Today we’d like to introduce you to Amy Price.
Hi Amy, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
I know my story is heavy, but it’s real. It’s the side of entrepreneurship and creativity that people don’t talk about enough; the human side, the messy middle between success and survival. My journey is about more than jewelry. It’s about loss, healing, and rediscovering purpose through creation. I’ve built my career from the ground up, often while rebuilding myself along the way, and I hope sharing my story reminds others that they can do the same.
I’ve experienced a lot of loss and hardship throughout my life, but it’s taught me resilience, given me purpose, and ultimately led me to the work I do today. How I got started and where I am now is really the culmination of every chapter of my story. Each season, each heartbreak, and each lesson shaped the framework for who I am and why I create what I create.
My story begins long before jewelry ever entered the picture. My dad went blind from diabetes when I was fourteen, and my mom passed away suddenly from a heart attack when I was twenty, just two months shy of my twenty-first birthday. Losing her so young shattered me. My dad’s loss came years later when I was twenty-eight, and although his passing was expected because of his health, it still changed me. Two days after my dad died, I met my husband. It felt like divine timing, like life was giving me someone to love when I needed it most.
Jewelry started as a creative outlet years earlier, in high school, when my mom and I would spend hours together beading and watching HGTV. She was crafty and full of ideas, and those afternoons meant the world to me. After she passed, it took me a long time to even touch my jewelry supplies again. I tried therapy, but when my therapist passed away, it felt like another loss on top of everything else. I turned to alcohol to cope, and for a few years, I lost myself completely.
Eventually, grief caught up with me, and I hit a point where I knew I couldn’t keep living that way. I didn’t know what my purpose was, but I knew I wanted better for myself. When I went back to therapy, one of the most impactful things I was told was to think back to a time in my life when I remembered being happy. My therapist asked, “What were you doing? Who were you with?” The only thing I could think of was making jewelry with my mom.
That became my homework assignment: go home and do just that. At first, it hurt to even open the box, but once I started creating again, something inside me shifted. I felt close to my mom again, and I began to understand how doing something that once brought me joy could also help me heal. That simple moment of creating brought a piece of myself back to life.
It was 2014, I made a few wire-wrapped gemstone rings and posted them on Instagram, just to share what I’d been working on. My friends loved them and asked me to make more, so I did. One friend requested an initial ring, so I shaped delicate cursive letters out of wire, inspired by my own handwriting. It turned out even better than I expected, and when she posted it online, people immediately started asking where she got it.
That was the moment everything changed. I didn’t plan on starting a business, but before I knew it, orders began coming in from people I didn’t even know, and before long, I was making rings every evening after work, filling orders by hand at my kitchen table. What started as a small act of healing turned into something much bigger. It was a business that was built on heart, purpose, and persistence. I charged ten dollars a ring and had over three hundred orders in the first month. I named it Wired by ALP, my original brand, short for my name, Amy Leigh Price.
I didn’t have a business plan, a logo, or any idea what I was doing. I had passion, curiosity, and a drive to create something meaningful. I worked full-time during the day and built my jewelry business at night. Those long evenings didn’t feel like work, though; they felt like peace. The more I created, the more my confidence grew. My craft became both my creative outlet and my foundation. It was the steady ground I needed to rebuild my life on.
My husband passed away from suicide in 2020, and it was another kind of heartbreak I never imagined I would face. His death happened at the same time the world was shutting down for COVID, and while so many people were grieving in their own ways, my world completely collapsed. I was thirty-two years old and widowed, and I could have easily given up. But this time, I made a different choice. I stayed sober. I refused to fall back into the same patterns that once destroyed me. My work became the only thing in my life that didn’t change, the one thing I could control. I poured everything into it… my love, my pain, and my hope, and it became the lifeline that pulled me through.
As I began talking more openly about my grief, I realized how many people were quietly carrying their own pain. It made me feel less alone. My husband’s death and the realization that everyone is fighting something gave me a deeper sense of empathy and purpose. It also gave me the courage to share my own story. After my husband died, I got a tattoo that says, “Risk being seen in all of your glory.” For a long time, I felt labeled as “the girl who lost her parents and husband,” and I carried guilt and shame that made me want to hide. That tattoo became a promise to myself to show up fully, even when life has scarred you.
Over time, my business evolved with me through every chapter of healing and growth. Wired by ALP transformed into The Volve Collective, a name inspired by the word “evolve,” because that’s exactly what my life and my work have done. Every design I create is a reflection of that journey. It’s a journey we all share, of love, loss, resilience, and the beauty of becoming.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It has definitely not been a smooth road. My journey has been filled with challenges, setbacks, and moments that tested me in ways I never could have imagined. But each obstacle taught me something important about who I am and what I’m capable of.
In the early years, balancing a full-time job while running a handmade business came with its learning curves. I was figuring everything out as I went, from pricing and photography to packaging and marketing – everything. But I wasn’t doing it for the money. I was doing it for myself. The money followed naturally, and honestly, I’m still not sure how it all happened the way it did. I had incredible support from my community, but I also put myself out there and created an online presence just by trying. I used my creativity and the design skills I learned in college to brand myself and build something from the ground up. It was fun for me. It didn’t feel like work, and for the first time in a long time, I felt proud of something that was mine.
More than anything, it was proof to myself that I could overcome my past and become someone I was proud of. My business became a symbol of growth, tangible evidence that I could take something painful and turn it into something meaningful. It was the start of rewriting the story I once thought was over.
When my husband passed away, everything changed again. I took two months off from work to handle what needed to be handled and to give myself space to breathe. I didn’t want to be home, so I decided to go back to work sooner than I planned. I had my two employees, who were also close friends, by my side to help me ease back in. They made sure I was okay when I faced my first few weekends back at the market again. My husband used to attend those events with me, and everyone knew him and what had happened. People meant well, offering hugs and kind words, but it was hard managing my emotions while trying to work. In a way, I had to wear a mask, my “work face,” just to get through each day.
The truth is, I cried every day for a year. I had people around me most of the time, but the moment I was alone, the tears would come. I couldn’t control it. It was grief leaving my body in waves. I hid that part from most people because I had leaned on so many for so long that I started to feel like my sadness was a burden to them. I tried to protect others from the weight I was carrying, even when I was the one who needed protecting.
Even with the emotional weight, I wanted to be there. My work became my escape from reality, even if it was also a constant reminder of it. Those two years after he passed ended up being my biggest years in business. I reached numbers I never imagined, my highest year being $208,000 in sales, from a little handmade jewelry business that started as therapy. That level of growth felt surreal. Success looks different for everyone, but for me, success was simply being able to do what I love and call it my full-time job. I was proud that I built something that allowed me to live comfortably doing what I love. While I couldn’t control the circumstances of life happening around me, I could control my job, because I created it.
As the business grew, I expanded into every area I could. I sold at local markets, ran an online store, and took on wholesale orders. I even opened a small retail space inside my jewelry studio. Because of my online presence, boutiques and other small businesses started finding me organically, and before long, my jewelry was being carried in 34 stores across the United States, with many of them placing regular restock orders. It was such a rewarding time and something I never imagined when I first started.
Over time, things shifted. My employees changed, and it became harder to find consistent help. Training new people while keeping up with everything else was difficult, and eventually, I started falling behind. After hitting such a high point in sales, it felt like failure to suddenly lose momentum. I experienced burnout that left me in a kind of freeze mode, both physically and emotionally. Around that time, I was also contemplating a rebrand. I had outgrown my original brand name, Wired by ALP, and no longer made jewelry with wire. My heart and mind were divided between two versions of my business, and that creative tension added to the exhaustion.
Eventually, I decided to step back completely and focus on the rebrand. What was supposed to be a two-month break turned into over a year of much-needed rest. Thankfully, I had saved enough money through years of steady growth that I could afford to take time off. From the start, I had always reinvested back into my business and kept my expenses low, so when I finally allowed myself to rest, I had the financial and emotional space to do it.
When I sat still for the first time in years, my grief caught up with me. It felt like an identity death all over again. Looking back, I realize it was my nervous system forcing me to slow down. After years of living in survival mode, I needed to rest and heal. I didn’t know it would take nearly two years to fully reset my mind and body, but it did. When I returned to work and launched my rebrand, I found that even small moments of work stress could trigger that same shutdown response in my body. It was frustrating, but it taught me to listen more closely to what I needed.
I leaned into self-care more deeply than ever before: journaling, moving my body, resting, and giving myself grace. I had already done so much internal work over the years, in and out of therapy, but this chapter taught me what true balance and recovery really look like. Slowly, I found my rhythm again. This upcoming Spring marks two years since launching The Volve Collective, and while the journey hasn’t been easy, it’s been profoundly meaningful.
My brand evolved the same way I have, with patience, honesty, and heart. It’s proof that growth isn’t always about progress on paper. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to pause, heal, and start again.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
Creativity has always been at the heart of who I am. I’ve always love working with my hands and watching an idea come to life from nothing. Before pursuing jewelry full-time, I worked in both the service industry and office management. Those years taught me so much about people, organization, sales, and the value of good customer service. I also spent time studying Graphic Design in college, which gave me a foundation in understanding color, composition, and branding. Those are skills that I use every single day in my business. Eventually, I realized that college wasn’t the right fit for me at that time. Life was happening around me, and I wasn’t in a mental space to dedicate myself fully to a degree. I decided to take what I had learned and keep growing on my own.
Everything I know today, from business to photography to marketing, I learned through self-teaching, trial and error, and free resources online. I’m endlessly curious, so I’ve always loved learning new things, especially if it helps me grow creatively or professionally. I often find myself consuming inspiring and educational material online just for fun, but it also happens to benefit my work. My personal interests and my career overlap beautifully, and that’s something I never lose sight of. I’m deeply grateful for everything, every day.
As an artist and jewelry designer, I see beauty in transformation. I love taking something broken, vintage, or forgotten and giving it new life. That’s what The Volve Collective represents to me: evolution, renewal, and the courage to keep becoming. Every collection I design tells a story about growth, love, or self-discovery. The brand was built around the belief that we are all constantly evolving, and that there is beauty in every stage of that process.
I design both handmade stainless-steel jewelry and bring life back into old vintage pieces that would otherwise end up in a landfill. Every piece that leaves my studio is meant to be more than just an accessory. I want it to feel like a reflection of the person wearing it. It’s something that holds meaning and makes them feel confident, unique, and seen. I believe jewelry should be personal, timeless, and empowering. Whether it’s a heart pendant, a reworked vintage necklace, or a bold statement ring, each design carries an energy and intention behind it.
Over time, my role has evolved from maker to creative director and storyteller. I still love the hands-on process of creating, but I’ve also grown to love the bigger picture. The visual storytelling, photography, and brand direction that brings The Volve Collective to life is one of my favorite things to work on. I’m constantly inspired by energy, human connection, and the resilience and depth of humans. Every collection has a message behind it, because I want my customers to feel the same spark that started my journey – the sense that even through hardship, we can create something beautiful.
It took years of dedication to reach this point. I worked on my jewelry business for four years alongside my full-time job before I had the courage to take the leap and pursue it fully. My husband’s support gave me the stability I needed to make that transition, but the results came from hard work and consistency. Once I had more time in the day to dedicate to my craft, my growth accelerated almost immediately. I think what set me apart in the beginning was my customer service. I prioritized my customers experience, because their happiness is the key to the future success of my business, and I learned that from working in the service industry. Today, I think what sets me apart in addition to customer service is my authenticity. I don’t try to be anyone other than myself, and I think that human aspect of my business sparks interest and also gives others permission to do the same.
I hope my story encourages others to take a chance on themselves, to dive into the things that bring them joy and see where it leads. Ask yourself, “Is there a way to make money from what I love doing?” If the answer is yes, give it a shot. You never know where a passion-driven hobby can take you. I truly believe anyone can do this. All it takes is effort, patience, and time.
Today, The Volve Collective represents more than jewelry. It’s a space that celebrates resilience, reinvention, and individuality. It’s a reminder that even when life changes us, we can still shine in new ways. We are all constantly evolving, and that evolution is something to be proud of.
If we knew you growing up, how would we have described you?
Growing up, I was always curious, creative, and full of ideas. I loved animals, art, and anything that allowed me to use my imagination. I spent a lot of time outdoors with my siblings and friends, playing sports, riding bikes around my neighborhood, or making crafts with my mom. She was naturally artistic, and she always encouraged me to explore my creative side. We were both obsessed with HGTV, design shows, and even America’s Next Top Model. We bonded over creativity, design, and beautiful things. Looking back, I truly believe my love for creating came from her.
I’ve always been naturally attuned to sound, energy, patterns, and emotions. I’m a feeler in every sense of the word. I pick up on the smallest shifts in mood or rhythm, and I think that sensitivity shapes the way I create. I joke that I might be slightly autistic, but I am definitely ADHD, which means I’m constantly juggling ten thoughts at once. It’s chaotic, but it’s also where my creativity lives. Sometimes it feels like a curse, but most of the time, I think being a little messy is the only way to create something beautiful.
I played piano growing up and still sit down to play when I need to quiet my mind. Music is one of the only things that shuts my brain off. It gives me peace when I feel overstimulated or overwhelmed. I actually used to dislike playing, because back then, it felt like a forced hobby. I’ve learned to appreciate the things I did when life was less chaotic. There was a purpose behind everything my parents tried to give me, and I appreciate those things now more than ever.
I have a huge heart and an equally deep love for people, animals, and life itself. I care about understanding others and making them feel seen. I think that’s why connection is so important to me and is such a big part of my work.
For many years, grief clouded my head and made it hard to see who I was outside of survival. I’m 38 now, and in so many ways, I finally feel clear-headed enough to explore myself again. I’m not exploring the creative side that’s always been there; I’m exploring the person I am underneath it all. I feel like I’m rediscovering who I was before life got heavy. There’s a child-like energy in me that I really love, but it’s balanced with the wisdom that only comes from experience.
Right now, I’m deeply interested in discovering my personal style, speaking my truth in whatever form that takes, and living life for the first time just for me. My journey doesn’t look like anyone else’s that I know, but I know I’m not alone on the off-path. I think there are so many of us out here healing, growing, learning, and still becoming. At my core, I’m still that same curious, creative girl who used to make jewelry beside her mom, lost in imagination and possibility.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.thevolveco.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thevolveco
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thevolveco









