My Upbringing: A Story of Resilience through Change
For the longest time, I believed that good fortune was never truly yours to keep—that no matter how much you held onto it, some unseen force could rip it away in an instant and change your life. As a child, this was my reality.
I was born in Texas, but my father, a dedicated special education teacher, struggled to find work. Out of necessity, we moved to Utah, searching for opportunity. When I was just a year and a half old, my world was upended. My mother was hospitalized while my father was away in basic training. With no immediate family to turn to, five of us children were taken in by church members—kind strangers who provided shelter, food, and comfort until my father returned.
Another year and a half passed, and I later discovered an entry in my father’s journal that broke my heart—my mother had sold her reading glasses just to buy me a birthday present. Fourteen days later, I would see her for the last time as my mother. A month after that, we lost our home to foreclosure. Homeless and with nowhere else to go, we returned to Texas, taking refuge in my grandfather’s small cabin.
Life didn’t ease up. Years later, as I tried to raise a young family of my own, I found myself in the depths of despair. The weight of financial struggles and personal failures crushed me, pushing me to a dark place. I convinced myself that my life insurance policy would be of greater value to my family than my presence. In my lowest moment, I reached for my father’s journal—his account of a time when he, too, had been utterly broken.
He had been unemployed, divorced, homeless, and responsible for four children. This strong, towering man—who had once seemed invincible to me—had reduced his entire life’s accomplishments to a single sentence: I am an Eagle Scout. That was all he could write. But instead of surrendering to despair, he used that small reminder of who he was to rebuild his life. He found a job. He fought his way back. And in that moment, his story saved me.
Life continued to test us. I watched my father leave for deployments to Korea and the Iraq War. My siblings and I were split—my older siblings lived with my mother, while my younger brother and I stayed with my father. Their hardships far exceeded my own, yet we all endured.
Through it all, my father became my hero. As a young man, he had witnessed my grandparents, Hayse and Sue Willingham, fight for the rights of his sister, Janie, who had Down syndrome. Their battle to secure her education in the Pasadena public school system shaped him into an advocate, a warrior for the forgotten. He went on to become not just a teacher, but a savior to thousands of disabled children, helping them find purpose and employment in Nebo School District. He worked in prisons, guiding young men and women—cast aside by society—toward earning their GEDs and reclaiming their futures.
For over 40 years, he dedicated his life to those who had been overlooked. And to this day, all who know him speak of him as one of the greatest men to ever live.
His resilience became my own. His fight became my fight. His ability to rise from the ashes shaped the way I face life’s hardships. No matter how many times the world turns upside down, I know now that we have the strength to stand again.
Ituy: A Distant Land Changed Me
The most transformative experience of my youth was serving as a missionary in the highlands of central Luzon, among the Isinai, Gaddang, and Ifugao people. There, stripped of comfort and privilege, I learned what it truly meant to give of oneself—to serve not out of obligation, but out of love.
As missionaries, we lived as the locals did. I was given $100 a month to cover all my needs. It was never enough. More often than not, I found myself at the mercy of those I had come to serve—men and women with so little, yet hearts overflowing with generosity. They fed me when I had nothing. They welcomed me into their homes, into their lives, and into their struggles. Their kindness taught me humility in its purest form. It taught me the power of a strong community.
Each morning and night, I bathed with a bucket of cold water—a ritual that became less about discomfort and more about discipline. I walked everywhere, through rain and heat, up mountains and across rivers. At first, exhaustion weighed heavy on me, but somewhere along the way, I stopped counting the miles. I stopped measuring the sacrifice. I gave my heart, might, mind, and strength to the work before me, and in doing so, I uncovered one of life’s greatest truths: when you give everything to something greater than yourself, you will love what you do.
That lesson has never left me. Years later, I wrote Ituy, a book about my time at what felt like the edge of the world. But it was there, among the most humble of people, that I found purpose. It was there that I learned the legend of the Ituri tree. This legend will be essential for us in the time to come.
The Road to Education: Built on Grit and Determination
When I returned from Ituy, I carried more than just memories—I carried a new understanding of perseverance, of sacrifice, of what it meant to push forward even when the road seemed impassable. That mindset shaped my journey through higher education.
I enrolled at Utah State University, where I met Julie—the woman who would become my greatest partner in life. Between classes, I played for the USU rugby team, where every match reinforced the same lesson I had learned on the mission field: resilience is built in the struggle.
Time was not a luxury we could afford. Julie and I both worked full-time jobs while I pursued my degree, determined to build a future without waiting for opportunities to be handed to us. There were late nights, early mornings, and more sacrifices than I can count. But we endured. In just two and a half years, I graduated magna cum laude with a Bachelor of Arts and Sciences—proof that hard work and discipline could overcome any challenge.
Texas had always been home, and I felt the pull to return. That desire led me to Texas Tech University School of Law, where I earned a scholarship that made my dream possible. But I didn’t stop there. I pushed myself further, obtaining a Master’s degree in Personal Finance from Texas Tech University—because I knew that true leadership, in any form, required understanding how to build stability not just for oneself, but for others.
Between casebooks and coursework, I worked as an estate planning law clerk, navigating the delicate intersection of law and legacy. At the same time, I took a leap into entrepreneurship, starting a real estate investment company. Every step of the way, I was building—not just a career, but a foundation of knowledge and experience that would allow me to make a lasting impact.
Looking back, none of it was easy. But the best things in life never are. My education was not just about degrees or accolades—it was about proving, again and again, that obstacles are only as powerful as we allow them to be. And that with enough grit, enough determination, and enough faith, we can carve out a future stronger than the one we inherited.
A Legacy of Leadership: Guiding McKinney Through Uncertain Times
In 2009, I was given what seemed like a dream opportunity—an offer to open a law firm in McKinney, Texas. But just two weeks before I sat for the bar exam, that opportunity was ripped away. The job offer was rescinded, and I suddenly found myself unemployed with a young family to support, staring down an uncertain future.
I had two choices: give in to fear or forge my own path. I chose the latter. I founded The Willingham Law Firm, PC, in the middle of economic uncertainty, with no safety net, no guarantees—just an unshakable belief that hard work and resilience could build something lasting.
That experience—of losing a job and launching a business in turbulent times—gave me a deep understanding of the struggles McKinney families and small businesses face, especially during economic downturns. In those early years, I focused on helping residents navigate bankruptcy, foreclosures, and job loss, sitting with them in their most vulnerable moments, helping them find solutions and regain stability. I didn’t just practice law; I became an advocate for those struggling to hold onto their homes, their businesses, and their futures.
Over the past fifteen years, my work has evolved alongside McKinney’s growth. Today, my firm focuses on estate planning, probate, real estate, and elder law, ensuring that families are not just protected financially, but that their legacies remain secure for generations to come. I pioneered "Posterity Planning", an innovative approach that goes beyond wills and trusts to preserve both assets and family relationships—because financial security is about more than numbers; it's about the people who depend on it.
Having walked alongside McKinney residents through economic highs and lows, I’ve seen firsthand how inflation, job market disruptions, and rising costs can upend families and businesses. I understand the challenges our community faces because I’ve spent my career helping people overcome them. That’s why I’m running for mayor—to ensure that McKinney has the leadership it needs to navigate the difficult times ahead.
WG Title: McKinney’s Own Title Company
But my journey as a business owner didn’t stop at the law firm. In 2011, I took on a new challenge—founding WG Title, a title company serving McKinney’s real estate market. As an attorney, I could have stayed in my office, practicing law in relative isolation. But running WG Title forced me to step beyond that comfort zone and engage directly with the business community. I had to build relationships with realtors, lenders, investors, and entrepreneurs. I had to understand the hurdles local businesses face—not just from a legal standpoint, but from the perspective of an owner navigating payroll, regulations, and economic shifts.
It was WG Title that taught me the true power of business relationships. When our CEO, Michael Adams, was diagnosed with cancer, I didn’t know what to do. But Jamie Ellis, a new employee at the time, stepped up—not because she had to, but because she cared. She took on his responsibilities, helping both him and the business not only survive but thrive. Her dedication was so impactful that in 2022, I transferred 50% ownership of the company to her. WG Title persevered because of her leadership, and through that experience, I learned a fundamental truth: small businesses are not just held together by their owners—they are built and sustained by the people who show up every day, committed to something bigger than themselves.
WG Title changed the way I see McKinney. It put me in the trenches with other business owners, facing the same challenges they do—hiring the right people, adapting to market shifts, and navigating local government policies that can either help or hinder growth. Through that experience, I gained a deeper appreciation for the vital role that small businesses play in our city’s economic engine.
I’ve seen firsthand how McKinney’s businesses create jobs, drive opportunity, and give back to the community. I also understand the frustrations that come with running a business—whether it’s dealing with bureaucracy, inefficient processes, or feeling like city leadership is out of touch with the needs of local entrepreneurs. As mayor, I want to change that.
McKinney is a city of opportunity, but only if we ensure our local businesses have the support they need to thrive. I believe in smart, pro-business policies that cut red tape, encourage responsible growth, and foster innovation. My experience running WG Title—and working directly with business owners across multiple industries—has prepared me to be a mayor who understands what it takes to grow a business, create jobs, and keep McKinney’s economy strong.
McKinney Needs Proven Leadership for Challenging Times
My experience as a business owner and legal expert gives me a unique perspective on the economic and social dynamics shaping our city. McKinney needs leadership that can anticipate the economic challenges ahead and take action before they become crises. I am a firm believer in:
Family-centered policies – Strengthening multi-generational households and ensuring stability for McKinney families.
Economic diversification – Expanding opportunities beyond traditional industries to sustain long-term prosperity.
Support for small businesses – Cutting red tape and creating a business-friendly environment that allows entrepreneurs to thrive.
Workforce development – Preparing McKinney’s next generation for the evolving job market and attracting high-quality jobs.
Community investment – Ensuring that public resources serve the people, not bureaucracy, and that McKinney remains a place where families and businesses can succeed.
We stand at a crossroads. Inflation, technological disruption, and demographic shifts are reshaping our city. Without strong leadership, these challenges could overwhelm families and small businesses. But with the right leadership, we can turn these challenges into opportunities and secure McKinney’s future.
The Future is Bright—But We Must Act Now
McKinney’s best days are ahead—but only if we act boldly, plan wisely, and elect leaders who understand the struggles of the people they serve.
I am Taylor Phillip Willingham, and I have built my career on protecting families, growing businesses, and helping people navigate economic uncertainty. Now, I am ready to bring that same fight to the people of McKinney.
Change is Coming. Let’s build McKinney’s future—together.
Julie Willingham
Change is coming, and McKinney needs the heart of this mother. To those who know her, the answer is clear—McKinney needs her warmth, her strength, her quiet acts of love.
When we arrived in 2009, with little more than hope in our pockets, Julie didn’t wait for help to find her. She carried kindness like a lantern, offering cookies to neighbors, lending hands to our church, turning strangers into friends. Even now, when I return home from work, I find her—helping, giving, serving. By day, she is in our children’s schools, lifting teachers, guiding little hands, brightening young minds.
I stole Julie away from the mountains of Logan, Utah, bringing her to Texas, where she chose to stay—not for herself, but for us. She has raised five children almost single-handedly, without the comfort of family nearby. She watches over not just our own, but others, sensing the struggles of mothers before they even whisper a word. I ask why she takes in another child, why she opens our home so freely— She smiles and says, “It’s good for our children to have friends.” But I know the truth: she is lifting a burden from someone too tired to carry it alone.
She is always in motion, hands busy with work, heart full of purpose. She calls it her ADHD—I call it love. She is a mother, a healer, a protector, a friend to all who cross her path.
Like all of us, she has her battles—fears, pain, quiet struggles she seldom speaks of. Anxiety whispers doubt in her ear, but she does not let it define her. She fights, not with swords, but with resilience, with faith, with a spirit that refuses to break.
When people ask how I built a life from nothing—how I built businesses, raised five children, found my strength—
I tell them the truth. It is because of my wife. She carries me, she carries all of us, making our burdens light.