We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Lorrena Black. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Lorrena below.

Lorrena, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today We’d love to go back in time and hear the story of how you came up with the name of your brand?

About two years ago, I finally took that little voice inside seriously—you know, the one that says “someday.” I decided to create my LLC even though I had no plans to do it full time. It just felt like the right next step. A year later, I felt a strong pull—honestly, I believe God was telling me the time was now. Not someday. Not maybe. Now.

When it came time to name the business, She Served came to me almost instantly. It felt personal and powerful. I served. I am she. My service is a big part of who I am, and I’m deeply proud of it. But I also knew I wasn’t just naming it for myself. Too often when people hear the word veteran, they picture an older man—maybe from the Vietnam or WWII era. And while that image is valid, it leaves out so many others.

There are countless women veterans whose stories go untold. When I speak, coach, or share my journey, I know I’m not just telling my story—I’m giving voice to our story. She Served is about all of us. The visible and invisible service. The strength, the sacrifice, the healing. It’s more than a name—it’s a reminder that we were there, too.

Lorrena, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

Absolutely! I’m Lorrena Black—Army veteran, speaker, facilitator, coach, and the founder of She Served LLC. I spent 25 years in uniform, starting as a young private and retiring as a Major. The Army shaped so much of who I am, and after I retired, I found myself constantly drawn to helping people grow—especially other veterans, women, and professionals navigating transition, leadership, and self-doubt.

I didn’t set out to become a speaker or a coach—I just kept showing up to help, to lead, to listen. Over time, I realized the stories I carried, and the lessons I’d learned—especially around imposter syndrome, resilience, emotional intelligence, and identity—were helping others find their voice, own their strength, and step into their next chapter with confidence.

She Served LLC is where that work lives now. Through keynotes, workshops, and coaching, I help organizations and individuals unlock their full potential. I work with companies, nonprofits, and veteran-serving organizations to create powerful leadership development experiences—with a real focus on authenticity, emotional intelligence, and thriving through transition. I also speak at conferences and events where I get to inspire people to move from people-pleasing and self-doubt to purpose and power.

What sets me apart? First, I live what I teach. I’ve worn the uniform. I’ve juggled deployments, single motherhood, leadership, grief, and growth. I’ve wrestled with my own demons, including trauma, shame, and feeling like I didn’t belong. I bring that realness to every room I step into.

Second, I don’t just tell stories—I connect them. When I speak, I’m not there to impress you with a perfect bio. I’m there to reach that part of you that’s doubting, dreaming, or maybe holding back—and help you move. My style is real, engaging, heartfelt, and sometimes funny (because life is too hard not to laugh).

I’m most proud of the moments when someone comes up after a talk or workshop and says, “I saw myself in your story.” That’s the heartbeat of She Served. Yes, I served. But this work? This is how I keep serving—by helping others rise.

If you’re a leader, a veteran, or just a human trying to find your footing, my goal is to remind you: you’re not alone, and you don’t have to have it all figured out to take the next step.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

One of the most defining moments of my life happened when I was ten years into my Army career. My oldest daughter was a little over a year old, and I was about six months pregnant with her baby sister. My husband at the time was deployed, and I was trying my best to balance being a mom, a soldier, and a pregnant human just trying to stay upright.

I remember waking up around 5 a.m. one morning, exhausted before the day had even started. I went to wake up my daughter so I could get her to daycare and make it to pregnancy PT on time, and I realized she was burning up—sick, feverish. Daycare wasn’t an option, and suddenly the whole house of cards I was balancing came crashing down.

I called in to explain, thinking surely someone would understand. But when I shared what was going on, my First Sergeant’s reaction wasn’t exactly compassionate. In that moment, I felt small, like I was failing on every front. I wasn’t the perfect soldier, and clearly, I wasn’t being the perfect mom either. I sat there thinking, “Maybe I can’t do both. Maybe it’s time to get out.”

But then, I had a conversation with a mentor who told me, flat out: “You’d be crazy to leave at 10 years.” He reminded me how far I’d come and challenged me to stop chasing perfection and instead, own my power. Not long after that, I found out I’d been selected for promotion to Sergeant First Class. I couldn’t even update my DA photo because, well—pregnant. But the work I’d done still spoke for itself.

That moment shifted everything. I realized I didn’t have to be perfect to be powerful. I wasn’t going to be the perfect mom or the perfect soldier—but I was going to be present, lead with love, and keep building on all the hard work I’d already put in. And my girls? They were going to be okay—because they had a mom who refused to quit.

That season taught me that resilience isn’t about having it all together. It’s about honoring where you are, asking for support, and trusting that who you are is enough—even when life feels impossibly heavy.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

One of the biggest lessons I’ve had to unlearn is that asking for help doesn’t make me weak—it makes me wise. For most of my life, I prided myself on being independent, strong, the one who could carry the weight—literally and figuratively. But that mindset nearly broke me more than once.

I’ll never forget a particular ruck march. I was carrying a 40-pound rucksack when I rolled my ankle on a rock and went crashing to the ground—hard. My pride was bruised before my ankle even had time to swell. I got back up, tightened my boot, and kept going, determined not to show weakness. That alone would’ve been enough… but then I realized I had forgotten to refill my canteens before we stepped off. I had no water, I was injured, and I still refused to ask anyone for a sip.

At one point, my leader suggested I redistribute some weight—move a few items from my ruck to others in the group. But I flat-out refused. I didn’t want to be that soldier—the one who couldn’t carry her own load. So I kept going, limping and dehydrated, thinking that pushing through made me strong.

But that ruck march wasn’t a triumph. It was a wake-up call. Because what I thought was strength—doing it alone, staying silent, never showing need—was actually fear wearing a tough-girl mask.

That same mindset crept into my personal life too. Just last month, while planning my daughter’s high school graduation party (with my husband deployed and about a million things to do), I was once again trying to do it all on my own. My best friend finally said, lovingly but directly, “You always wait until you’re up against the wall before you ask for help.”

And she was right.

That’s the Soloist version of imposter syndrome—the belief that needing help means you’re not enough. But I’m learning to interrupt that voice. To ask sooner. To let others carry a little of the weight. I still don’t have it all figured out—but I’m learning. I’m unlearning. I’m not a finished product—I’m a work in promise.

That rucksack, that rock, that fall? It taught me a lesson I’m still practicing today: Real strength isn’t in doing it all. It’s in knowing when to share the load.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.sheserved.co
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lorrenablack/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/lorrenablack/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@LorrenaBlack-SheServed