I didn’t know I was nonbinary until my 20s. I knew something felt off for a long time—I just didn’t have the language, support, or permission to really ask the questions. It wasn’t until my 30s that I began to feel truly comfortable in my gender and find peace in the fluid, shifting nature of who I am. That’s why I offer this space—for older adults who are just starting to explore their gender, or who have been quietly questioning for years. You might be in your 40s, 60s, or beyond. You might be coming out later in life, or wondering if you need to come out at all. You might feel completely alone in this process. You’re not. In the years I’ve spent doing this work, I’ve supported people of all ages—including folks twice my age—as they navigated their own gender journeys. Whether you're feeling confused, afraid, relieved, lit up, or all of the above, you’re welcome here. There’s no timeline for self-discovery, no age limit on becoming more yourself.

I’ve had to start over more than once, after abuse, heartbreak, and financial setbacks. At one point, I was a single mom living with my parents, pregnant by someone who walked away, wondering how I would ever rebuild. But I did. I saved, I healed, I reached out to family for support, went back to therapy, and I learned to find myself again. Starting over felt like failure at first, but it was actually freedom. Each reset gave me clarity, resilience, and a new sense of purpose. If you're looking for someone who has had to figure it out from the bottom (50K in debt to 100K saved), I've got you covered.

I often feel like I'm operating on a different frequency—processing things in ways that made perfect sense to me but seemed confusing to the world around me. Whether it was how I approached conversations, structured my thoughts, or reacted to social dynamics, these spaces never jived with my design. At times, that led to frustration, self-doubt, and isolation. I either tried to mask my differences to blend in or leaned so far into them that I struggled to find common ground with others. It wasn’t until I started actively learning about neurodivergence that things truly shifted. My brain wasn’t ‘wrong’—it was just operating on a different set operating system. I know how important it is to uncover your strengths and advocate for your needs. If you’ve ever felt like you were constantly adjusting yourself just to be understood, this is an invitation to honor your unique mind and thrive in spaces that weren’t built for it.

For the last 15 years I was a professional opera singer. I had a successful career performing all over the country with top opera companies. However, after experiencing on of my greatest performing and monetary seasons, I found that at the age of 54, the opportunities had shifted, and I needed to decide how to move forward. After considering a host of options I found myself applying for jobs in and out of the arts, while also deepening my understanding what type of work felt best suited to me. Throughout the process there have been triumphs, struggles, and a host of questions about how to leverage my skills within the current job market. With the support and advice of my partner, friends, and family, I found work that aligns with my values, skills, and offers me an opportunity to grow professionally and personally.

I wasn’t really able to get to the bottom of my healing process until I started to connect my shortcomings to things I had experienced in the past. Whether it was my need to control everything around me or my tendency to dissociate in stressful situations, once I realized the events in my life that caused this conditioning, I was able to change the framework in my brain in order to approach situations in a more productive way. Trauma continuously happens throughout your life, and if left unaddressed can further deteriorate your mental health as you age. The good news, however, is that once you get a grasp on your past traumas, you become much more aware of traumas as they happen. Eventually, this leads to the harmonious practice of mindfulness - basically addressing and processing emotions as they happen so that they don't accumulate and leave you feeling stuck.

There were times I felt surrounded by people yet deeply alone , like my emotions had no place to land . I questioned whether I was too much or not enough , and that silenced echoe louder than words . Through reflection , I began to understand that loneliness isn't a flaw it's a signal . I learned to listen to it , to create space to myself and to build connection from the inside out . Now , I offer that same space to others who feel unseen , helping them reconnect with their voice and worth.

After leaving an abusive marriage, I rebuilt my life piece by piece — while raising my 11-year-old and earning my degree to become a teacher. It wasn’t easy, but it taught me that transformation doesn’t have an age limit.

My husband was chronically ill off and on for a couple of years, during which time he wasn’t really able to work or do much to help support our family of 6 at the time. This put a lot of strain on me because I was trying to juggle homeschooling our kids, working part time, and taking care of our home mostly by myself. I felt so alone during that time even though I had 5 other people around me everyday. I was stressed, exhausted, and overwhelmed. My husband unfortunately became depressed during this time because he wanted to be there for us more, but when he would try it would just end up making his symptoms worse and sending him back to bed for the day. He was seeking answers from doctors, who suggested all kinds of things including allergy shots, diet changes, exercise routines, medications, etc but nothing was really helping. I had to deal with my own somewhat irrational anger at my husband because while I knew he was doing everything he could to get better, I was left with so much responsibility. I even had a hard time accepting that he was really sick at times because the symptoms weren’t always easy to see on the surface, and unfortunately my father had little understanding and would tell him to do things like “just go for a run”. Thankfully, I was able to find some ways to take things off my plate like sending my kids to public school, and my husband slowly found his way back to health through emotional work as well as physical solutions.

It’s easy to tell yourself you don’t really have a problem when you can still go to work, raise your kids, and keep your mask on. That illusion of control kept me stuck for years. Looking “fine” became the excuse to stay sick. Not everyone has to hit a rock bottom, but i was still destroying myself, my health, i just did it politely and quietly. I know how hard it is stop something when you become a master at always getting away with it.

Starting something new always sounds great—until Day 3 hits and suddenly your bed, your snacks, or your scrolling habit wins. I’ve been there. I’ve tried to wake up at 6am like a productive queen, journal like I’m the main character, eat clean, stretch daily, drink enough water to hydrate a cactus—and guess what? I still fell off. Multiple times. (And yes, I still forget to drink water like it’s a full-time job.) What I realized is: I wasn’t lazy or unmotivated. I just needed a witness to my goals. Someone to say, “Hey, didn’t you want to do that thing?” without making me feel like a failure. Someone who could laugh with me and call me in, not out. Now, I’m that person—for myself, and for others. The hype buddy. The accountability partner with good vibes and zero shame. Because sometimes you don’t need a coach—you need someone who gets it when you say, “I just couldn’t today,” but who’ll still nudge you tomorrow. If you’re trying to start (or re-start) a habit and your willpower keeps ghosting you, I’m here. Let’s talk about what you’re building—and build it together, one non-judgy check-in at a time.

I met my husband online 14 years ago. After a wonderful courtship of two years, we got married and have been living in (mostly) marital bliss. In truth, the relationship has been the most amazing, challenging, fun, and honest I’ve ever been. I’ve had to constantly learn (and relearn) how to be in relation with another human who, like me, is always evolving. By bringing my whole, vulnerable self to the relationship, I am always in a position to love fully, listen intensely, and learn to understand the life lessons our partners are there to teach us. Our partners are often mirrors of what we need to learn. Before meeting my husband, I had to navigate the difficulty of dating, understanding my self-worth in the queer sphere, and learning how to deal with rejection. By developing self-care practices and deepening my commitment to understanding what I wanted out of a partner, I was able to treat each dating experience and relationship as a constant lesson on how to be a better me.

Being an adult child of divorce, i fully understand what divorce does not to the family, but to the children involved. I know what it is like to experience parental alienation in the eyes of children, and i know what it feels like to feel torn between households once the divorce is completed.

There were times in my life when I felt completely untethered, unsure of where I was headed, doubting whether I had anything meaningful to offer the world. I went through phases of chasing achievements, external validation, or whatever seemed like the ‘right’ next step, hoping it would give me a sense of purpose. But it never felt quite right. Eventually, I realized purpose isn’t something you stumble upon in a single moment—it’s something that evolves, shifts, and grows with you. It’s about understanding your values, what truly resonates with you, and how you want to engage with the world. And sometimes, the first step is simply allowing yourself the space to ask questions without pressure to have all the answers right away. Through peer support, I’ve helped others explore what purpose means to them—not as an obligation, but as a process of discovery. If you’re feeling stuck, uncertain, or lost in the "what’s next?" of life, I get it. Let’s take the time to navigate it together.

Music has been my constant companion through love, loss, survival, and rebuilding. From the blues that carried my pain to the songs that helped me sing again, I’ve learned how rhythm and melody can help us process what words can’t.

Once upon a time, I was in a relationship heading toward marriage. We signed up for a premarital class that started off great, until it didn’t. One day, he simply stopped coming. No warning. No communication. No explanation. I was left to finish the class alone. It was painful, but also eye-opening. That experience taught me two powerful lessons: first, that a partner’s consistency speaks louder than their promises, and second, that I didn’t have to dishonor myself by taking someone back who had already shown me they weren’t ready to walk with me. When he reappeared and asked to come back, I said no. And that “no” became a defining moment of self-respect. What I gained from that class and from walking away is the insight to help others discern red flags, ask the right questions, and make decisions that honor both their faith and their future. Because marriage prep isn’t just about planning a wedding. It’s about preparing for a covenant.

Ever been passed up for a job, overlooked for a promotion or inclusion in a new project because you’re “too old” or “too young,” but you and others knew you had the experience and talent that made you perfect for the job? Ageism is stereotypical individual and societal bias. It may be blatant or subtle, and even part of the corporate culture. My personal experience is a resounding Yes! Growing up and into my 20s I was discounted because anyone under 30 wasn’t valued. My 12-year search for work after retirement was unfruitful until recently. If asked for an interview, it was soon clear I didn’t fit into the culture regardless of my qualifications. Being discounted made me feel helpless, took a great toll on my self-confidence and made a huge dent in my attitude. Combating ageism is possible by first cultivating self-confidence--looking at your own biases, your accomplishments and having a growth mentality. This might be our starting point. Let’s work as a team. Let's do it!

Past mistakes don't define me today. At one time I believed they did. Failed relationships and career missteps seemed to prove it. But no more. I discovered that regardless of the nature of the problems, they had some common denominators: unrealistic expectations and skewed self-assessments. My internalized self-critic worked overtime. And I was ashamed to ask for help. But with help, I adopted a new motto: While life leaves scars from where you've been, it doesn't dictate where you are going. With help and a little courage, I set more realistic expectations and detoxed that self-critic. With help I learned what motivated me to choose toxic relationships and unfulfilling career paths. We all have blind spots. With help I uncovered mine. Today I'm very selective when seeking friends. Today I am thriving in a career that is my calling. Your mistakes are not a life sentence; with effort and insight, you, too, can move forward.

I’ve been through a lot in my life—substance use, legal troubles, and homelessness—before experiencing a full recovery and spiritual awakening. My journey taught me the value of self-reflection, the importance of healthy relationships, and the power of faith. After years of working in addiction treatment, I’ve learned how crucial it is to understand attachment styles, healthy communication, and self-love. For years, I struggled in toxic relationships, but in my early 30s, I began learning about codependency and attachment styles, which has transformed the way I relate to others. My close relationship with God has been central to my healing, and I believe that the love I receive from Him forms the foundation for building healthy, fulfilling relationships. I truly believe that healing and growth are possible for everyone, no matter their past. I’m here to share my experiences, tools, and encouragement to help others walk their own path to recovery and healthy relationships.

Can't tell you how often I chased a broken idea of self-improvement; trying to eliminate "flaws," and constantly striving for an ideal version of myself that felt out of reach. The more I pushed toward that impossible standard, the more disconnected I felt. But growth isn’t about perfection—it’s about exploration. We evolve not by erasing the parts of us we struggle with, but by understanding them, accepting them, and finding authentic ways to move forward. Philosophy has played a huge role in reshaping how I approach self-development, helping me see life less as a rigid path. It can be hard to navigate the tension between self-acceptance and wanting to grow—breaking free from unrealistic expectations and exploring self-reflection in a way that actually feels fulfilling. If you’ve ever struggled with self-doubt or felt like you’re "not enough," let’s take a step back. It doesn’t have to be about fixing—it can be about understanding and embracing the complexity of who you are.

I didn’t really realize that I had anger issues until I got married and had kids. Then I discovered that when my husband and I had arguments, I couldn’t let things go and would feel so wounded by him wanting to retreat from an argument that I would explode. This looked like being verbally abusive, and even throwing things or hitting him. I would feel so ashamed afterwards and apologize profusely. I desperately wanted to change. I eventually went to see a counselor and talked through different ways to communicate with my husband, and because I valued the relationship so deeply I managed to stop exploding with him. Unfortunately, this meant that a lot of anger was then directed at my kids. After years of struggling to manage my anger, I finally realized the need for a deep healing journey, to uncover the unconscious roots that were underneath the explosive rage. In the process I became very good at identifying my feelings underneath the anger, since anger is a secondary emotion. Knowing what those underlying feelings are has been very helpful for me, along with what my triggers are. I have also discovered some healthy ways to vent anger that don’t hurt other people that I could share with you. Today I still experience anger sometimes, everyone does, but it no longer controls my life and I don’t see it as an awful thing that I have to avoid or hold in until I just can’t anymore. Instead, it can be an indication of where I still need some healing, or a healthy emotion that I feel when someone hurts me that I can release or confidently express without doing damage.

When I was a little girl at about the age of four years old in 1982, I was kidnapped by local outlaws, that included members of the occult, and drug up into a child human labor and sex trafficking ring against my will. I have been an eyewitness to true horror, crime, and war since that time, with government, police, and military officials even becoming involved. Flashing back, I believe that I was a child POW, and have memories of spending time on military bases without my family’s knowledge. I used to be so full of fear that I didn’t know how to communicate with anyone about what was happening to me with local community members, who also had children that were classmates of mine and my siblings. Some of my earliest memories start when I was in preschool and began being separated from my peers after my parents would drop me off for a short time. It was then that I began receiving “alternate learning experiences.” I was brought back and forced to pretend as though I had been there the entire time. This all came out in my therapy after surviving breast cancer. My family didn’t understand what was happening to me because this was such a large organization of human traffickers, many who were heavily involved in clubs, gangs, and the mob. This severe abuse was evening happening inside my schools, with district staff participating in the trafficking. I was able to navigate the challenges this abuse presented through sheer will and determination. I have always had a strong Mennonite faith because of my paternal grandmother and our ancestors on her side of the family. I was also extremely fortunate to have been born into the family that I was, because they had financial security and provided for most of my basic needs. This abuse has had a negative impact on me throughout my lifetime though, and led me to developing eating disorders, complex PTSD with major depression and anxiety, trust issues, job loss, threats of homelessness, struggles with interpersonal violence, a history of substance abuse, and more adversities. I am still here fighting though, and have been sober since 2020. I am open to sharing more about my personal lived experiences with anyone who needs validation of their own from an empathic, compassionate, and listening ear.

I have been abandoned by my parents that is always mold and need to find relationships with the wrong people. I was adopted, but never really close with them until my later years I have spent years in a shadow of a sibling and with her being murdered I had to learn how to find myself and love myself for me. I have been through toxic relationship, relationships, abusive relationship, relationships physically, and emotionally and mentally I dealt with death of many family and friends and a boyfriend I have dealt with anxiety and depression of my own, and I’ve seen it I have dealt with A family member that has committed suicide. I have dealt with having children with someone and being a single mom thinking we were a family and we weren’t. I’ve had to learn how to constantly grow and change in my surroundings and adapt in situations that are fell upon my feet and always trying to find a positive light so I could be the best version of myself for me and my children.

I got married at a young age to someone who was nine years my senior. The person I married was someone who was a privileged individual who couldn't see eye to eye with me on many issues, topics, and ways of being. After the divorce, I realized that a great portion of my life had slipped through my fingers, and I lost myself. Before marriage, I was involved in numerous creative activities where I felt free. When my ex moved out, every emotion imaginable welled up in me. I felt like I could breathe while grieving the absence of items that I had become accustomed to seeing every day. Once I moved past the grieving stage, I found myself engaging in hobbies and activities that lifted my spirit. I also grieved the person I was before marriage. She is still in me, but she is older, wiser, and more resilient.

I know that gut-punch feeling of suddenly losing your job. The immediate panic about how the bills will get paid, the fear that you won't find something new in time, the "what now?" paralysis. I am navigating that exact uncertainty right now. It's more than just losing a paycheck; it's a blow to your confidence and your sense of stability. I created this space so we can talk about that fear and overwhelm, judgment-free, and find a way to handle the emotional side of this setback together.

Growing up mainly involved managing my parent's emotions instead of the other way around. Conversations felt unpredictable—sometimes too much, sometimes too little—and I found myself taking on roles I wasn’t meant to carry. Whether it was absorbing their stress, minimizing my feelings to keep the peace, or feeling unseen in moments when I needed support. It shaped the way I viewed myself and my relationships. I struggled to untangle what was me versus what was a survival response to the dynamics I grew up with. It took time, reflection, and effort to recognize that I didn’t have to carry the emotional weight of others. Learning to separate my identity from my upbringing gave me space to redefine self-worth on my terms and finally set emotional boundaries. If you’ve ever felt like you’ve had to shrink yourself, over-function, or fight to be understood, let’s explore how you can step into your own identity—without guilt or fear, and heal from the impact of emotionally immature parents.

I’ve been through a lot when it comes to parenting—raising four children, two of whom were adopted with special needs. My journey started with a very traditional upbringing, where gender roles were strictly defined. I married young and, over time, found myself taking on more of the responsibility for our children’s care, including advocating for them when they needed extra support. Unfortunately, this led to a growing disconnect between my ex and me, and we eventually separated. But through open communication and a focus on co-parenting, we’ve managed to create a positive environment for our children. Raising adopted kids, especially those with trauma, has been incredibly challenging. My son, Anthony, has severe ADHD, a history of substance exposure, and a head injury, which makes his needs complex. My daughter, Juliette, has autism, which added layers to our parenting experience. I know what it's like to feel overwhelmed and isolated, especially when you're trying to navigate the systems and support your children in ways others may not fully understand. But through it all, I’ve learned resilience. I’ve become a mentor for other parents dealing with similar struggles, whether it's understanding special education laws or finding ways to make sure their children are heard and supported. I’ve realized that advocating for my children, even through the hardest times, has made me stronger—and I want to help others do the same.

I've lived through parenting and caregiving from many angles. I grew up in a blended family where I often helped care for younger kids. I was raised by a single mother who leaned on a circle of other single moms for survival. And for the past seven years, I've been co-parenting a neurodivergent child with high needs who we saw through some very tough years and is in high school. Parenting means trying to get through turbulence with grace and compassion, and I've learned that the right support and community can transform the chaos into something bearable--- and even make it possible for you to more consistently connect with joy! I can help you find steadiness as you move through the ups and downs of parenting and help you focus on the unique joys your relationship with your child (including adult children) brings to your life.

I spent 17 years in a marriage that was far from easy. My (ex) husband struggled with mental health challenges, and although we tried counseling and made efforts to hold it together, infidelity and emotional distance slowly broke us apart. Through all of it, I had to stay steady for my two children. Some days were just about surviving the emotions, mine and theirs. But over time, I began to rediscover myself, figure out what I truly want in a relationship, and create a new version of happiness for my family. Now, I’ve found love again, and more importantly, I’ve found peace within myself. In the last couple of years, I was diagnosed with a chronic illness. I have found that peer support has helped me tremendously and want to be there for others as well. I am currently training in peer support / active mental health recovery. I am a certified Disaster Recovery Certified Counselor and certified in crisis intervention.

I’ve spent years learning how to navigate the chaos of life without letting stress take over. Between work, side projects, travel, and personal growth, I’ve experienced firsthand how overwhelming it can feel when time and priorities feel out of control. Over time, I’ve discovered practical strategies, mindset shifts, and daily habits that help me stay balanced, focused, and productive—even during life’s busiest seasons. Now, I help others do the same. I guide people to manage their time more effectively, reduce stress, and create routines that support both their goals and well-being. My approach is about finding what truly works for you, cutting through the overwhelm, and reclaiming your days. After working with me, people often feel calmer, more in control, and empowered to handle their responsibilities with clarity and confidence, leaving room for both productivity and the things they love most in life.

For the ones carrying the unspoken weight of being “the first” or “the only” on their team. When you’re the one who stands out because of your identity, suddenly everything you do gets magnified. Your cultural expressions get misread as negative, you’re held to tighter deadlines, or more work lands on your plate than on your peers’. And when you try to speak up, leadership dismisses your concerns as “too sensitive.” Do you ever feel like you’re constantly proving yourself while being treated differently anyway? That no matter how much you give, it’s never seen the same way as others on your team? If you’re exhausted from navigating a workplace that feels more toxic than inclusive, let’s talk. I know how it feels to be labeled instead of listened to. Here, you don’t have to shrink, code-switch, or over-explain—you get to be fully seen and heard.

Recovery for me has always been a delicate balancing act. When one CPTSD coping mechanism comes into balance another one seems to get sent out of balance. Traditional 12 step programs, while helpful in some areas, segment maladaptive coping by issue e.g. food, relationships, alcohol. It took me nearly two decades to piece together a recovery framework that blended the wisdom of 12 steps with the more holistic approaches I found through Refuge Recovery, Charlotte Kasl's 16 steps, shamanic teachings, and Jungian-based therapies. These integrative approaches not only help me address the roots of these issues, but also give me a more compassionate language around and understanding of the fundamentally human challenge I'm experiencing. I believe everyone's recovery path is unique. But for me it was essential to find a way beyond conventional approaches.

The pandemic disrupted more than routines - it reshaped identities , relationships and the way many of us relate to our bodies, boundaries and beliefs . For me COVID-19 wasn't just a global event; it was a personal reckoning. Isolation bought clarity, loss revealed what was unsustainable . In my own life I had to re-evaluate what safety meant, how I showed up in relationships an what parts of me were worth preserving - not just performing, especially during a time of great changes.

For a long time I thought that marriage meant what I saw on TV or what I heard everyone talk about. The truth is traditional marriage almost ruined me.I realized that marriage doesn’t have to fit a box it just has to fit you. I’m married to a woman, and while we don’t live together, we live next door. We raise our children, support each other’s dreams, and create a family that’s built on respect, communication, and choice , not tradition or perfection. Our home is proof that love can look different and still be whole. We have regular check-ins, honest conversations, and continue to date each other even after years together. Intimacy for us means connection, not just sex. We make mistakes, we compromise, we grow. I help others find peace and partnership in relationships that are real not performative.

I spent years in and out of jail, living on the streets, and using just about every substance you can imagine. But on October 2nd, over two and a half years ago, I got clean—and I haven’t looked back. With four kids and an incredibly supportive partner of 11 years who stuck with me through the worst, I made a decision to dedicate my life to helping others like me. Because when you’ve lived it, you know how alone it can feel. Now, I’m a Certified Recovery Peer Specialist and Opioid Prevention Specialist, and I run a relapse prevention support group where I connect with people going through the same struggles I faced. I also work with incarcerated individuals through NAMI, offering peer support because I’ve been where they are. Sometimes, I even stop and talk to strangers on the street if I sense they’re hurting—because you never know when a conversation might be the lifeline someone needs.

I live every day with a complex mix: Fibromyalgia, hypermobility, and different types of arthritis. I know what it's like to battle invisible symptoms, face doctor skepticism, and feel isolated. I had to fight to be taken seriously. I created this space because I had to learn how to manage my pain, set firm boundaries, and still live my life. I want to help you find your voice, confidence, and daily strength.

Whether you're new to dating, feeling stuck, or trying to rediscover yourself in the process, I’m here to listen and help you find your way. For most of my life, I didn’t really know what it meant to date in a healthy, intentional way. For a long time, I placed a lot of my self-worth in being chosen or loved back, especially after falling hard for a friend who didn’t feel the same. That experience shook my confidence, and I spent years trying to prove my value through relationships.—things that deeply affected how I viewed myself and interacted with others. I started dating in this day and age and with each one, I learned something new about what I really wanted, how to communicate my boundaries, and how to feel whole no matter the outcome. I realized I didn’t need to mold myself to be who someone else wanted; I could be me, fully, and still be loved. Now I support others who are learning to date from a place of curiosity, confidence, and self-respect.

After the birth of my daughter, I went through postpartum depression and psychosis—something I never expected to experience. It shook every part of my identity as a new mom and a partner. My mental health struggles caused pain in my marriage, and I could see how hard it was for my husband too. I felt ashamed, overwhelmed, and alone. On top of that, I was navigating tough relationships with my parents and trying to create boundaries that didn’t spiral into conflict. Through psychotherapy, psychiatry, and eventually becoming a Certified Peer Support Specialist, I began to heal. I’ve had to distance myself from unsupportive people, stop using alcohol to cope, and challenge the voice in my head that told me I wasn’t enough. I lost a job during this time, too, and had to find a new sense of balance as a working mom. It hasn’t been easy, but reclaiming my sense of self has been worth it. Now I support others through those lonely moments of recovery and transformation, because no one should have to do it alone.

It is hard being the child of an alcoholic father. It's difficult carrying the shame, guilt, resentment, anger, and many more emotions along with learning how to adapt and thrive and cope with having no contact and my father not being in my life. I've learned that I have been better off without him and his toxicity, and I have learned to stand on my own two feet and to be proud of myself for all of my accomplishments. Most importantly, I'm proud of myself for not following in his ways. I've learned to accept myself in my own eyes, instead of seeking validation and acceptance in other ways that weren't healthy.

My distaste for botox and cosmetic procedures began when the term ‘preventitive botox’ started floating around in my early twenties. I assumed that I would want to get it some day, but why before I was even showing signs of aging? As I continued on my journey of healing and self acceptance, I learned how predatory the anti-aging industry really is, and how it is all just a marketing scheme to profit off your insecurities. As I approach thirty the self doubt still creeps into my head sometimes that I might look better if I get a couple treatments done. Then I remember the propaganda that I am feeding into, and remind myself that the look of my face changes nothing about who I am as a person. When people with manufactured faces and filters are at the forefront of our social media, we forget what aging actually looks like. People have aged for centuries without quick fixes and cosmetic work, and it is still possible as long as you learn to accept and care for yourself.

For years, I moved through faith spaces feeling both seen and silenced - adopted by doctrine but disconnected from my own spirit . My spiritual awakening wasn't gentle, it was a rupture. What followed was a reclamation of voice , boundaries and divine connection. Now, I hold space for others navigating spiritual warfare, religious experiences and the quiet ache of disembodiment. This offering is for those ready to re-enter their sacredness on their own terms.

I know that bone-deep exhaustion. That feeling where you know what you need to do, like clean up, but you have zero energy, and the task feels impossibly big. Then the shame and embarrassment pile on, so you're too embarrassed to ask for help. It's a painful cycle. As a fellow "Neurospicy Sister," I live with this executive dysfunction and fatigue. I created this space to help you break that cycle, judgment-free, and find a shame-free starting point.

As a fellow Neurospicy Sister, I know how hard it is to stay on track and get important things done. When you ask neurotypical people for help, they often look at you like you're crazy. I know that the invisible wall of executive dysfunction or chronic fatigue is a symptom, not a failure. We'll work on your goals together, without pressure or judgment. Come as you are, and let's conquer those tasks.

I've spent the majority of my life figuring out how to move beyond the persistent hopelessness I've felt trying to navigate a world in flux. Whether it was figuring out an effective therapeutic protocol for my CPTSD, going through a breakup with my long-term partner, repositioning myself professionally, repairing family dynamics, or working through unhealthy coping mechanisms, I've had to find my way through the dark night of the soul time and again. It hasn't been easy, but I am continually finding ways to make it more meaningful. For me, the existential struggle isn't just personal. It's also social, ecological, and cosmological. Adopting this holistic lens gives me a sense of ease in an otherwise anxious body. I'm actively working on building healthy social relationships, reconnecting with the living world around me, and developing my capacity to be a more mindful being. Curiosity and creativity are my primary guides for navigating experiences, both pleasant and unpleasant.

I didn’t grow up talking about Roth IRAs or credit scores at the dinner table. What I knew about money came from watching the people around me survive—not thrive. I learned how to stretch, hustle, and make do. But budgeting? Investing? Understanding my paycheck? That came later… painfully, and mostly through trial and error. For a long time, I carried shame about what I didn’t know. I thought I was behind. I thought I was bad with money. But the truth is, I was never taught. And that’s not a personal failure—it’s a systemic one. Eventually, I got tired of feeling anxious every time I checked my bank account. I started reading, asking questions, unlearning toxic money beliefs, and building systems that actually worked for me. I’m not a financial advisor—but I am someone who understands what it’s like to figure it out as you go. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the idea of “getting it together,” but deep down you want to be more in control of your money—you’re in the right place. We can start wherever you are.

I grew up knowing what it meant to not have enough. Food insecurity was a constant presence—I learned early how to stretch what we had, make things last, and go without. My mother told me I'd grow up to be a doctor or famous author and make the family rich. For a long time, I believed carrying us out of poverty was my responsibility. As I got older, instability followed me. There were times I didn't know where my next meal would come from or whether I'd keep a roof over my head. I've relied on government programs, local aid, and people who showed up when I needed them. I learned to navigate systems that are confusing and often unkind—how to look for resources, ask for help in ten places until one says yes, and keep going even when pride tells you not to. Those experiences taught me resilience that's less about toughness and more about persistence and creativity. I know what it's like to survive instability, and I can help you find your way through it.

I have struggled with insomnia for about 4 years. I would wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to sleep again often for 3 or 4 hours or sometimes just not at all. This would leave me feeling extremely grumpy the next day, sometimes exhausted to the point of having trouble driving, and affected my performance in my job and my ability to connect with my kids. I have found a variety of different practices that have been helpful for me to keep me from waking up on the middle of the night, or if I do wake up to get back to sleep within a short period of time. They aren’t foolproof, I still have nights occasionally that leave me exhausted, but they are far fewer and I have learned to cope with the tiredness better even on those days that are the worst.

When I was growing up, I had a very challenging relationship with my parents, particularly my mother. Both of my parents were addicted and my mother suffered from severe mental illness. We were removed from her care due to abuse and neglect several times, but were always placed back in her care. Talk to me about your childhood traumas and what we can do to unpack it! 🤍

I’ve been in recovery for over 10 years, and one of the biggest parts of my story is being a parent. I have three kids, and let me be honest—parenting is hard. It’s beautiful and full of love, but it can also be exhausting and overwhelming. One thing I’ve learned along the way is that taking care of myself is just as important as taking care of my kids. When I make my recovery and my well-being a priority, I’m able to show up for them with more patience, presence, and love. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about being real, and doing the best we can one day at a time. I want to share my experience because I know how much it helps to hear from others who are walking a similar path. You’re not alone in the challenges, and you’re not alone in the victories either.

Growing up in Romania, food was more than nourishment—it was comfort, tradition, and a connection to home. When I moved to the United States, I faced the excitement of a new life but also the ache of missing my roots. At first, I tried to fill that void with food, holding onto flavors and meals that reminded me of family and familiarity. Along the way, I was diagnosed with diabetes, which forced me to face not just my health but the deeper emotions tied to eating and self-care. That journey taught me resilience, self-awareness, and compassion for myself. I chose to become a health coach to help others navigate their own challenges, combining my personal experience, cultural sensitivity, and heart-centered guidance to create lasting, meaningful change.

For years, I believed I was “too much” and “too difficult” to befriend. I know the exhaustion of masking; rehearsing laughs, rewriting texts, and how that burden doubles when navigating stereotypes as a Black woman. When the burnout hits, the guilt convinces you that isolation is the only safe option. I’ve been there. I learned that the loving, safe friendships I longed for were waiting on the other side of setting boundaries and unapologetically being myself. No, it's not all in your head. I created this space to help you find your people, trade the performance for true connection, and build friendships that finally feel like home.

I have two adult children, both approaching retirement age, who still blame and resent me as a mother. For years, I felt sad and envious of my friends’ child relations. I thought if I just said it this way or didn't do that that we'd progress. While I understand they could feel betrayed using the perfect mother model, I no longer accept the perfect mother standard. I now understand that past mistakes don't define me today. I was being unrealistic in the present. And once I "got it" things improved, and I felt better. The first big step was to stop listening to abusive complaints and accusations. Today I use a soft voice to say enough now I’m hanging up. Then I do. Once I got clear on my boundaries, their behavior improved (and so did mine!). It's been a long journey with periodic missteps. With help I have more tools to work with. I'm not as angry. I have hope and even some satisfaction. If you are ready to get off that toxic treadmill, join me. Let's find your boundaries.

As a widowed father of four and grandfather to eleven, I’ve experienced the full spectrum of family life—raising children, watching them grow into parents themselves, and finding ways to stay connected through the inevitable changes life throws at you. After a 42-year marriage, losing my spouse was a profound loss. It taught me the importance of rediscovering who I am as an individual and redefining my role. I understand that parenting today is different from how it was when I was raising my kids. With the pressures of one income not being enough and evolving societal norms, families are facing new challenges. I’ve spent years supporting my children through their own parenting issues and offering a compassionate, nonjudgmental space to navigate these shifts. I’m here to offer a listening ear, to explore possible solutions, and to help you redefine your role in both family and life. Sometimes, all it takes is a thoughtful question or perspective to shift how we view things.

My addiction started at the age of 14 with a prescription for opioid pain medication. Over the years, my addiction continued to progress and by age 16, I was addicted to opiates and illicit stimulants. I've had stints of sobriety since then, but continued to relapse and did not truly find recovery until the age of 30, after I lost my partner of 8 years to the disease of addiction. A lot has changed since then and I have found that finding oneself is the key to finding true healing and recovery.

I grew up in a conservative society, married young, and moved to a new country. For years, I didn’t even realize what abuse truly was. I endured physical, emotional, mental, and financial abuse, all while giving my marriage and partner 100% of myself — and more. I lost a home, I was beaten down in many ways, yet I kept pushing forward, believing that love and effort would eventually be enough. It wasn’t until twenty years into this rollercoaster that I sought hypnotherapy, searching for clarity. That single step became the beginning of my journey back to myself — to rediscovering my worth, my strength, and my voice. Five years later, I’m still on this path of growth. I remain in my marriage, but I now stand with strong boundaries, a renewed sense of self, and a business I’m proud to call my own. My story is not one of defeat, but of resilience. I’ve learned that healing is possible, no matter how late it may seem to begin, and that empowerment comes from within.

From October 2020 to September 2021, I was unemployed and navigating a really tough job market. To stay afloat during that time, I tapped into the gig economy and explored side hustles. I started with Shipt deliveries, then leveraged connections from college to land freelance work in PR and copywriting. Once I landed a full-time job in September 2021, I stepped back from side hustles to focus on my new role. But when I was unexpectedly laid off again (and then re-hired a week later), I jumped back in. I began freelancing in social media for a skincare brand—work I kept doing for a full year, even while transitioning into my current job in May 2023. These days, I also post my own skincare content online, which lets me combine a personal passion with creative work. I’ve learned that side hustles can be a powerful way to make progress toward your financial goals (whether it’s saving for a car, building an emergency fund, or just having extra money for travel or fun purchases). They can also be an outlet for creativity and personal interests that your full-time job doesn’t fulfill. While side hustles can be great, balancing everything takes strategy, boundaries, and self-awareness to avoid burnout. I’d love to help others find that balance and build side income in a way that feels sustainable.

When home feels like a battlefield, the brain responds the same way war does, children exposed to family violence develop brain activity patterns strikingly similar to combat veterans. This hour session explores how childhood exposure to family conflict and violence shapes the brain’s threat-detection systems, often mirroring the neural patterns of combat veterans. Using insights from studies we will learn to identify when we are in heightened activity in the amygdala and anterior insula—regions linked to vigilance and anxiety—reflects the brain’s adaptation to repeated danger. While such changes may serve as protective in the short term, they increase vulnerability to long-term anxiety and emotional distress. While this adaptation might offer a short-term benefit by helping children identify danger, it also increases vulnerability to anxiety disorders and other mental health problems later in life.

After college, I moved to Chicago with my best friend to start fresh. It was an exciting new chapter, but also a daunting one. I didn’t have a built-in support system and had to rebuild my community from scratch—new job, new friends, new everything. It wasn’t easy, especially since my friendships from college weren’t as supportive as I had hoped. I learned the hard way that creating a strong social circle takes intention and effort, but it was worth it. Fast forward to becoming a mom in 2024, and once again, I was faced with the challenge of rebuilding my community, but this time, as a parent. I had to find other moms to connect with, navigate the challenges of new parenthood, and still maintain my friendships. Through these transitions, I realized that it’s not about having a large number of relationships, but having quality connections that support you through life’s changes. If you’re feeling lost or overwhelmed in your own transition, whether it’s moving to a new city or becoming a new parent, I’d love to share my journey and help guide you through the process of finding your people and building the support system you deserve.

I’ve faced some heavy mental loads and for years felt like I was trying to connect with people while speaking a different emotional language. It made relationships hard—romantic ones, friendships, even basic conversations at work. I’d either shut down or go all in too fast, and that constant push-pull left me feeling isolated and misunderstood. But over time, and with support, I started to explore my needs and patterns. No two people relate the same way, and there’s no single right way to “do” relationships. Through my work as a Peer Support Specialist, I’ve helped people figure out what healthy connection looks like for them—whether that means setting better boundaries, healing from past hurt, or just figuring out how to express themselves without fear. I believe connection starts with self-understanding, and I love helping people get there. You don’t have to fit a mold to have meaningful relationships. You just need someone who gets it and walks alongside you as you figure it out.

I have spent years helping my husband run his business, and when he follows my advice, he does well. He grows and succeeds. I am a homesteading mom of 3 with my own business while helping my husband run his.

Ever had conversations that should have been simple—expressing feelings, setting boundaries, navigating friendships—but felt like puzzles with missing pieces? Yeah, always been that way with me. Sometimes I felt like too much, sometimes too little, and almost always like I was being misunderstood. I’ve spent years untangling that sense of disconnection—communicating in a way that feels true to me while still bridging the gap with others. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped people recognize their own emotional language, whether it’s through words, actions, or quiet understanding. You don’t have to force yourself into someone else’s mold to be heard. If you’ve ever struggled to express your feelings or felt like you just don’t "fit" emotionally, I get it. Let’s explore how you naturally communicate and find ways to connect with the people who truly understand you.

As a single mother raising both an autistic child and a neurotypical one, I've lived the daily storms of meltdowns, over-stimulation, endless love, and silent triumphs. I know what it is like to feel judged, overwhelmed, and unseen and feeling completely alone. I also know the power of perserverance, understanding, and community. I turned my challenge into a fight of purpose. Helping other parents find peace and calm, confidence, and connection through the chaos. A lot of parenting with autism is feeling isolated, but I serve as a reminder that you are not a lone and we can make it through anything. Together, we can move beyond stereotypes and build a space where every child and every parent can thrive!

Early indications that I wasn’t well was when the pain and anxiety got to be too much that I couldn’t function. I relinquished my well-being to my partner, which was the opposite of self-sufficient me. I have full body small fiber neuropathy. Anxiety comes, not only as a mental illness, but as a physical illness, as nerves in my body die. In short, chronic illness equals chronic pain and severe anxiety. It wasn’t easy to get to where I am today. The self-sufficient part of me knew though, that I am the only one in charge of my health and happiness (Stoicism) I have painful, anxiety ridden days. I have less painful, bountiful days. In my professional life, I have experience in peer support, crisis intervention and patient navigation. As a peer supporter, I am walking along side of you. After we meet, you will have an action plan for something you'd like to work on (if you feel up to it), but most importantly, you will know you have been heard and you are not alone.

For years, I struggled with clothes. I never fit the mold, always feeling like I had to hide my body, my neurodivergent sensory quirks, my real self. Growing up in rural Appalachia didn't help either. The game changed when I started using fashion as a tool for self-discovery and self-compassion, not just “looking good” for someone else. If you’re curious how clothes can help you embrace your neurodivergent identity, practice more kindness with yourself, or just figure out what feels good for you (not the algorithm), let’s talk. I think style is a core part of neurodivergent identity and can be a powerful tool to feel more yourself and at home in your own skin. That can look like maximalism or wearing the same thing every day. Bring your closet wins, fails, weird questions, and hopes for self-acceptance.

I lost myself in screens and have removed almost all screen time from my children and now have them help with farm chores and am teaching them to sew. So i understand how hard it is to go against the grain.

Because I get it. After facing a life-threatening health scare, rebuilding my life, healing relationships, overcoming anxiety, and making powerful changes in my health and habits, I’ve learned what it takes to create lasting transformation from the inside out. Now I help others do the same — with compassion, clarity, and zero judgment.

Most times when people think of inner child work, they think of doing things like journaling or visualizations to address trauma, unresolved childhood experiences, or deeply rooted negative beliefs, but what about inner child play? When I was deep in my mental health recovery and trying to rebuild my life, I realized that my sense of Fun and play had been stomped out with a focus on adulthood productivity, achievement, and even self-improvement. Where was the Fun of life? I felt like how do I make space for things like fun, enjoyment, laughter, and play, especially when I had no extra money, no friends to hang out with, and no leads on what to do. I now have things that I do that I never thought I would do or try that I thoroughly enjoy. Even if I only do them occasionally. And I am human, I get bored sometimes, but I have worked consistently to let my inner child explore, adventure, and play safely without pressure or expectation so I can live my life with more joy and more creativity.

I’m a queer, nonbinary person who’s wrestled with faith, identity, and belonging. I know what it’s like to feel torn between who you are and what you were taught about God. This space is for LGBTQIA+ folks navigating religious trauma, spiritual deconstruction, or simply trying to believe in something again—on their own terms. Whether you’re grieving a lost tradition, reclaiming sacred practices, or asking if you’re still beloved, you don’t have to figure it out alone. We'll sit with questions, hold what hurts, and make room for a faith that honors all of you. No judgment. No pressure. Just space to be sacred and whole.

Through years of mental rewiring, I practice mindful living. This comes with the often loud voice of self-awareness, as well as presence and acceptance. Mindfulness is the difference between mindlessly binge watching tv that harms your sleep to numb against upset, versus enjoying one cookie. And I obviously still struggle! Acceptance also involves loving your true self and knowing your worth. I'd love to share tips and challenges as we go on a mindful journey together.

Before finding my husband, I dated around in NYC for ten years. He was different from the guys I usually went for, but our conversations were seamless. After the first date I knew all the years of figuring it out had been worth it. I understand first hand how difficult dating to find love can be, especially in a city where there are so many options to choose from. Despite it all, I never gave up on finding my person and learned so much about myself along the way. Dating to find love requires an incredible amount of vulnerability and self reflection. In our modern age many people are giving up and resorting to AI companions, but what this does is further the loneliness epidemic and sabotage our emotional capacity. Love is finding someone to challenge you and help you grow, as you reciprocate the same to them. By holding tight to your own beliefs and only welcoming people(or bots) into your life that validate that, we are robbing ourselves of deeper connection and understanding.

I was working on first a Masters, and then a Doctorate in mathematics when my first two daughters were born. Then when I got my first full time job, I gave birth to my son shortly afterwards. I only took a week to recover from labor with each of my daughters so that I didn’t get behind on my grad school classes. I also wasn’t willing to sacrifice my ability to breastfeed my little ones, so I either met up with my husband in between classes to feed my babies, or I learned to pump while at work. I understand the exhaustion that comes with having newborns and still working hard every day. Because of sleepless nights getting up to take care of a crying child, I fell asleep in class a few times, but I learned to lean on other people to help support me through this difficult time. I also learned a lot of tricks for working with a baby in my arms or in a seat nearby. My kids are all older now, my youngest is 5 years old, but I have a thriving career.

I used to think burnout meant being tired. Like maybe I just needed a nap, a weekend off, or a better planner. But burnout isn’t just exhaustion, it’s a kind of soul-weariness. It’s waking up and feeling like your tank is on Empty, even after a full night’s sleep. It’s dreading your to-do list, feeling numb to things you used to care about, and quietly wondering if something is wrong with you because you just can’t anymore. For me, burnout came after years of trying to be the reliable one. The hard worker. The person who didn’t complain, who pushed through. I ignored the signs: the brain fog, the irritability, the constant fatigue, the Sunday dread. I thought rest was something you earned, not something you deserved just for being human. Eventually, my body and my spirit forced me to slow down. And in that stillness, I realized how much I had been running on fear—fear of being replaceable, of not doing enough, of letting people down. Burnout made me rethink everything: how I work, who I do it for, and what I need to feel okay. If you’re feeling depleted, disconnected, or just done—you’re not weak. You’re not failing. You’re probably burnt out. And you deserve space to talk about it.

I’ve had roles that looked great on paper with titles, recognition, and fast growth, but they still left me feeling disconnected, unfulfilled, or like something was missing. I’ve changed careers four times in search of clarity, each shift fueled by that quiet inner nudge that said, “This isn’t it.” Through each pivot, I wasn’t chasing status. I was chasing meaning. I wanted to feel aligned, competent, and like my work mattered. What I’ve learned is that purpose doesn’t show up all at once. Instead, it’s built, uncovered, and revealed through small moments of truth, courage, and awareness. If you’re in a role that feels misaligned, or you’re asking, “What am I doing all this for?”, you’re not alone. I help people reconnect with what matters, redefine success, and find clarity when the spark fades. You don’t have to start over to feel purposeful, but you do have to start listening.

I went through a whirlwind of life transitions, including raising my daughter alone through to adulthood, facing the empty nest, returning to college, and pursuing my Bachelor's and Master's degrees, as well as a graduate certificate. I was navigating extreme change from dyeing my hair fun colors and exploring dating to marrying and separating in a blink of an eye. I know what it feels like to hit the reset button, no matter your age. Suddenly, I found my way back to myself. Let's work together to embrace your next pivot and build resilience when life feels like it's spinning out of control.

Life hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve faced my share of struggles. Growing up as the second oldest of six kids, I learned early how to juggle responsibilities, including helping raise my older sister’s children in their early years. My own journey as a mom has had its challenges, too—infertility, pregnancy loss, and health issues like POTS have all shaped my path. But perhaps the most challenging experience was a serious car accident that left me feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I struggled with suicidal thoughts before seeking therapy, and it was through that therapy that I was able to heal and rebuild my sense of purpose. As a parent, I’ve encountered many obstacles, from advocating for my son’s speech development to learning that a small but significant health issue—an ear bead that had been lodged in his ear for eight years—was affecting his hearing and development. Through patience, perseverance, and a willingness to explore natural and alternative solutions, I’ve learned how to face the obstacles in my life with resilience.

I know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed by life’s challenges and not know where to start. Through my own experiences and years of supporting others, I’ve learned that small, practical steps can make a big difference. For the past 10 years, I’ve focused on others, helping people from all walks of life build resilience and find hope. I believe in creating a judgment-free space where you can feel heard and supported. Together, we’ll explore coping skills that fit your life—tools you can use right away to manage stress, calm anxiety, and handle big emotions without shame. You’re not alone, and I’d be honored to walk alongside you as you navigate your own journey toward balance and peace.

This is personal for me—because I’ve lived it more than once. For a long stretch of my career, I chased external validation: what others thought of me, how quickly I could get promoted, how my salary stacked up. But none of that reflected what truly mattered to me. And more importantly, it wasn’t in my control. It wasn’t until my late 30s that I paused and asked myself: What are my values? What’s my North Star? That shift changed everything. Today, my focus is on enabling organizations and teams to prioritize people development above all else. That means bringing the person’s voice into every conversation—centering their growth, their story, and their potential. Even during my 12 years at a beer company, I struggled to align with the core business goal of selling more beer. But it was the side quests—the inclusion work, the relationships, the moments of mentorship—that revealed what I truly cared about: community and people. That’s the thread I’ve followed ever since.

My expertise comes from more than just training—it was forged by navigating a difficult path. I grew up in a traditional, homophobic Latin American household marked by poverty and domestic violence. As a queer person in that environment, I learned firsthand how to survive trauma, carve out my own identity, and fight for a better future on my own terms. That journey is why I’m so committed to this work. My lived experience informs how I help others through their own complex life transitions. It’s why I became a Behavior Interventionist for the autism community and completed 80 hours of Peer Support training—to turn my understanding into practical, effective support. I meet you with the profound empathy that only comes from having walked a similar road, ready to help you find your own path forward.

I know what it’s like to second-guess everything and feel like an imposter in rooms where everyone else seems more confident, more capable, more 'put together.' I’ve battled those thoughts in friendships, work, creative projects, and more. No matter how much I accomplished, that little voice telling me I wasn’t enough kept creeping in. Over time, I’ve learned that imposter syndrome isn’t a sign that you aren’t capable—it’s often a reflection of deep self-awareness, high standards, and past experiences that made you doubt your worth. Working through it isn’t about silencing those thoughts completely; it’s about recognizing them, questioning them, and learning how to move forward anyway. Through peer support, I’ve helped others navigate these feelings—validating their fears while uncovering strategies to build confidence in who they are. You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone. You just have to see it for yourself.

As a widowed father of four and grandfather to eleven, I’ve experienced the full spectrum of family life—raising children, watching them grow into parents themselves, and finding ways to stay connected through the inevitable changes life throws at you. After a 42-year marriage, losing my spouse was a profound loss. It taught me the importance of rediscovering who I am as an individual and redefining my role. I understand that parenting today is different from how it was when I was raising my kids. With the pressures of one income not being enough and evolving societal norms, families are facing new challenges. I’ve spent years supporting my children through their own parenting issues and offering a compassionate, nonjudgmental space to navigate these shifts. I’m here to offer a listening ear, to explore possible solutions, and to help you redefine your role in both family and life. Sometimes, all it takes is a thoughtful question or perspective to shift how we view things.

I use to jump to so many different jobs, things never felt right or I couldn't seem to get along with anyone there. I would end up losing jobs too because where I couldn't stop using. When I finally got clean I found this job that I've finally feel like I belong there. I use work as my distraction I would pick up whatever hours they let me on top whatever I could and push myself till I couldn't. They really had to push self care on me. But I work from home and I love it, it was hard getting started but I've learned whys to adjust to where I feel more comfortable now.

For much of my life, I faced challenges that tested my emotional resilience and sense of self. Through my own healing journey, I learned the value of slowing down, reflecting, and developing healthy coping tools. Over time, I became the friend and support system others could turn to during their hardest moments. My experiences have taught me the importance of listening with compassion, respecting each person’s unique story, and creating a safe space where people feel truly seen. Now, I want to share that same steady presence to help others navigate change, rebuild confidence, and discover their own inner strength.

During the covid-19 lockdown, I was furloughed and living alone, with a hefty stipend from the government. I did as any young twenty-something would do and spent my time feeding into targeted marketing. I bought new makeup, skincare, clothes, home decor - anything to fill the void of experiencing the real world. Corporations managed to profit more than ever, yet convinced us that it was our duty to ‘recover the economy’ once things opened up again. Which, yes - recover the economy by supporting local businesses, using public transportation, and participating in arts and culture. Not continuing to buy useless plastic from billion dollar corporations. Consumerism makes you think that you need to constantly have more. It has resulted in mental health and environmental problems just to scratch the surface. It has become increasingly hard to drown out the noise, but consuming less is possible and even more fulfilling than buying the hot new product in your feed.

In 2021 At 25 weeks pregnant I thought that I may have been leaking some fluid. I went to the emergency room they checked me and said everything was fine and to take it easy, as I was leaving the hospital my water broke and my entire life changed. My son was born prematurely and upon delivering my placenta they did not notice my placenta had grown through my uterus. They pulled it out which ripped my uterus open and caused me to hemoradge. I underwent several major surgeries and multiple blood transfusions and upon awakening was informed my son had passed away! I quickly became depressed and thanks to counseling and a good support network was able to reclaim my life one day at a time

I’ve had a varied career as a performing artist, an arts educator, arts administrator, and now as a writer and audio fiction producer. I’ve also worked as a freelancer for a Visual Merchandising Company and as an Administrator for a CO-OP Art Gallery. Over the past 20 years, I’ve followed my instinct to work as a creative. At this point in my life, I see that creativity is a natural part of our human existence. But I wasn’t always so confident in being creative. In fact, for many years, I hid my creative abilities because I wanted to fit in, saw spending time exploring creativity as frivolous, and was frankly afraid of what others would think if I declared myself “creative.” That all changed once I discovered several books and people who not only helped redefine what being a creative was but offered proven techniques to unleash the inner creative that was ready to come out and play. We all have the ability to create!

I didn't expect to spend so much time with myself in my 30s. Without a childhood bestie and/or long-term partner, the pandemic and associated remote work heightened the challenges of transient adult friendships and seeking a relationship offline. Bandage advice like joining Meetups may not work for the sensitive introvert. I'd love to help you navigate feelings of loneliness and share strategies for living contently and hopefully.

Resilience, the ability to adapt and bounce back from adversity, is an essential skill in the modern world. Some people appear naturally resilient. If that's not you, the good news is you can cultivate resilience through conscious effort and intentional practices. Building resilience enables you to navigate setbacks, grow from challenges, and maintain a sense of purpose in the face of uncertainty. Growing resilience requires self-awareness, self-regulation, optimism, self-compassion and a growth mind-set to name a few. I have gone through the twists and turns that life presents: family disintegration, child-estrangement, physical challenges , job and career loss. Though it was rocky, I survived and ultimately thrived. Certain practices strengthen your ability to cope with stress and to recover from setbacks. They foster growth and adaptation. Let’s navigate your current setback(s) together. Let me be your co-pilot in discovering skills you don't yet know you have.

Life put me through everything. At one time I had completely lost any sense of identity. The last straw was a decade of gaslighting through narcissistic abuse and Domestic Violence. Once I was safe and free, I was able to finally get into counseling and slowly rebuild myself as a person. Through learning what healthy boundaries and self-care looks and feels like, I am ready to guide others to the confidence it takes to Build Sanity.

For a period of my life, I experienced homelessness, and it reshaped the way I view resilience, self-worth, and stability. I know the exhaustion of not having a safe place to rest and the emotional weight of trying to survive while still holding onto hope. Over time, I learned to build strength in small steps—finding safe spaces, accessing resources, and creating a vision for something better. Now, I share that experience to help others who may feel overlooked or defeated. I understand how important it is to feel heard without judgment, and I know firsthand that progress doesn’t happen overnight—it comes from patience, persistence, and having someone who believes in you along the way. My goal is to be that steady support, reminding others that homelessness does not define their worth, and that it is possible to rebuild a life with dignity and peace.

There was a time I would wake up everyday feeling like I was just surviving though the motions. Trapped between anxiety, depression, and constant noise in my mind. Triggers would pull me under, and I'd wonder if I'd ever feel "normal" again. Slowly through self-awareness. small routines, and deep inner work, I started rebuilding piece by piece. I learned healing isn't about pretending everything is okay, but facing the storm and choosing to move forward. Now I help other do the same. If you're tired of feeling stuck, misunderstood, or like emotions control you, I want you to know healing is possible. Together, we can find your calm, rebuild your strength, and remind you that you're not broken, you are becoming the best version of you!

Losing a job is profoundly disorienting. My job was more than a source of income and daily routine; it was my life, it defined me, was how I introduced myself. It was my social network, my family. I felt lost, confused and somehow like a really bad person. I discovered I had been in burnout mode and didn't know it. It felt catastrophic. I was in a fog....and the good news is you can wake up from that fog and take action. Like you are doing now: seeking help! There are strategies for coping with and overcoming these challenges. Reestablish routine, identify and organize your priorities. Taking time for self-assessment and self care gives you strength to manage yourself, making you a more attractive interviewee or entrepreneur. There's work to do to recreate yourself. That's what happened to me. I entered a career I'd never dreamed of, in an environment that draws on my intuition. Self-respect and confidence came quickly. This can happen to you. Let's explore it together

Are you carrying more than you can name—grief, shame, exhaustion, fear—and longing for a space that doesn’t rush to fix you? In this session, we’ll slow down together. I’ll guide you through gentle mindfulness and loving-kindness practices from Buddhist and Christian traditions, offering a spiritually inclusive space to reconnect with your breath, body, and inner dignity. Whether your language is sacred silence, whispered prayer, scripture, or sutra, we’ll find what fits. This is especially for those who feel spiritually displaced, burnt out, or curious about healing with compassion at the center. No meditation experience needed. No pressure to believe anything. Just bring a flicker of openness. I’ll meet you there.

I’ve changed careers multiple times across very different industries. Each shift started with the same feeling: stuck, uncertain, and unsure what the next step should be. I have left jobs without a clear plan, faced the silence after being forced to resign, and sat with the fear that I might never find something that felt right. The path was never linear. It involved a lot of false starts, doubt, and days when clarity felt completely out of reach. But through trial, reflection, and learning to listen to what I actually needed, I began to build a different way forward. I used tools like mindset work, personal awareness, and small experiments to create movement. Reinvention didn’t come from figuring everything out. It came from being willing to start where I was and take the next step anyway. Now, I support others who are facing the same stuckness and helping them find traction in the unknown.

I am no stranger to stress! My background in health psychology and experience with the therapeutic process can help you achieve your goals of managing and coping with stress, in addition to regulating emotions. The mission isn't to rid our lives of stress - which is impossible - but to develop a healthy relationship with life's challenges and ourselves, and feel comfortable facing unpleasant emotions.

I know what it feels like to be in limbo where life feels flimsy, unstable, and nothing seems to stick. I’ve been there, caught between who I was and who I was becoming, unsure if I’d ever feel grounded again. What I discovered is that this in-between space holds power: it’s where the old identities dissolve so the authentic self can emerge. My own journey of rediscovery taught me how to strip away roles, expectations, and masks until I could see myself clearly again. Now, I help others navigate this messy, uncertain middle ground, which is finding clarity, strength, and a sense of self that they can finally trust.

I thought resilience meant pushing through—gritting my teeth, swallowing feelings, and forcing myself to ‘just deal with it.’ But that left me drained and butting against as brick wall. You see, strength isn’t just enduring struggles; it’s about adapting, processing, and allowing yourself space to heal. Self-compassion was the hardest piece. I didn’t realize how much I held myself to unrealistic standards, expecting perfection where I should’ve offered myself grace. Over time, I started embracing the idea that strength isn’t about ignoring pain—it’s about acknowledging it and choosing how to move forward with care. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped others cultivate resilience in a way that feels sustainable—balancing the need for self-protection with the power of self-kindness. If you’ve ever felt like you’re being too hard on yourself or struggling to recover from challenges, I get it. Let’s explore ways to navigate life with strength and softness.

When I first became a mom, I often felt like I was failing my kids. I was constantly frustrated with myself and overwhelmed by the chaos around me. A lot of that frustration came from old wounds I carried from my own childhood — patterns of behavior and emotional pain that I didn't even realize were still affecting me. Over the past several years, I’ve been on a deep healing journey. I have worked through a lot of depression and anxiety, and started to truly unlearn the patterns I grew up with. I also navigated struggles with my own sexual addiction, which impacted my marriage and left my husband feeling used and disconnected. Through all of this, I have learned how to listen to my kids with empathy, support them through their struggles, and parent from a place of understanding rather than reaction. I know how hard it can feel when you're trying to heal yourself and show up differently for your family at the same time. I’d love to walk alongside you as you navigate the hard, beautiful work of healing while parenting.

There was a time when I felt stuck—dreaming of change but not knowing how to move forward. I would set big goals, but without the right habits, I found myself slipping back into old patterns. My breakthrough came when I realized that progress wasn’t about perfection—it was about building small, consistent steps and honoring each milestone along the way. I learned how to set goals that aligned with my values, create daily habits that supported them, and celebrate progress without shame or comparison. Today, I live with intention and clarity because of the systems I built to sustain growth. I now help others do the same: creating realistic goals, building habits that last, and finding joy in every step of the journey.

Life can shift in ways we never planned for—new jobs, moves, breakups, health changes, or sudden losses. Even good changes can feel overwhelming when the future looks unclear. I’ve been through my share of upheaval and have learned how to find steadiness when the ground feels unsteady. In our conversation, you’ll have a safe space to talk through what’s changing, process the emotions, and explore ways to ground yourself when nothing feels certain.

I've battled knowing who i am for a long time, and after years of continuing to work on myself i found skills that have helped me to be more readily willing to share and open up, and to know and believe in my self worth and to overcome negative self talk and feelings of unworthiness, and feeling unloved, and ashamed. i found the strength to see myself for who i am through my own eyes instead of the eyes of others.

In the digital world , bonds form quickly over the Internet. No matter the circumstances surrounding the connection, feelings are still feelings. Our feelings get hurt for any number of reasons, but when the connection begins to feel too strong or feels a little unusual, the connection can become overwhelming. Have you ever been catfished? Have you been scammed by someone impersonating someone else or been suddenly let down by expectations you didn't even realize you had? I was misled in a romantic scam, formed unrealistic bonds with people I never intended to meet in person, and felt intensely connected to the idea of someone who was just a fantasy. I've helped friends pull back from the edge of diving too deeply in an unhealthy digital relationship and helped them reassess and redirect that abundant energy flooding in. I learned to check my own developing emotions and spot red flags. Para social relationships are a consequence of the digital world. Let's talk about it together.

I’m an introvert who grew up in a family of introverts. I had no childhood friends because of homework and music lessons. A divorce and estrangement from family left me on my own entirely. My adult friendships were few, occasionally satisfying, but contact was sporadic. After retiring, I relocated to an area where I knew no one. Although now eager for connection, I had few social skills, and my initial efforts were fraught with unrealistic expectations in a closed community culture. It took a while, but I’ve turned the corner. A few deep friendships, a weekly Friday afternoon social group at my house, volunteer activities and counseling made the difference. It’s not an overnight solution, but I’m proof that a satisfactory, joyful recovery from isolation and loneliness by learning new skills is possible. It requires willingness to expand your comfort zone, persistence, resilience, a growth mind-set and good humor. Join me. Let’s start your journey to connection and healing.

I became a mom at 25, and soon after, I found myself juggling the complexities of single motherhood. My son was diagnosed with autism, and my ex-husband’s alcoholism created an even more unpredictable and chaotic environment. Going back to school for my master’s degree at 31 while raising my son wasn’t easy—especially since I was living on public assistance during that time. But, despite the challenges, I made it through. I learned how to manage my emotions, not expect perfection from myself, and embrace the mess that comes with being a single parent. There were times I wanted to scream in frustration, but I learned to let go of some societal expectations about what "perfect" parenting looks like. My experiences with co-parenting, financial instability, and trying to create a stable home for my son have given me a deep well of empathy for anyone trying to do their best under tough circumstances. Now, as a therapist, I know how powerful it is to simply show up and be real with someone, rather than offering advice that doesn’t land. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about showing up, messy and all.

Hello, I’m a 57-year-old who has faced many challenges over the years, including growing up with an abusive parent, losing a parent at a young age, enduring a 15-year marriage to an abusive spouse, navigating infertility and IVF, raising twins, caring for and losing a spouse to terminal illness, and the loss of a 24-year-old child to health issues. I have also faced my own health challenges and become disabled. These experiences, combined with my lifelong work supporting abused and neglected children, women, sex trafficking survivors, foster youth, and grieving parents, have given me a deep understanding of grief, crisis, and resilience. I am here to help you find strength, know you are never alone, and discover ways to survive and thrive even through life’s most difficult moments.

I grew up believing that strength meant being able to take harsh words, pressure, and negativity without breaking. If I crumbled under cruel or brutal talk, I thought it meant I was weak. Over time, I internalized that message and spoke to myself in the same harsh way, thinking it would make me stronger. But instead, it wore me down and made me feel small. Through practice, I’ve learned that positive self-talk isn’t weakness—it’s courage. Choosing to speak to myself with compassion instead of criticism has helped me build true resilience and self-acceptance. Now, I use gentle, encouraging words to remind myself that I am worthy, capable, and human. Practicing positive self-talk has been a big part of how I continue to heal and grow, and it’s something I’m passionate about sharing with others.

I’ve navigated multiple major life transitions — moving across states, pivoting careers, managing health challenges, and building my own business from the ground up. Through those seasons, I’ve learned how to create stability in the midst of uncertainty, honor my capacity, and rebuild my life in ways that feel aligned rather than forced. I bring lived experience, practical tools, and gentle encouragement to help others find their footing during big changes. In our conversation, I’ll provide support, gentle perspective, and encouragement to help you find stability and move forward in a way that feels aligned with who you are. Talk with me about adapting to major life changes with self-trust and resilience ✔ Approaches for moving through career pivots and personal reinvention ✔ Finding stability and clarity during uncertain times ✔ Ways to honor your limits while building a life that feels aligned

Suffering from chronic illnesses and difficulties taught m how to be a better advocate for myself so I know the pain of doctors, medicines, and treatments. and i am here to provide hope and resources so that you dont have to travel the road of pain suffering and agony alone

I spent years feeling like I was trying to translate my thoughts and emotions into a language that wasn’t mine. Conversations that seemed effortless for others—small talk, advocating for myself, expressing feelings without fear—felt exhausting. Being neurodivergent meant my brain processed interactions differently, and it wasn’t always easy for people to understand that. Over time, I learned that effective communication isn’t about forcing yourself to conform—it’s about discovering how you communicate best and finding strategies that help others meet you where you are. Whether it’s navigating relationships, workplace dynamics, or even daily interactions, having tools that honor your needs can make a huge difference. Through peer support, I’ve helped people uncover their communication strengths, manage overwhelm in social situations, and build confidence in expressing themselves authentically. You don’t have to mask or shrink yourself to be heard. Let’s explore what works for you.

I was in a toxic relationship for 14 long years where poor communication and emotional abuse became a daily struggle. I often found myself trapped in codependence, unable to see the damage until it was almost too late. Gradually, I learned that I deserved better and began the hard work of reclaiming my self-worth. Therapy, group meetings, and self-help books opened my eyes to a life beyond constant hurt. I made the brave decision to move across the country, leaving behind the patterns that held me captive. Each step forward was a mix of pain and growth, and the scars of manipulation took time to heal. At the same time, I navigated other major life challenges, including being an organ transplant recipient and caring for my aging parents. Today, I share my journey to help others find the strength to break free from toxic cycles. I want to offer practical advice, empathy, and a reminder that healing is possible.

Back in 2014, I wanted to be able to work from home because I had 3 kids at the time and wanted to be around more for them. I had some experience working as an instructional designer and creating online courses for students at the university I graduated from, as well as a degree in Mathematics. So I decided to take those skills and find people who needed short term help on projects or others who wanted a freelancer to do some overflow work from time to time. My first freelance job only paid $50 for probably a full days work, but it helped me begin to get an online reputation for quality work on a freelancing site. Soon I had a longer term contract that paid fairly well, and slowly was able to work my way up to several regular clients and consistent part time work. During this time, I learned how to negotiate for higher rates, manage client expectations, and when to turn down job offers, as well as juggle multiple projects, and market myself effectively in the freelance world. Over several years, my clients became increasingly better quality, and I was able to begin working full time. Now I have an employee myself, so that I can pass off extra work to him, and I have been through the hiring process several times since I worked with independent contractors as well. Most of what I have learned came through trial and error and running things by my husband who has served as my business coach. I also talked to a small business development center to take things to the next level a couple of years ago.

After losing both of my parents to COVID during the height of the pandemic, I fell into the darkest period of my life. Though they were in their 90s, the experience of losing them so close together, and under such isolating conditions, shook me deeply. I withdrew from nearly everything. I was overwhelmed by anxiety, sadness, and an unfamiliar sense of aimlessness that lingered far longer than I expected. Even when I was physically present, I felt emotionally unreachable, like I was watching life from behind a thick glass wall. That chapter changed me. It forced me to slow down, reflect, and ultimately reimagine what a meaningful life looks like. When I started to emerge from that fog, I knew I needed to live with more intention. I retired from my long career in marketing and began focusing on service and connection. I founded a nonprofit that teaches digital art to inner-city youth, and I now work with Social Venture Partners in Chicago to support grassroots organizations creating real change. This journey through grief and depression reshaped how I show up in the world. I know what it’s like to lose your footing and how powerful it can be to find it again. If you’re feeling disconnected or lost in the wake of mental health challenges, I’d be honored to walk with you as you find your way back.

After losing the love of my life, I realized this grief was different from previous losses. It felt like my life was a beautiful vase shattered into a hundred pieces. I tried to pick them up and put them back together, but I couldn’t do it alone. Some pieces were too far away, others didn’t fit, and I was frustrated and in despair. That’s when I accepted the love and help offered by those around me. Others could reach pieces I could not and helped me fit them back together. Together, we created a new vase—different but functional and ready to be used again. I learned not to be too proud to accept help because I wouldn’t have gotten up without it. Wisdom, I found, is simply knowledge gained through life’s hardest experiences. Prior to the death of my Wife, I had experienced the loss of my parents and other close family members. But they were no more than a punch in the gut. You fall down, sit for a bit, get up and go again. My Wifes loss was completely different. It was as if my life was a beautiful vase that had fallen to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces. I had to sit down and try gathering the pieces and try putting them back together again. Needless to say, I could not seem to do it by myself. Some pieces were too far away. I could not figure out how to make other pieces fit together. i was frustrated and in despair but that is when i realized how much love and help i had around me and I accepted this gift. Some people could reach the pieces that i could not reach and brought them back to me. Others had the ability to fit pieces back together that i could not do. By drawing on our strengths together we were able to create a new vase which is functional and ready for use again. Do not ever be too proud to accept the help that good people want to shelter you with. I would have not been able to get off the floor again if it wasn't for the help and love given to me by others. Wisdom is nothing more than knowledge gained through life's experiences.

When my baby arrived, life flipped upside down overnight. The sleepless nights, endless feedings, and constant uncertainty made even simple things feel impossible. I quickly learned that surviving those newborn days meant letting go of perfection and focusing on small wins—like managing one nap, one meal, or one load of laundry at a time. I found comfort in connecting with other new parents who reminded me I wasn’t alone, and I picked up tricks to balance work, childcare, and rest whenever I could steal it. Slowly, I built routines that worked for us and learned to trust myself more each day. Now, having come through that season, I can share what helped—practical tips, emotional support, and the reminder that every parent is doing better than they think.