Finding my Why

For most of my 20s, I lived in quiet existential angst—always asking, What’s my purpose? Or, as Simon Sinek put it so well (and marketed even better), What is my WHY?

Since I was a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a designer. I loved fashion. I’d pore over magazines, dream of runway shows, imagine living in Europe surrounded by fabrics and beauty. My dad nurtured that side of me—always asking what I liked, what colors I’d pair. He helped me develop an eye and a sense of taste.

After graduating from USC, I felt called to carry my family’s legacy forward through jewelry. It made perfect sense—design, heritage, storytelling. And from the outside, it looked like it was working. I was selling to royal families across the Middle East.

Everything glittered — but inside, I felt strangely empty.I kept wondering—Is this really it?

I had grown up with the question that defined a generation: How are you going to change the world? And I wanted to. I wanted to do something good. To help people. So I started a nonprofit to teach entrepreneurship to underserved youth. It came from a sincere place, but eventually, I realized I was trying to force my path into someone else’s model. A luxury jewelry business isn’t TOMS. And that’s okay.

Still, the questioning continued. What is BHANSALI really about? Should I even keep doing this?

And then—I had my daughter.

Everything shifted.

She is my why. My family is my purpose. BHANSALI is my passion.

That clarity brought peace. I had been searching for meaning, when it had been there all along. Passion is our gift to the world. When we share what lights us up, it reaches others. That’s what makes it meaningful.

It’s not always about changing the world. Sometimes, it’s about building something with love—and letting it speak for itself.