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When “I Love You” Starts Feeling Scary

​ The Last Two Years The last two years have probably been some of the hardest years of my life. Not because life completely fell apart, but because I had to learn how to keep living while carrying heartbreak, disappointment, grief, and fear all at the same time. There is something deeply painful about giving people your full trust, your softness, your honesty, and then having to rebuild yourself afterward when things break. Walking away from what hurts you is not for the weak. People talk about leaving like it’s empowering and freeing, but they don’t always talk about the darkness that follows. The lonely nights. The second guessing. The grief that comes in waves. The moments where your nervous system no longer knows what safety feels like around another human being. I think one of the hardest things for me has been learning how to feel safe with people again. Not just romantic relationships, but people in general. When trust gets broken deeply enough, your body remembers. Your ...
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I Was Never Taught How to Be Healthy

​ 2 years ago, after coming back from Mexico, my hair started falling out… not just a little clumps. But the truth is, I had been silently dealing with things in my body long before that. Skin flare-ups, imbalance, discomfort that never fully went away. I went to the doctor, did what I was told, used the creams, followed the steps, trusting that it would work. But it never actually healed anything. It would quiet things down for a season, make it feel manageable, and then it would come right back. No one ever talked to me about my gut, about my nervous system, about my body as a whole living system that needs balance to function. It was always about fixing the symptom, not understanding the root.  As a licensed cosmetologist, I’ve worked closely with products, ingredients, hair, and skin for years, and that’s part of what made this even louder for me. I started to really see what we are surrounded by, what we’re told is safe, normal, necessary. And my body began rejecting it. My sk...
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When You Stop Needing to Be Understood

​ You Only Need One Place to Stand There was a moment I stopped needing to be understood. Not because people suddenly got me.   Not because everything became easy. But because I finally chose to stand in myself. I was out on my paddleboard, just moving, dancing, being in my body.   It wasn’t for anyone. It wasn’t to be seen. It was just joy. And I remember noticing people watching me.   Some were laughing. For a second, I felt it  that old pull. The voice that says,   “Maybe you should stop.”   “Maybe you look weird.”   “Maybe you should care what they think.” And then something in me just… didn’t move. I kept dancing. Not in defiance.   Not to prove anything. But because I realized   why would I shrink something that is real inside of me   for someone who has never even felt it? Why would I judge their reaction,   when they’ve never experienced what I’m experiencing? That was the moment. The moment I stopped needing permission. ...
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Not Everything You Carry Is Yours

​ Not Everything You Carry Is Yours There was a moment in my healing where something shifted again. Not in a loud way.   Not in a breaking-down way like before. But in a deep, undeniable knowing. I was sitting in stillness, focused, open… and something came through that I can only describe as presence. Not something I could explain logically, but something I could feel completely. It felt like being met. And in that moment, I felt my grandmother. Not as a memory.   Not as a story I had been told.   But as an understanding. There was no confusion in it. Only clarity. And what came through was simple, but it changed me: “I’m sorry.   For what was passed down.   For what wasn’t understood.   For what you ended up carrying that was never yours.” And I felt it. Not as blame.   Not as pain. But as truth. It was the first time I really saw it clearly—that so much of what I had been holding… didn’t begin with me. The patterns.   The pain.   The ways ...
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The Moment Everything Became Real

​ There was a moment everything became real. I was sitting on the beach in Mexico during my first week there. The air felt different, the environment was beautiful, but something in me felt off. He was on calls, sending texts, moving in ways that didn’t fully make sense, and I found myself sitting still… listening. To the water.   To the space around me.   To the truth I could feel but hadn’t fully let in yet. The waves kept coming in, steady and rhythmic, and I let myself feel everything with them. Tears came quietly. Not dramatic, not chaotic just honest. It was the kind of moment where you stop trying to hold everything together and just let yourself see. Everyone else had backed out of moving to Mexico. It was just us.   And that realization settled in deeply—I’m really here. There’s no backing out of this. I remember repeating to myself, “I chose love. What happened?”   Over and over again, like I was trying to understand where things shifted. But instead of run...
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The Path That Brought Me Here

​ I’ve spent time learning from shamans and spiritual leaders in Africa, Mexico, and across the United States. Their wisdom didn’t just teach me it shaped how I see, feel, and hold space. Those experiences opened me. They deepened my awareness and brought me into a more honest relationship with myself and with life. I believe women carry something sacred within them. A deep knowing that often gets quieted, overlooked, or pushed aside while trying to hold everything together. I’m here to support you in reconnecting with that part of yourself. Not by fixing you.   Not by telling you who to be.   But by sitting beside you, holding space where you can be real… and come back to yourself in your own way. I have faced death closely in this life, more than once. Those moments changed me. They stripped things down to what is real and brought me back to what truly matters. They softened me.   They grounded me.   They shifted the way I live. Now I live with intention. And I fee...
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​When My Body Brings Me Back

Today is the first day of my bleed. What a life. What an opportunity to feel my body again, to feel oneness. There are times I move through my days a little numb, just going through it, doing what needs to be done, not fully here. And then my cycle comes, and everything shifts. I feel alive again. It feels like a small death, and then a quiet rebirth. Like something in me breaks open just enough to remember. My body pulls me back. Slows me down. Softens me. Reminds me to breathe. And it’s wild, because this happens every month. And still, I forget. I get caught up in the rhythm of doing, pushing, holding it all together. Until my body gently interrupts me and says, come back. Come back to yourself. Come back to this moment. Come back to your breath. My cycle brings up the hardest parts of me. The parts I try not to hear. The thoughts I’ve pushed down. The emotions I’ve tucked away so I can keep showing up, keep being strong, keep being everything I think I need to be. And then here it ...
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