Connect
To Top

Traneycia of Little Elm, Tx on Life, Lessons & Legacy

We recently had the chance to connect with Traneycia and have shared our conversation below.

Good morning Traneycia, it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? Have you ever been glad you didn’t act fast?
For me, 2025 has been a slow and steady progression. I’ve taken an entire year off from baking, and in doing so, it’s given me plenty of time to think about where I want to take this business. We opened up back in April of 2024, and I’ve said it once, it was an impulsive start. From the name, to the choice of cookies, all the way down to the shipping process. All I knew back then was that I was finally ready to embark on my childhood dream. I inevitably got what I wanted, but in hindsight, I could have taken my time. At the end of the day, I have no regrets about the initial experience because I believe every mistake was apart of the journey. I embrace all that has come with molding myself into a businesswoman, even the not-so pleasant, too quick ideas.

This time around, I anticipate opening up in early spring of next year. I’ve been gone so long, some customers may think that this is me “quiet-quitting”. I’m actually in the kitchen as we speak, perfecting future cookies. Great businesses take time and I have been climbing the ladder. I want my customers to recognize my intentionality just by biting into one of my desserts. Every ingredient, every menu item, every aesthetic detail has purpose. Everything holds weight.

So absolutely, I am thrilled to have gone through a slower, more efficient route.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am a twenty-one year old, part time baker from East Texas—and the owner of Cherry, 1979. I started baking from scratch a few years ago, but it’s been a lifelong passion of mine. My business has become my baby. Behind the scenes, I am actively nurturing and growing it into something that will stand the test of time. I want Cherry, 1979 to be an extension of myself, but I also want it to be something that can easily transcend beyond me. To be passed down, generation after generation.

I think what sets my bakery apart from others is my desire for tradition. Cherry, 1979 is all about vintage. We strive to embody your grandmother’s house, that classic, homemade taste, and the childhood memories you built in her kitchen.

The year 1979 is already a unique era on its own. Disco was coming to an end, Rock & roll was progressively becoming raunchier, more apparent. Music in general had never been so experimental. It was the era right before American fast food culture became a staple within society. Bright colors were making a comeback in fashion, and so was voluminous hair and nightlife. I don’t think there’s a real way to recreate the essence of it all, but we can try. Why not start with cookies?

When I say “We’re Visiting the 70’s”, I mean it. I can’t duplicate 1979. However, I can replicate it somehow with taste. My future cookie lineup will include at least eight classic signatures. No more modern items on the signature menu because I am devoted to authenticity. It is my absolute mission to transport my customers to a different, carefree time. I will do everything possible to ensure that that is the end result.

Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What did you believe about yourself as a child that you no longer believe?
As a child, I had visions of basically becoming Chaka Khan. I wanted to be “every woman”, I wanted to be like barbie. My career path has always changed and I haven’t always known where I was being led or exactly where I wanted to go. I’ve wanted to be a singer, a nurse, an artist, a scientist. But most importantly, a creator.

Growing up, I reeked of low self esteem and doubt. I never valued my goals or ambitions. I truly believed that I was just a mere speck within the universe, but I now recognize myself as a star. I am the sun in my own world, the universe personified. I consistently create the life I deserve.

I used to believe I was unlovable, too much, not enough. That couldn’t be more untrue. There is something so satisfying about being an African-American woman, and in my daily life, I honor that. I always ask myself “Why not me?” when I’m feeling particularly anxious about my future plans. It’s a valid question. Why wouldn’t I be the exception when all I’ve ever done is attract the things that I want?

Today, I may not be every woman, but I am all I’ve ever wanted to be. I’m a baker, I’m a writer, a creator. I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams.

If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
If I could say one thing to my younger self, I would let her know that she is the epitome of all that is beautiful. She deserved to hear that, at least once. And it’s not just about appearance, it’s about the kindness of her soul and her heart.

I feel like if I’d known my beauty back then, my power, I could’ve succeeded even earlier. Succeeding is a matter of believing in yourself. It sounds cliché and it’s been said before, but if you can master confidence, you can get anything you want out of this life.

These days, people are calling it delusion. But this generation’s idea of delusion is literally just optimism repackaged. The act of believing that something is going to go your way, no matter the circumstances. Call it whatever you want, but in the end, it’s the process of putting your desires out into the physical and knowing that you are divinely worthy. It’s my favorite philosophy.

All of this to say, the confident, stronger-willed version of my childhood self would have been unstoppable. I want to be her when I grow up.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. Is the public version of you the real you?
To an extent. I think the real me is free-er, more adventurous, maybe even conversational. Everyone gets so caught up on small talk, which is fine, but sometimes I wish I could just go up to everyday-people and ask them what they were like as children, what keeps them up at night. I wish I felt like I could open up that way. This world is too serious and it’s become isolating somehow. The internet has made us all so reliant on speed, it’s not often we get to slow down and enjoy a thoughtful conversation with a stranger. As a human, I crave those organic connections and natural chemistry.

In public, I’m more reclusive, more quiet and closed off. As a writer, I rely on written expression. I’m terrible at expressing myself otherwise. Few people get to know me for my truest form; loud, obnoxious, witty. One day, I hope to be less of a shell of myself and more of a communal person. I would love to be seen as someone who cherishes her community, friendships, and all of life’s promises.

Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
I hope the people I love continue to push this whole “giving” narrative. So many people I’ve known have described me as giving or maternal, and I obviously support that claim. My mom especially is always doting on me. She often reminds me of how I used to fill up glasses for my grandma, and how I’d put them in the refrigerator before she got home from work. That way, she could be refreshed while catching up on her soaps.

Looking back, I remember doing it, but I don’t remember when or why I started. It just became normal, something I did just because. I think that goes to show my real nature. It shows that even as a kid, I was big on details and the little things most people miss. Because no one ever told me to have a drink ready, that was simple thoughtfulness for me.

I want to be remembered for my willingness to serve. I’m big on making people feel welcomed and appreciated. I’m big on empathy. I feel guilty knowing I can’t solve the world’s problems in one day. It kills me knowing that anyone at this given moment could be starving. I want to help. I want to make people’s lives easier. If I can do that by baking or selling novels, I’ll be satisfied.

When I’m gone, I don’t necessarily need to be understood. I’d rather people think of me as an advocate, someone who sought out change and charity work. Someone who cared deeply for children and someone who knew that they are all we have.

Contact Info:

Suggest a Story: VoyageDallas is built on recommendations from the community; it’s how we uncover hidden gems, so if you or someone you know deserves recognition please let us know here.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

More in Local Stories