The story behind
You & Me Time.
My dad sat me down when I was 9 years old and said:
"Sayuri, relationships are like flowers. If you don't water them, eventually they'll die."
A few weeks later, I came home from school and his things were gone.
His clothes. His books. His toothbrush. He wasn't coming back.
The man who taught me our special whistle — so that no matter where I was, at the park, at school, anywhere, I'd always know he'd arrived — just gone.
I was 9 years old. I didn't have language for what I felt.
But I had a question that never left me:
If relationships are like flowers… why couldn't you just water it?
That question is the reason I created You & Me Time.
The beginning
My name is Sayuri Chacon. I'm a wife, a mom of two, and I've been building You & Me Time since I was a sophomore in college.
It started with a class assignment. My entrepreneurship professor gave us the semester to build a business plan — he said it would take about 40 hours, and it didn't even have to be a real business, just an exercise. I raised my hand and told him: if I'm going to spend 40 hours on something, I want it to be something I'd actually want to start. He said okay. And then I went home and realized I had absolutely no idea what that was.
I went back to him after class and asked him how to find an idea. He told me: the people who actually made a dent in the world weren't the ones who invented the latest app or technology. They were the ones who found a true need and found a way to meet it.
That same week, I was at the mall with some friends. I picked up a book by the founder of Build-A-Bear — The Bear Necessities of Business: Building a Company with Heart — and stood there thinking: That's what I want. I want my company to have heart.
I went home, sat on my bed, opened the book — and the flashbacks came.
My sister and me, sliding each other down the stairs in laundry baskets back home in Santo Domingo. My dad lifting his legs while I held on, making the shape of a rainbow — a game we called Arcoiris. I was laughing just thinking about it.
And then almost immediately — sad.
Because I realized I hadn't had a single moment like that in over ten years. Not one.
The divorce. The moves. Always the new girl, always starting over, always in survival mode.
That was when something clicked.
I had spent almost ten years without watering my own relationships — the same way my parents spent eleven years without watering their marriage. They didn't see it coming. And neither had I. The only difference was: I still had time to choose differently.
But those moments don't have to happen by accident.
We can leave them to chance — and end up with a life that feels like it happened to us. Or we can get intentional.
That's what woke me up. Not just the loss of those years where I couldn't think of a single moment that actually mattered — but the realization that I had more control over them than I thought.
The Cold Call
Once I had the idea, I knew I needed one thing before anything else: wise counsel. Not just anyone. Someone who had built something meaningful — and still had a marriage and family worth coming home to.
A name came to me that I had never heard before.
Truett Cathy. The man who started Chick-fil-A.
It was a Sunday. Chick-fil-A closes on Sundays. So I waited till the next day.
Monday morning, I called their corporate offices and asked to speak to him personally. I got transferred to his assistant, Martha. I made her one promise — I wasn't calling to ask for money. She told me to write him a letter, and she'd put it on his desk.
A month went by. Nothing. I followed up. Still nothing. And then one day I called and Martha said:
Truett read your letter. If you're willing to buy your own plane ticket, he wants to meet you.
I cried.
I flew to Atlanta. They picked me up at the airport in a white Ford covered in cow spots — an actual Chick-fil-A cowmobile. I walked into the building and they handed me a name tag: Guest of Truett Cathy and Martha Lawrence.
When he walked in, I gave him a hug. And what moved me most wasn't even what he said — it was that someone at his level would make space for me at all. That moment gave me a kind of confidence I would need for every hard season ahead.
I told him everything. My parents' divorce. My dad's words about the flowers. What I wanted to build.
He looked at me and said:
"You're turning your pain into purpose. Your bitter experiences into better experiences for others. We serve a good God who turns our scars into stars. Trust him and no plans will fail for you — as long as you climb with care and confidence."
Truett became my mentor. And more than his words — it was the life he lived. Proof that it is possible to build something meaningful, have a strong marriage, and be a present parent. That belief became the fuel that carried You & Me Time forward.
My First Raving Fan
A couple of years later, Dan Cathy — Truett's son and the Chairman of Chick-fil-A — came in for a store visit at the restaurant where I was working as the marketing director. He had a tradition: whenever he met a team member, he'd ask for their Chick-fil-A story.
When he got to me, I told him that his father had been my mentor since the very beginning of You & Me Time. He asked what the company was, and I told him: I create personalized experiences for couples — to strengthen, deepen, and breathe new life into their marriages.
He looked at me and said: "You're just the person I need to meet. My anniversary with my wife is coming up in two months. Would you plan our date night?"
I began the planning phase of Dan and Rhonda's 41st wedding anniversary the way I approach every experience — by really getting to know them. Their season of life. What they appreciate about each other. Where their marriage was going next. I booked the top floor of their favorite restaurant in downtown Atlanta, curated a progressive dining experience course by course, printed Polaroids of special moments throughout their life together, handcrafted a scrapbook, and reached out to his sons to record surprise video messages without Dan knowing. Then I flew to Atlanta and set up every single detail myself — so that the moment Dan and Rhonda walked in, they'd just know this moment was for them.
The next morning, he texted me: "I'm a raving fan of You & Me Time."
He was so moved that he sponsored three Chick-fil-A operators to experience You & Me Time — hotel suites in Miami, Fort Lauderdale, and Orlando.
“I have a lot of things that steal away my time and even my affections — and I have to really work at keeping my priorities in order. Sayuri and You & Me Time came to my aid. Sometimes somebody has to take our hand and lead us through the process — to get us back on track to the personal elements of a marriage we need to be more conscious of. I’m going to be a better husband on an ongoing basis.”
The Turning Point
After one of my keynote presentations at a chamber of commerce, a business owner came up to me as he was packing up his things. I could see it on his face — he was genuinely moved. He told me he would love to treat his wife to a You & Me Time experience someday.
There was something in the way he said it.
So I asked him: why not now?
And he walked me through his week. His wife takes their daughter to school in the morning; he takes their son — different schools, thirty minutes apart. By the time they both get into the office, they're in work mode. By the time they get home, it's dinner, bath, story time, and then they're done. Saturdays, they divide and conquer — dance practice and soccer practice at the same time, different directions. Sundays, church and chores.
He wasn't complaining. That's what stayed with me. He had just... accepted it. As if this was simply how life was going to be now — for him and his wife, indefinitely.
You are exactly the person I built this for.
But I also realized something I hadn't seen as clearly before. The problem wasn't that he didn't want to prioritize his marriage.
It wasn't a motivation problem. It was a margin problem.
He and his wife were each running their own lane, solo, and calling it a life together.
That conversation changed the direction of You & Me Time. I realized that if I really wanted to help couples create moments that matter, I couldn't just tell them to go on more date nights. I had to help them build the kind of life that actually has room for them.
That's what led me to develop the Tag Team Effect — a framework for couples to stop operating like two solo acts under the same roof and start running their lives as an actual team. When couples leverage each other's strengths strategically, they don't just get more done. They create margin. And margin is where moments happen.
I want to be honest with you about something.
You & Me Time wasn't built from theory. It wasn't built from the highlight reel — the Instagrammable date nights, the soft lighting, the moments that look good online.
It was built from seasons of life that I couldn't have posted about even if I'd wanted to.
Seasons where I had no energy, no mental space, and nothing left to give. Two pregnancies that knocked me flat — morning sickness, heartburn, fatigue, leg cramps, all of it, all the way through. A move to a brand new city with a nine-month-old and a four-year-old and basically no family around us. No village. Just us. Seasons of loss where I didn't even have space to cry because I had two babies who needed me to show up anyway.
Through all of it, Julian and I had to figure out how to actually be a team. Not in theory. In the middle of it.
There was one season in particular. We had just moved, and Julian was out of work. I watched my husband — this strong, capable man — start to spiral. Doubting himself. Feeling like he was failing. And I had a choice in that moment.
I sat down with him at the kitchen table. We mapped out a plan together. I went to Office Depot and got him folders, resume paper, and everything he needed. I helped him research the top companies in our area. I downloaded books on Audible so he could listen to them on the way to interviews. And I drove him to those interviews — with our baby in the back seat — because that's what you do when your partner needs you to believe in them more than they believe in themselves.
Julian got the job. He broke into the tech world — a company he probably never imagined he'd be working for, with no prior tech experience. But he had a wife who was in his corner.
That is what the Tag Team Effect looks like in real life. Not the romantic dinners. Two people who are committed to each other, showing up in the unglamorous moments, making it work together.
I've seen what happens when you lean in instead of pulling away. When you get curious instead of critical. When you choose to build belief in your partner instead of becoming another voice that chips it away.
Life gets lighter. That's the thing nobody tells you. When you actually operate as a team — when you stop running parallel solo lives under the same roof — the weight of it all starts to lift. Parenthood doesn't have to feel like chaos. Marriage doesn't have to feel like a slow drift. You actually get to enjoy the life you're building together.
This is what I teach because it's what I live. Every single day.
Here's what I've come to understand about all of this.
When your marriage is off — when you and your spouse feel disconnected, when you're both running on fumes — everything else starts to feel hard too. Not because work got harder or the kids are out of control. But because the thing that's supposed to hold everything together is shaky. And you feel it everywhere.
You snap at each other over nothing. A broken dishwasher sends you over the edge. You're just reacting to everything, and you can't catch a break.
That's not a time management problem. That's a foundation problem.
When I think about why this really matters to me, I think about my daughter — she's five — and my son, who's two. What they're seeing right now, every single day, is shaping them. The way Julian and I talk to each other. The way we show up for each other. That's their childhood. That's what they'll carry.
I know what it feels like to grow up in a home where your parents had nothing left for each other. Where everything else got their time and energy, and their relationship got the leftovers. I lived that. And I saw what it does.
And here's the thing — it can sneak up on even the best marriages. You tell yourself it's just a busy season. A few weeks go by. Then a few months. And one day you realize you're living side by side but you're kind of... alone.
We work so hard to give our kids the best — the best school, the best activities, every opportunity we can. But the environment that shapes your kids the most isn't out there somewhere. It's inside your home. It's what they see between you and your spouse every single day.
That's what You & Me Time is really about. Not just a cute date night. It's about building something solid — for you, for your partner, and for your kids who are watching you figure it all out.
This is for you.
This is for you if you love your partner — but somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling like you were on the same team.
If you end the day exhausted and disconnected, and neither of you is really wrong — you're just both running on empty.
If you've turned into roommates who are really good at managing the house but can't remember the last time you had a real conversation.
If you keep saying "we need to work on us" — but by the time the kids are in bed, you've both got nothing left.
You're living your good old days right now. I don't want you to miss them.
The Connection Cards. Carefully-crafted questions designed to move you from small talk to the conversation you've been needing to have. For most couples, this is the moment something shifts.
Here's how we start.
Ready to feel like a team again?
The Tag Team Effect Masterclass — free and live. This is where I teach you the system. How to stop surviving side by side and start actually building something together.
Or work with me privately. 1:1 coaching for couples ready to go all the way in — built around your relationship, your season, your life.
"Relationships are like flowers. If you don't water them, they die."
My dad. He was right. He just didn't know how.