamorous. Bold. Captivating.

A redhead. Like me!  

I didn’t know what acting was yet, I just knew I wanted to be a part of it somehow.

As a child, I would comb through the TV Guide every Sunday, circling Susan Hayward movies. If one aired at two in the morning, I set my alarm and got up to watch it. You either showed up for the story or you missed it.

Ferrell
Susan Hayward

I was born in Albuquerque and raised in San Antonio, growing up in a lively, unconventional family filled with color, texture, and stories. I was the youngest of seven, the baby of the family, yet an only child by my parents’ pairing.

As a young girl, I was an ugly duckling, painfully shy, and had a speech impediment. Being noticed made me uncomfortable. But theater changed that. On stage, I wasn’t myself. I was the character. And inside that, I found freedom. I could be brave. I could be funny. I could take risks.

Ferrell Marshall
Ferrell About Enron
The Beauty Queen

After high school, I did not go to college, choosing instead to move to Los Angeles to train at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. When I graduated, I learned quickly that I wasn’t very good at being a starving artist. So, I got a “real job” and what began as a steady paycheck turned into a long and meaningful career in corporate America. Over time, I moved up the ranks and spent nearly two decades at PwC (PricewaterhouseCoopers) with a three-year break-in-service at United Way of Greater Los Angeles.

Alongside that work, I continued to act whenever and wherever I could. I auditioned for film and television, worked on low-budget and student films, did commercial work, and pursued voiceover, staying deeply engaged with the work. Theater, however, was always the most consistent home for my creative life.

I was also blessed to have my greatest champion in my late husband, George Adeeb. A Brooklyn boy with a sharp wit and a generous heart, George believed deeply in me, in my acting, and in my voice. His encouragement made room for my creative life to expand. I miss him, and I remain deeply grateful for the years we shared.

Me and George
Me and George
Me and George

After I left Corporate America, I launched my own business, Spotlight Coaching. It brought together the two parts of my life I had long kept separate. These days, I work with people on keynote speeches, presentations, interviews, and story-driven resumes, helping them tell their story in a way that feels honest and grounded.

All these decades later, my love of story hasn’t changed. I’m still captivated by the way a story can pull you in, make you forget where you are, and let you see the world a little differently. That love never left me. It simply found different ways to live in my life.

Today, I live just outside of Nashville, close to family, part of a new community in a place I never imagined I’d call home in the musical heartbeat of this part of the world. I’m often asked if I sing, to which I reply, “Yes!... badly.” Still, it’s a gift to be surrounded by extraordinary music and the people who make it.  

At every stage of my life, story has been the constant. As a child. As an actor. As a professional. As a partner. It’s how I make sense of the world. It’s what brings me joy. It’s what connects me to other people.

That little girl who declared she wanted to be an actress is still here.

Still enchanted.