How Abake Abioye Turned Kitchen Table Gist Into a Movement

In a world overflowing with noise and distraction, Abake Abioye has carved out a unique space where authenticity reigns. What started as simple conversations around a kitchen table has blossomed into a powerful movement that’s giving women a platform to share their real stories—unfiltered, raw, and deeply relatable. Through Kitchen Table Gist, Abake is redefining connection and community, proving that sometimes the most extraordinary change begins with an honest conversation.

You’re the heart and soul behind Kitchen Table Gist—a space for real talk and real stories. What inspired you to start it, and why do you think it’s resonating with so many women?

I started Kitchen Table Gist because I know firsthand what it feels like to carry the weight of your world alone. There was a time when I was in a marriage that chipped away at my self‐worth every single day, and I had no safe space to speak the truth of what was happening behind closed doors. Each morning, while juggling the demands of motherhood and the pressure to keep up with my studies, I would bite back my pain and pretend everything was fine. I felt so isolated, like I was the only one drowning in a sea of responsibilities with no lifeline in sight.

One late night, after putting my children to bed, I finally broke down and realized that nothing was going to change until I spoke up. I picked up my phone and texted my sister, but even she couldn’t relate to the depth of my struggle. It was in that moment that I understood how powerful it could be simply to have a circle of women who could say, “I see you, I’ve been there, and you’re not alone.” I wanted Kitchen Table Gist to be that circle that warm, honest space where we lean in close, spill our hearts, and walk away feeling lighter.

Why does it resonate with so many women? Because we live lives that are rarely as neat as they look on social media. We’ve all been in situations where we’re chasing dreams, running through endless to‐do lists, and dealing with heartbreak or chaos behind closed doors. At Kitchen Table Gist, we share those stories without judgment: the sleepless nights after a fight with a spouse, the panic of balancing a 9–5 with homework assignments and school pickups, the ache of feeling like no one understands us. When one woman says, “This is exactly how I feel,” it breaks the silence and reminds every other woman listening that there is strength in vulnerability.

I often think back to nights when I’d whisper my fears into my pillow because I didn’t have anyone else to talk to. If my story can save just one woman from feeling that same isolation, if hearing me say, “I survived, you will to,o” can help her breathe a little easier, then I know Kitchen Table Gist is doing exactly what it was meant to do. We’re not about perfect solutions; we’re about honest conversation, shared laughter, and knowing that, at the end of the day, we’ve got each other’s backs. That’s why this space feels like home to so many of us because it’s built on the messy, beautiful truth of real lives.

Your journey weaves through psychology, business analysis, motivational coaching, and motherhood. How have these diverse roles shaped the woman you are today?

Stepping back and looking at the threads of my life my studies in psychology, my work as a business analyst, the moments I’ve spent coaching women to believe in themselves, the everyday miracle (and challenge) of raising children, and the simple joy of quiet evenings with my husband I see how each role taught me something vital about who I am.

Psychology was my first window into understanding people’s hearts. When I buried myself in textbooks about human behaviour, I learned to listen not just to words but to the pauses between them, to read emotions hiding behind polite smiles. That training became a lifeline when I was trapped in a marriage that undermined my confidence: I could recognize the patterns of control as they unfolded, even before I could name them aloud. Psychology taught me empathy, how to hold space for someone’s pain without fixing it, and that skill would become essential, both in Kitchen Table Gist and later in my coaching work.

Moving into business analysis felt like stepping onto a different stage. Suddenly, I was deciphering spreadsheets, mapping out processes, and asking “Why?” as a matter of habit. On the surface, it seems worlds apart from psychology, but it taught me discipline, structure, and the power of asking relentless questions: Why is this happening? What if we tried a different approach? Those same questions helped me navigate my life off the clock, figuring out how to juggle courses, childcare, and a deteriorating marriage without collapsing. Business analysis gave me the belief that every problem—personal or professional, I can be broken down into smaller pieces, and when you tackle them one at a time, you can find a path forward.

Motivational coaching brought everything full circle. It’s one thing to understand human behaviour in theory; it’s another to stand face-to-face with a woman who has been told she’s “too much,” “not enough,” or “unworthy “and to help her see, “No. You are more than enough.” My experiences in psychology and business analysis became tools I could share: the active listening techniques, the goal-setting frameworks, the gift of asking powerful questions. But it was through coaching that I honed my voice. I learned that sometimes you don’t need to solve someone else’s problem, you just need to remind her of her strength and capacity. I found out that, for so many women I worked with, knowing there’s one person in their corner makes all the difference.

Then there’s motherhood, which is both the simplest and most complex of all. When I was single, juggling late-night study sessions with 6 a.m. school drop-offs often without a single person to lean on, I discovered reserves of patience and unconditional love I never knew I had. That time tested me in ways that no job ever could. I learned how to be vulnerable without losing myself. I learned that sometimes a messy kitchen and sticky floors are worth every moment if my child feels seen and loved. There were days I thought I couldn’t keep going testing for exams while my toddler thought the coffee table was a jungle gym, but motherhood taught me that resilience is not about never breaking; it’s about learning how to put the pieces back together and keep moving forward.

Spending quality time with my husband has been another cornerstone of who I’ve become. After enduring a difficult marriage, finding a partner I can truly laugh with, cry with, and lean on felt like rediscovering the joy of partnership for the first time. Whether we’re sharing a quiet cup of tea on lazy Saturday mornings, stealing a few minutes to talk after the kids have fallen asleep, or taking a weekend walk just to reconnect, those moments remind me of the balance between independence and togetherness. My husband’s steady support has shown me that love can be both a sanctuary and a source of courage. It’s in those simple exchanges, the way he asks how my day went, the gentle encouragement when I’m overwhelmed, the shared laughter over something sill,y that I remember why I keep pushing forward. His presence reminds me that I don’t have to face life’s challenges alone, and that partnership itself can be a profound teacher in patience, forgiveness, and unconditional acceptance.

So, how did these pieces shape me? Today, I am a woman who understands pain and triumph in equal measure. I am a careful listener (thank you, psychology), a strategic thinker (thank you, business analysis), an encourager who sees possibility where others see roadblocks (thank you, coaching), a mother whose heart is perpetually split between fierce protectiveness and joy in the small moments, and a wife who finds strength in partnership. In every conversation I have, whether on Kitchen Table Gist or in a one-on-one coaching session, I carry all of these experiences with me. I remind women that it’s okay to be complicated: to want business success, to crave emotional intimacy, to keep growing long after they’ve “shouldered” motherhood. My journey has taught me that we aren’t defined by a single title. We are mosaics, each piece of our story, even the painful ones, makes us who we are. And I show up every day knowing that the woman I’ve become is built on every lecture I attended, every project plan I drew up, every “You can do it” I whispered to a tearful client, every bedtime story I read while I should have been studying, and every warm conversation shared at my kitchen table with my husband. All of it mattered. All of it made me strong enough to keep sharing, keep guiding, and keep loving hard and deeply, no matter what the next chapter brings.

You’ve spoken openly about resilience. Can you share a time when life tested you—and what helped you find your strength again?

A few years ago, I hit a breaking point. My marriage was falling apart just as I was finishing my degree, and my kids needed me, one starting school, the other still so young. One evening, after a tense conversation with my husband, I picked up both children from activities and raced home to a pile of schoolbooks and an assignment due in forty‐eight hours. I felt utterly defeated.

Instead of giving in, I remembered the women I’d coached women faced even tougher odds. That thought sparked something in me. I gathered my kids at the table, and we cooked dinner together. In those simple moments of laughter and teamwork, I felt my heart relax. Once they were in bed, I stayed up for two hours and worked on my paper, one sentence at a time, reminding myself that imperfect progress was better than none.

The next morning, I turned in my paper, not flawless, but mine. I also called a friend and admitted how broken I felt. Her reassurance helped me see that resilience isn’t about never breaking; it’s about choosing yourself one small step at a time. That night at the kitchen table, surrounded by dishes and books, I realized I was stronger than I thought, and I could be strong again.

With a background in psychology and tech, you bring a unique blend to everything you do. How do those skills influence the way you connect with people, especially through Kitchen Table Gist and Houzin Care?

My psychology training helps me tune into what people feel, read between the lines, ask the right questions, and create a space where women feel heard and understood. On the tech side, I use digital tools to meet them where they are, whether that’s building a simple, user-friendly platform for Kitchen Table Gist to spark honest conversations or integrating seamless communication and data tracking at Houzin Care so we can respond quickly to each person’s needs. Together, these skills let me blend heartfelt connection with practical solutions, ensuring everyone feels seen and supported.

Launching Houzin Care must be a labor of both strategy and heart. What drove you to start a care agency, and what makes your approach stand out in such a sensitive, human-centered field?

I’m launching Houzin Care because I’ve seen families struggle to find caregivers who balance professional reliability with genuine warmth. By combining my psychology background with tech, we intend to match families and caregivers based on detailed personal profiles. As we build the platform, we’ll focus on understanding each family’s unique rhythm, bedtime routines, preferences, little quirks and plan to keep trust strong through real-time updates and regular check-ins. Our goal is for care to feel like an extension of home, not just a service.

Kitchen Table Gist invites open, unfiltered dialogue. What’s one story or moment from the show that left a lasting impression on you?

I’ll never forget when a guest quietly shared how she left an abusive marriage with nothing but her two children and a dream of something better. As she described the fear that first night in her empty apartment, the room fell silent, then every woman at the table leaned in, offering words of encouragement and solidarity. Hearing her say, “I survived; now I’m finding my voice,” reminded me why unfiltered dialogue matters: it turns isolation into connection and pain into shared strength.

How do you maintain authenticity in a world that often pressures women—especially mothers and leaders—to ‘have it all together’?

I stay real by simply showing up as my authentic self every single time, whether I’m overwhelmed, exhausted, asking for help, or full of energy and life. I don’t shrink to fit anyone’s expectations, and I don’t pretend to be anyone I’m not. When I’m tired from juggling the school run and my kids’ activities, I say so. When I’m celebrating a win or buzzing with ideas, I share that too. I choose authenticity over perfection because masking my struggles or inflating my strengths only distances me from the people I want to connect with. By embracing every piece of myself, flaws, fears, joys, and al,l I model for my kids and my community that it’s okay to be human. When I’m just me, in every situation, I build trust, inspire honesty, and remind others that they don’t have to “have it all together” to be enough.

You’re now part of the Global Woman Club—a platform of powerhouse women. What does being part of this community mean to you, and how do you hope to contribute?

Deciding to attend the Global Woman Club was the push I didn’t know I needed. At my very first meeting, Mirela looked me in the eye and said, “You have one month to come back with something.” In that moment, my bucket list and aspiration notes flooded my mind I realized I’d been procrastinating on the ideas I truly cared about. I went back to the drawing board, combined my years in IT with my passion for providing care and support, and birthed Kitchen Table Gist. Rather than waiting another day, I set out to create a space where I could motivate and help women in a way that felt authentic to my skill set and life experience.

Global Woman has freed me from hesitation. Mirela’s challenge still rings in my ears, “What have you got for us?” and it fuels me to take concrete action on my goals. I’m no longer just dreaming about change; I’m building it.

As part of this community, I hope to bring that same urgency and creativity to Global Woman’s mission. By sharing the journey of launching Kitchen Table Gist, where women from every background can pull up a virtual chair to share unfiltered stories and practical wisdom, I want to show how IT expertise and hands-on care can merge into a platform that uplifts so many. I’m actively seeking collaborations: inviting women from every corner of the globe to join me at the table, share their experiences, and co-create content that resonates worldwide.

In return, I believe my tech-savvy approach to building community and my commitment to genuine, heart-centred connections can benefit Global Woman by demonstrating a replicable model for scaling real-talk circles. Together, we can spark new conversations, forge deeper bonds, and inspire more women to move from idea to action just as I was inspired to do.

If you could sit across the kitchen table from your younger self, cup of tea in hand, what truth would you want her to hear loud and clear?

I’d lean forward, warm cup of tea in hand, and look that younger me in the eyes:
“Sweetheart, you are enough right now, just as you are. Your worth isn’t tied to anyone’s approval, and you don’t have to carry every single burden alone. It’s okay to ask for help, to say when you’re overwhelmed, and to set boundaries around what you will and won’t tolerate. The pain you’re feeling isn’t permanent, and it won’t define you. You will find your voice, and people will hear it.

You don’t need to be perfect or have it all figured out. Some days you’ll be tired, messy, and uncertain, and that’s exactly when you should lean into kindness for yourself. Permit yourself to make mistakes, to rest, and to celebrate the small victories. Trust that the strength you need is inside you, even on your worst days. Above all, remember that vulnerability is not weakness; it’s your greatest gift. So go ahead and speak your truth, keep believing in your resilience, and know that every step you take, no matter how wobbly, is a step toward becoming who you’re meant to be.