It’s Never Too Late to Reinvent Yourself: Lisbeth Perdomo on Grit, Community, and the Inner Work
- 24 hours ago
- 5 min read
What do you do when you take a Berklee-trained musician, a mother of two, a global pandemic… and an unshakable vision?
You get Lisbeth Perdomo and you get Que Mami.
When I sat down with Lisbeth for this conversation, I kept thinking about how much I love stories that don’t follow a neat little timeline. The ones that happen in real life with commuting, motherhood, financial limitations, doubt, cold train platforms, messy beginnings, and still… momentum.
Because Lizbeth didn’t build her brand under perfect conditions.
She built it in the middle of life.
Berklee, the commute, and the kind of grit you don’t learn in a textbook
Lisbeth talked about going to Berklee and how it expanded her world not because she moved across the country, but because she stepped into rooms full of people who thought differently, created differently, and came from everywhere.
But the part that stuck with me was the commute.
An hour on the train. Then the T. In the freezing cold. Trying to find time to study in between travel and exhaustion. Not being able to dorm because financial aid can only stretch so far. And still showing up anyway.
That’s a very specific kind of determination the kind that doesn’t look glamorous from the outside, but changes you from the inside.
Building a business before you “know what you’re doing”
Lisbeth ran a music studio for seven years before Que Mami existed. She said something so honest: she didn’t run it “the right way” structurally because… she didn’t know.
No one was telling her: register this, file that, protect yourself, set up systems, get insurance, collect payments properly.
She was doing what so many first-time entrepreneurs do: betting on herself, focusing on the work, marketing, building trust, and figuring it out as she went.
She taught kids out of her home. Sometimes she traveled to students’ houses. She built relationships mostly with moms. She created something “homey” and safe, and looking back, she’s the first to admit: the liability alone makes her want to laugh and cringe at the same time.
But there’s also something powerful in those early seasons.
Because she filled a gap.
In her community, music lessons were a luxury that people had to leave the city for. Lisbeth made it accessible. And she didn’t even realize how groundbreaking that was. While she was doing it, she just knew it felt right.
Motherhood, support systems, and the moment something stops being sustainable
One thing Lisbeth didn’t do was pretend she did it alone.
She named her support system her partner, grandparents, and the way her village helped make it possible. And she also named the moment when the lifestyle stopped fitting.
Not because she didn’t love it.
Because she started to feel misaligned.
She wanted to be present at home. She wanted meals together. She wanted a clean house and a rhythm that didn’t feel like chaos. She didn’t have systems in her business yet, and without systems, you eventually hit a wall.
That’s such a real entrepreneurial lesson: passion can carry you… until it can’t. Then the structure has to step in.
The brunch that sparked Que Mami and why it wasn’t about being flashy
Lisbeth shared the moment that lit the match: a women’s brunch event she hosted around 2019, about a year after having her son.
She was tired in that deep way new moms get tired. She was navigating her mental health. She had just turned 30. She was trying to “come back to herself.”
And her partner said something that shifted her thinking: stop trying to do everything for yourself, do something that helps others.
So she did. She partnered with a woman new to the community, brought women together, and created a space where people could simply be heard:
What are your dreams? What do you want? What’s next?
And the truth is… those spaces weren’t really happening for millennial women in her community. Not in that way. Not hosted by someone who understood them and was living it alongside them.
“I like to say being delusional…”
Lisbeth said she’s always been limitless, that when someone says no, it just makes her want to figure out how to make it a yes.
She talked about journaling as a kid and writing the life she wanted, an understanding partner, kids, her own business, fitness, stability, and then realizing she built what she once wrote down.
She calls it manifestation.
I call it belief + execution + resilience.
But either way… it’s the same heartbeat: I can see it, so I’m going to keep moving toward it.
Starting Que Mami with no investors then pivoting when the world shut down
Lisbeth started Que Mami with her own money. No grants. No loans. No investors.
She registered the business, trademarked the name, secured the domain, built the website, created the logo, and she did it while still learning.
At first, Que Mami was going to focus on motherhood: mental health, breastfeeding, and postpartum support.
But then something important happened: women kept asking her business questions.
Where do I start? How do I market? What do I do first?
So she pivoted based on what her audience actually needed.
And then COVID hit.
And Lisbeth did what creative people do when the ground shifts: she adapted.
She started supporting local businesses, local food, local beauty, Latina brands, and women-owned products, and she did it consistently. She spent her own money at first, then brands began sending products because they trusted her voice.
And that’s where the platform gained traction: she became a bridge between women who were building and women who wanted to support.
She said something that matters: showing up consistently + being authentic gets results.
It’s not magic. It’s presence.
Why she’s stepping away from “big flashy events” (for now)
This part felt especially important.
Lisbeth said she has a different take on events now. Not because she doesn’t love them, but because she doesn’t want to sell false hope.
She wants the follow-up. The mentoring. The actionable steps. The mindset support. The real infrastructure.
She said something I don’t think enough people say out loud:
Before you start building the business… you have to be okay.
Not perfect. Not healed in every way. But connected to yourself enough to sustain what you’re asking for.
Because if your home life is on fire, if you’re depleted, if you’re spiraling mentally, emotionally, spiritually… you can’t build something consistent.
And she’s not saying this to shame anyone.
She’s saying it because she learned it the hard way.
The practices that changed everything: journaling, faith, and “little pockets of happiness”
When I asked Lisbeth what she’s adopted that helped her grow, she talked about journaling but also prayer and getting closer to God in a way that felt authentic, not forced.
She described it like a pillar. Something untouchable. A source of security that shifted her relationship with herself and with her family.
And at the end of the episode, she gave advice that I keep thinking about:
If you’re struggling, tell someone. You’re not alone.
And take one small action that brings you back to yourself, a pocket of happiness.
Because one pocket leads to another.
And another.
And eventually… you’re walking toward a life that feels like yours again.
If you’re in a season of reinvention…
Let this be your reminder:
You don’t have to do it perfectly. You don’t need permission. You don’t have to wait until life calms down.
But you do deserve support, structure, and a path that doesn’t leave you empty.
And if this conversation hit you in the chest a little bit… you’re not alone.
If you enjoyed the post, please check out the episode, please share it with a friend, and subscribe to Just Call Me Viv for more conversations about reinvention, growth, and building a life that actually fits.
With love, Viv
