The Origin Moment – From Kathmandu to a Closing Table in Austin

The Origin Moment – From Kathmandu to a Closing Table in Austin

When my wife and I left Nepal in 2016, we did not arrive in Austin with a clear plan to work in real estate. We arrived with suitcases, a few contacts, and a quiet determination to build a life we would not regret years later.

Austin welcomed us with something that mattered more than skyline views or live music: opportunity. My first job was at Walmart. Over time, I became a coach, leading diverse teams through long shifts, tight deadlines, and the daily realities of retail. Those six years taught me how to listen, how to manage people from different backgrounds, and how to stay calm when everything felt urgent.

But the higher I climbed in position, the slower the growth felt.My philosophy has always been simple: live and grow. At a certain point, the ladder above me looked narrow, and the future I wanted—for myself, my family, and the generations after us—required ownership, not just promotion.

In 2017, a year after we arrived, we decided to buy our first home in Austin. As new immigrants, the process felt overwhelming. Pre‑approvals, inspections, option periods, and property taxes—none of this existed in our lives back in Nepal. That is where our realtor, Ivy Stanton, made all the difference. She walked us through each step, translated complex documents into plain language, and protected us in moments we did not even know were risky. At the closing table, I understood firsthand why so many people choose a realtor instead of trying to buy on their own: the contracts, negotiations, and timelines are not designed for beginners. They are designed for people who already know the system. That day, Ivy looked at me and said, “You would be a great realtor for the Nepali community. You should do this.” At the time, I did not know any Nepali realtors in Austin. I could not find anyone who understood our language, our fears, and our way of thinking about money and risk.

Ivy kept repeating that belief each time we met: “Start reading for your license. Your community needs you.” The idea stopped feeling like a compliment and started feeling like a responsibility.

Real estate became more than an idea the moment I realized two things at once: my growth had stalled in my corporate role, and my own community lacked someone they could easily call when it came time to buy a home. That gap—between our needs and the representation we had—became the space I decided to step into.