Scott Borba’s journey from beauty mogul to Catholic priest is more than a personal transformation—it’s a mirror held up to the contradictions of modern life. At 53, he’s traded the glitter of a billion-dollar brand for the quiet of a chapel, a shift that feels both radical and inevitable in a world obsessed with status and spectacle. What makes this story so compelling is the irony of it all: a man who built his life on reinvention—once as a model, then as a CEO, and now as a spiritual leader—is now proving that true transformation lies in surrendering control. Personally, I think this is a fascinating case study in how the pursuit of purpose can override the pursuit of profit, even for someone who once seemed destined for the pinnacle of success.
Borba’s path from e.l.f. Cosmetics to the priesthood is a testament to the power of calling. The Diocese of Fresno describes his transition as a ‘profound and clear call from God,’ but the reality is more complex. He wasn’t just following a divine directive—he was responding to a lifetime of questions about meaning. As a former model, actor, and entrepreneur, he lived a life of high-octane ambition, yet the more he chased success, the more he felt unfulfilled. This is a common paradox: the more you build your identity on external validation, the more you’re left searching for something deeper. What many people don’t realize is that Borba’s decision wasn’t just about leaving wealth behind; it was about leaving a version of himself behind. He’s not just giving up a business—he’s giving up the ego that once defined him.
The Church’s embrace of Borba is a bold statement about diversity and relevance. By choosing a priest with a background in marketing, entertainment, and sustainability, the diocese is signaling that spiritual leadership doesn’t have to come from a monastic tradition. This is a subtle but important shift. In a world where secularism is on the rise, the Church is trying to prove that it can be both traditional and modern. Borba’s unconventional path—studying at St. Patrick’s Seminary while also navigating the realities of a fast-paced, consumer-driven society—makes him a bridge between the two worlds. From my perspective, this is a powerful reminder that faith isn’t about perfection; it’s about transformation.
What this story really suggests is that the line between career and calling is blurring. Borba’s journey challenges the idea that success is linear. He built a company, then gave it away, only to find a new purpose in a different kind of work. This isn’t just about charity—it’s about redefining what success means. In a culture that rewards productivity and accumulation, Borba’s choice to prioritize spiritual growth over material gain is a radical act of rebellion. It’s a reminder that the most meaningful lives aren’t always the ones with the loudest careers.
Looking ahead, Borba’s ordination could set a precedent for other professionals to consider a spiritual path. The Church is already grappling with the challenge of being relevant to a generation that values authenticity over tradition. Borba’s story offers a blueprint: a leader who brings real-world experience, empathy, and a willingness to change. If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about a man becoming a priest—it’s about a system adapting to the needs of a changing world. The question now is whether the Church will continue to welcome such transformations, or if it’ll cling to the past in a way that feels out of touch.
In the end, Borba’s journey is a reminder that the best changes don’t always come from the top-down. Sometimes, they emerge from the quiet moments of doubt and the unexpected calls of the soul. His story isn’t just about leaving behind a fortune—it’s about finding a new way to live. And in a world that often measures worth in dollars, that’s a message that’s hard to ignore.
