Hi, I'm Maya.
I grew up in Seattle, fell in love in Morocco, and somehow ended up spending my life making balloon decorations. Here's the long version.
A kid at the fairground
I was the kid who didn't care about the rides. I'd stand by the entrance of every fair that came through Seattle, watching whoever was twisting balloons for the line of kids waiting. Not for the animals themselves — for the exact second someone went from empty-handed to holding something. That look never got old to me, and honestly, it still hasn't.
Learning the hard way
In my twenties I started helping out a clown who worked local events — mostly hauling equipment and setting up, nothing glamorous. One afternoon between shows, bored, he handed me a balloon and showed me how to twist a dog. I popped probably forty balloons before I got one that looked like anything at all. Nobody warns you how loud that is, by the way. My ears rang for a week.
"I didn't plan any of this. I just kept saying yes to the next balloon."
Morocco, unexpectedly
A decade of birthdays and weddings later, a friend talked me into a trip to Morocco — just two weeks, I told myself. I met someone there in my first week. I extended the trip twice, then stopped pretending it was a trip. That was years ago now. I still live here. Some decisions don't ask for a five-year plan; they just quietly become your life.
Slower work, more sharing
I still do event decor here — arches, garlands, the occasional wedding that needs someone calm in the room while things go slightly wrong backstage. But life is quieter now, and for the first time I actually have room to sit down and write out everything I picked up over the years, instead of just carrying it around in my hands.
That's what BalloonSteps is. Not a business plan — just fifteen years of trial, error, and popped balloons, written down so you don't have to learn it the hard way like I did.
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