My life began in survival.

Abandonment. Abuse. Rejection. Bullying. Those weren’t chapters—they were the whole story of my early life. I learned to stay small, stay quiet, and carry my pain alone.

Armor became my safety. Isolation, my strategy.

I learned early to hide—to carry my emotions in solitude and armor myself against the world.

As I got older, I built a life that looked like success—but inside, I was still bracing for impact.

For decades, I kept others at arm’s length, believing that isolation was the safest option.

After manifesting what I thought was my dream life, I went through a trust-shattering and very public divorce that forced me to rebuild, yet again.

My healing process wasn’t beautiful. At first, it was messy, disorienting, and heart-wrenching.

Yet in the grief, in the shadows, in the unfiltered emotion—I found a kind of power I didn’t know existed.

I embraced my vulnerability and I let the emotions I had buried for decades rise to the surface. And in that softness, in that grace, I found my liberation.

My mentors—Deepak Chopra, the late Dr. David Simon, and Debbie Ford—taught me that the parts of ourselves we’ve been told are “negative” (our shadow) are actually our greatest strengths, once harnessed with intention and compassion.

Their wisdom, paired with my lived experience, led me to what I now teach: transformation that rewires the patterns keeping you stuck, restores your sense of inner alignment, and brings you back to the truth of who you are.

I don’t coach from theory. I guide from integration. Because I’ve lived the questions my clients are still afraid to ask.

Today, through speaking, coaching, writing, and teaching, I walk alongside high-achieving women who are emotionally intelligent—yet, still silently stuck.

Women who have done the work—and are still fragmented, still over-functioning, still afraid to fully let go of the armor.

I help them heal at the identity level, return to their truth, and move forward with clarity, power, and peace.

You don’t have to keep holding it all together.

You don’t have to do it alone. You were never meant to.