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.

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.

I know what it’s like to feel isolated, anxious, and hesitant to connect with others — living with Avoidant Personality Disorder can make even simple interactions feel overwhelming. I’ve faced these challenges myself and worked through them, learning strategies to manage fear, build confidence, and create meaningful connections. I offer a safe, non-judgmental space to talk about your experiences, explore coping strategies, and gain practical tools for navigating social and personal situations with more ease.

I provide support for those struggling with toxic or emotionally abusive family dynamics. I understand what it’s like to feel trapped in unhealthy patterns, walking on eggshells, or being made to feel like the problem for simply setting boundaries. Through my own experiences of navigating family dysfunction and learning to protect my peace, I’ve gained deep empathy and insight into how painful and confusing these relationships can be. I offer a safe space to talk openly, sort through emotions, and find the strength to heal and move forward without guilt or shame.

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.

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 have always been someone that struggles with creating boundaries and understanding and holding true to boundaries, in order to protect my peace of mind and mental health and have always struggled to prioritize what is important, and to help me not to be stressed out once i make my decisions and learning how to create daily, weekly, and monthly priorities and obligations that must be done, versus things i would like to do or have time to do. Ive had to set up accountability reminders and journal entries in order to hold myself accountable, as well as have other people to hold me accountable to myself.

Sometimes it’s hard to find the right words—or any words at all—for what you’re feeling. Expression doesn’t always have to look like talking; it can be writing, drawing, moving your body, or even creating small rituals that help you release what’s inside. I know how freeing it can feel to discover a new outlet, one that feels natural and true to you. Over time, I’ve learned that expression isn’t about being “good” at something—it’s about giving yourself permission to be real, messy, and honest. Now, I offer space for others who want to explore different ways of expressing themselves, whether that’s through creativity, conversation, or simply finding language for feelings that have been hard to name.

Born with hypermobile-type Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, then getting Crohn's Disease as a child, undiagnosed until 21 years old, so I've experienced feeling misunderstood, frustrated & even hopeless at times. Diagnosed with SLE/discoid Lupus after biologic infusions. I've navigated the entire medical industry- from being undiagnosed to the full gamut- from insurance, the hospital matrix & specialist referral system, to medication nightmares & narcotics/ illness stigma from those who think "You Don't Look Sick" - ugh! I've experienced medical staff, including doctors & ER staff, pharmacists & more who treat me like a drug-seeker/ addict rather than a legitimate pain patient. I've also been in such extreme pain that most people wouldn't understand yet others claim that I'm "lucky" because I cannot work full-time, park in a handicap spot or am "skinney". Chronic illness is an ever-changing, ever-evolving experience with multiple facets & perspectives. I'm happy to share my experiences.

Living with over 25+ years of TWO invisible chronic illnesses has been a test of both my body and my mental health and spirit. For years, I felt dismissed and gaslit by doctors, misunderstood by those around me, and unheard in a world that often overlooks the complexity of invisible illness. My symptoms were real, but the support was not — and that left me feeling isolated, defeated, and at times, hopeless. But I made a choice: I would become my own best advocate. I researched, I asked hard questions, I pushed back when I was minimized, and I refused to give up on myself. I learned to listen to my body, to speak up in medical appointments, and to build a team that believed me. Balancing these health challenges while parenting, healing from trauma, and staying sober wasn’t easy — but it taught me what true strength looks like. I’ve faced discouragement, flares, and fear. But I’ve also discovered peace through acceptance, connection, and even joy within the struggle. If you’re dealing with chronic illness and feeling unheard, burned out, or alone, I want you to know that you matter. You deserve care, compassion, and hope — and together, we can talk about how to fight for it.

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 have been out as bisexual and navigating the waters of ethical non-monogamy for over 25 years, came out as specifically polyamorous and got involved in the community 15+ years ago, and was involved in regional poly community leadership for 5 years. I have tried just about every relationship configuration, made all the rookie mistakes and learned from them.

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’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 around addiction, poverty, and instability, I learned early on to cope by escaping my emotions however I could. As a teen and young adult, I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb myself, never thinking about the consequences. Even after surviving a house raid, an arrest, and a stay in a mental hospital, it took me years to confront the hold substances had on my life. Meanwhile, I found myself trapped in abusive relationships that mirrored the dysfunction I had grown up with. Through therapy, support groups, and a lot of inner child work, I slowly started to build a life based on self-respect rather than survival. I am now over two years sober from alcohol and several years free from drug use, continuing my healing journey with a focus on compassion and patience. I know how overwhelming it can be to untangle addiction from relationship trauma, and I want to be a steady, understanding presence for anyone facing that path today.

Since childhood I have been connected to my intuition and the spiritual world. I come from a long line of spiritual women and have always been able to see, sense, and simply know things beyond the physical. I have received visions, intuitive “downloads,” and guidance that helped me find meaning, hope, and direction during hard seasons. My gifts include clairvoyance, clairsentience, claircognizance, and card reading, and I pair these with tapping and grounding practices. I have also walked through deconstructing religion and redefining my relationship with spirituality. I believe everyone deserves the space to explore what resonates with their spirit, trust their inner knowing, and choose the path that brings curiosity, joy and understanding.

I had my son at age 23, divorced my son's narcissistic father at 26, and successfully raised an entire good man to independent adulthood as a single mom with no family support network. If you struggle with parenting in general or single parenting specifically, allow me to support you on your journey.

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.

I'm a small-town Colorado librarian, single mom, and suicide loss survivor who's navigated my own share of toxic relationships and narcissistic abuse. I have C-PTSD, and part of that comes from abuse dynamics that took me way too long to recognize and even longer to escape. I know what it's like to question your own reality. To wonder if you're the crazy one. To feel like you're losing your mind while everyone else thinks your abuser is charming. To finally leave and then struggle with the guilt, the trauma bonds, the fear of being "too damaged" now. I'm not a therapist. I'm someone who's been through it, done the work, and come out the other side still standing. I know the difference between what helps and what's just more gaslighting disguised as self-help. If you're recovering from narcissistic abuse - whether you just left, left years ago, or are still trying to figure out if what you experienced was "bad enough" - I'm here for the real talk without the toxic positivity.

My life has been rife with challenges. I was born into an abusive marriage and conceived in marital rape. I went on to be abused and neglected by both my parents in different ways. I was homeless from right after my 15th birthday until I was 17. In that period, I was groomed and taken in, then sexually trafficked, by people I trusted. I escaped at age 17 and went into group homes to help me get on my feet. I was emancipated and got my first place at 17. I went on to be involved in multiple abusive marriages./relationships. Now in my mid forties, I have benefited from perspective, solitude, and therapy tremendously. I have learned how to listen to my gut, avoid entanglement with or leave toxic relationships, and find peace, healing and personal fulfillment. I have learned to assert and maintain firm, healthy boundaries. Today I thrive!

As someone diagnosed later in life with ADHD and identified as a Highly Sensitive Person with AuDHD and CPTSD overlap, I know how challenging it can be to operate in a world that isn’t built for sensitive or neurodivergent wiring. I’ve spent years learning how to design my work, home, and routines to reflect my real capacity — not someone else’s expectations. I bring compassion, understanding, and lived tools to help others do the same.

I've been rather sickly my entire life. I've lived with severe asthma from a very young age, chronic pain from Degenerative Disc Disease and weak joints since my late teens, severe diabetes for over a decade... but then in 2017, everything changed when I collapsed in public. I couldn't walk safely as a fall risk, often couldn't speak clearly due to acute brain fog, and was perpetually exhausted. and dizzy. After 8 years of living with symptoms that completely devastated my life, I was finally diagnosed with POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), and later hEDS (Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. Now that I know my enemy, I've been able to make lifestyle changes and learn coping skills that have vastly improved my quality of life.

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.

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.

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

For the ones clocking in every day but wondering if this is really the life you want. When work feels unfulfilling, when promotions never come, or when the only thing keeping you there is the pension you’ll collect someday—it’s hard not to wonder if you’re wasting your potential. You see other people building things that excite them, living lives that make sense, and you can’t help but think: Why not me? Maybe you’re curious about starting something of your own but don’t think you have the money to make it happen. Maybe you’re torn between stability and freedom. Or maybe you just need space to admit what you already know—this isn’t working anymore. I’ve been there—starting over, broke but determined, turning what I could do into what I wanted to do. Now I help creative, multi-passionate people find resourceful ways to turn their skills, stories, and hobbies into income streams they never thought possible. You don’t need to have it all together—you just need to start where you are.

I offer understanding and support for those healing from religious trauma. Growing up, I was physically forced to attend church, and if I refused, I was disciplined harshly. Those experiences taught me how damaging it can be when faith is used to control rather than uplift. Later in life, I was also targeted and judged by a religious person simply for being bisexual. These experiences have given me a deep empathy for others who’ve been shamed, silenced, or hurt under the guise of religion. I create a safe, judgment-free space where people can process their pain, reclaim their voice, and begin to heal at their own pace.

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.

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.

I grew up being taught that I should be abstinent until marriage and if I don't I would get an std, HIV/AIDS, or get pregnant. Best case scenario, my life would be over or Worst case scenario, you know, worse would happen. The only thing I was taught about when you are allowed to have sex was that a woman had the obligation to please her man. I didn't just hear those messages from religious environments but the media too. It made me feel deep shame about who I was growing to be. Ashamed about every part of who I was. At a young age, I really felt in my spirit that abstinence until marriage was not for me. It just didn't make sense to me, but that doesn't mean that the shame, blame, oppression, voicelessness, and fear that came from those teachings didn't stay. I still believe in God, but I also believe that God doesn't need me to be oppressed & oblivious to love me. So I decided that I wanted to embrace & discover who I was as a sexual being outside of the desires of a sexual partner.

I see or hear something that displeases me; there’s an immediate surge of energy in my gut. I feel like cursing or striking out. Or I feel like crying and hiding as when I was a child and anger wasn't allowed. Sometimes anger simmers unconsciously below the surface, waiting for a moment to erupt, most often at an inappropriate time bringing guilt or shame. It might translate into passive aggression, a biting comment or icy silence. Sometimes it morphs into something entirely different – anxiety or sadness or fear. Without psychoanalyzing, developing awareness of unrecognized anger can put us in control of it. Anger manifests in many ways. It often masquerades as insomnia and food disorders. Understanding how it manifests, acknowledging its presence, exploring it's origins and recognizing this consciously helps us better navigate it's various forms and respond in ways that are constructive rather than destructive. Giving help with such exploration is the work of a Warmer Expert.

I understand the unique challenges and experiences of sex workers because I’ve lived them myself. From navigating safety, boundaries, and workplace dynamics to managing stigma and personal growth, I’ve experienced it all and come through stronger. I offer a safe, non-judgmental space to talk about your experiences, share guidance, and provide support tailored to your needs. Whether you’re looking for advice, emotional support, or someone who truly understands the realities of the work, I’m here to help you feel heard, empowered, and confident in your choices.

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!

Relationships are powerful containers for growth and self-discovery, and I’ve spent my life studying them. After a marriage ended due to my partner’s infidelity, I embarked on a path of self-discovery, healing, and reflection. Now as a massage therapist, my clients often share deeply about their personal relationships, and I realized how much I loved simply listening and holding space for them. This inspired me to create a unique style of couples sessions focused on connection, presence, and understanding each other. Over time, I began offering listening hours, supporting people in processing their feelings, exploring their perspectives, and reflecting on what they truly want in their relationships. My current partner and I practice an intentional form of non-monogamy that prioritizes both of our individual needs and growth. We honor monogamous values as well as polyamorous perspectives, learning to navigate jealousy, quality time, and communication with curiosity and respect.

For over 15 years, I was in and out of psychiatric hospitals—places that left me with trauma, nightmares, and deep shame. I was restrained, forcibly medicated, silenced, and treated as less than human. Many of the facilities were dirty, cold, and run by staff who ignored my autonomy and voice. These experiences shattered my trust in the mental health system. But through the pain, I found a fire for advocacy. I became a peer support specialist and started Unlock the Psych Ward Doors, a support group for survivors like me. I still carry the wounds, but I’ve found strength in speaking my truth. I hold space for others to process and heal from the dehumanization of forced treatment. I offer a safe space free of judgment, where pain is honored and voices are heard. I know what it’s like to feel voiceless—and I’m here to listen, believe, and walk beside anyone ready to reclaim their power.

For the past few years I have been on a path of finding purpose and balance. From moving cities, relocating for jobs and returning to college. While my experience has been anything but linear the path helped me to find more clarity and experiences that brought me to a deeper knowing of myself. If you want support while you are exploring purpose - I Am Here For You -

For the parents doing double-duty and still wondering if it’s enough. When you’re raising kids on your own, it’s easy to feel like there needs to be more—more time, more opportunities, more money for the extras that other families seem to have. You pour yourself into providing the best you can, but carrying the weight of two people can make even your best feel like it falls short. Do you feel like no matter what you do, it never measures up? If you’re a solo parent exhausted from giving it all and still questioning if you’re failing, let’s talk. Maybe you just need space to admit the guilt and pressure you’ve been holding. Maybe you want to release the shame of not having a partner, or talk about the fear that you’ll never feel “whole” enough for love again. However you show up, I get it—I’ve had those same doubts as a solo mom, and we can work through them together.

I am dedicated to helping couples and families strengthen their relationships, drawing on her experience as a military spouse. She guides partners in building trust, improving communication, navigating separation, evolving marriages, and transitioning through divorce. Her mission is to create resilient, connected relationships where love, understanding, and growth thrive—even through life’s toughest challenges

Growing up in a home with alcoholic parents left me confused, angry, and full of self-doubt. I didn’t understand why I struggled so much with low self-esteem and loneliness until I started therapy. That’s when everything began to make sense. I realized I had internalized a lot of the dysfunction and had to re-learn how to treat myself with compassion. Through years of therapy and working the recovery model, I learned how to re-parent myself and begin healing the trauma I carried from childhood. It wasn’t easy, but it allowed me to make better choices—not just for myself, but for my daughters too. I became the kind of parent I always needed, someone who could create a peaceful home and break the cycle of emotional and physical abuse. Now, as a certified peer supporter, I help others who were also raised in chaotic environments understand their patterns, set boundaries, and begin to heal. If you’ve ever felt alone or ashamed of where you come from, I’m here to walk through it with you.

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.

I spent two years of my young adulthood in and out of psychiatric hospitals, sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not. During that time, I felt swallowed by depression, anxiety, and the aftermath of painful relationships that left me unsure if I’d ever feel free again. I was constantly cycling through crisis, often misunderstood, and sometimes silenced in the very systems that were supposed to help. Then I discovered Psychiatric Advanced Directives (PADs), and everything started to shift. I’ve used PADs to express my wishes, protect my rights, and bring my care team—my psychologist, naturopath, even legal support—into alignment. I’ve rewritten my PAD more times than I can count, especially after triggering experiences, because I’ve learned how powerful it is to state clearly what I need before a crisis hits. Creating a PAD has helped me not only stay safe but also stay connected to who I am, even in my hardest moments. Now, I want to help others do the same. If you’re navigating mental health challenges and want to build a plan that supports the practical imagination of frameworking for your own #ThisAbility, I’d love to walk you through what PADs are and how they can support your freedom, safety, and care.

I came out to a very religious family and was alienated when I chose to live my life on my terms. After being apart for six years, I was welcomed back into the family, and they embraced my lifestyle and me. Love truly does conquer all.

Growing up my sister and I always complained about how my mom had a specfic order for loading the dishwasher, doing the laundry, and organizing the fridge. But now I am the same way, and it is more than just wanting things to be neat or organized, it's a nagging thought or consistent voice in my brain telling me things need to be a certain way and if they can't be my anxiety is raised. The thing about OCD is that it may seem nonsensical to those on the outside, like not putting the dishes in the washer in the "correct" way, but for those with OCD it is constant voice telling me that if things aren't the way I want them, then they are wrong and I will continue to think about it until I fix or change it. After being diagnosed with OCD, I was able to go through my thoughts and categorize them as rational and OCD, allowing me to challenge my OCD thoughts with rational thoughts and facts.

I was born into a family and community that did not believe in mental health conditions so that meant that I grew up not having language to describe when I was struggling with my mental health. If I was struggling it had to be because I wasn't doing enough, praying enough, believing God enough, having enough faith, or I wasn't grateful, I was being spoiled, I was too lazy, dehumanizing word after looks of disgust pushed me down further into depression. No one knew what I was going through but they judged me. And I judged myself because that is all I knew how to do, but I couldn't see that it was making things worse. I was fed untrue and ignorant beliefs about what would become my own diagnosis and when I was diagnosed, for the first couple of years I didn't believe it and when I did come to grips with it, I accepted the stigma from my upbringing more than accepting what I was going through because that is all I knew. Now I know that accepting my diagnoses was my first step to healing.

I have had the gastric sleeve, a surgery where they remove most of my stomach. It was the best thing I could have even done for myself, however, in the beginning, I would have never told you that. It's hard to give up a relationship with food, trust me, I know. I would love to be able to help you through the ups and downs of life after surgery. This includes your new body - how you love it, how you hate it, and how you JUST miss pasta. I'm here, let's get through it.

I was a daily drinker for 18 years and now I have 18 years of continuous sobriety! My journey hasn’t been smooth sailing. I’ve faced addiction, mental health challenges, co-parenting struggles, and the heartbreak of losing loved ones. Through it all, I leaned into therapy and a strong support network to come out stronger. I'm now a Certified Medi-Cal Peer Support Specialist, and helping others find their footing is something I care deeply about. Whether you're navigating sobriety, parenting kids with complex needs, or just trying to keep your head above water, I’m here to listen, relate, and support however I can.

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.

The biggest challenge was coming out to myself. In the recovery community we talk about the "gifts of sobriety," things we learn about ourselves once the substance induced haze dissipates. My coming out was just that.....a gift. I had just turned 50 when I told my drinking story at a women's AA meeting. While I was clueless about myself, every lesbian in the room knew I was one of them. Due to internalized homophobia and unfamiliarity with the lifestyle, I intuitively felt threatened: I was embarrassed and ashamed, afraid of rejection. Being in corporate mode, I "hired" a "consultant" to help me assess my status. In the process, I found I already had lesbian friends. I found acceptance of myself and others. Whether you knew when you were 8 or are just now in discovery, coming out can be the most liberating of experiences. I've been there, done that, and I can help make your journey easier. You don't have to navigate it alone. Let me co-pilot your journey of discovery.

I'm not a therapist. I'm not "healed." I'm someone in the trenches who shows up to work anyway and has learned what actually works versus what sounds good in theory. If you work in libraries, social work, nonprofits, education, or any helping profession while dealing with your own mental health struggles, trauma, or recovery—I get it. The imposter syndrome. The triggers at work. The exhaustion of performing "fine." The guilt about boundaries. I'm here for real talk, practical strategies, and validation that you're not too broken to do this work.

For years, I worked in the corporate world and held a variety of other positions within my community as well. Over time, I was able to learn how to deal with a multitude of personality types, and can help you navigate complicated situations and varying communication skills.

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.

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.

Mindfulness has been a grounding practice in my own journey—helping me slow down, reconnect with my breath, and find presence even in difficult moments. When life feels overwhelming, mindfulness can become a safe place to return to. It doesn’t erase the challenges, but it gives us tools to meet them with more calm, clarity, and compassion. In our time together, I offer: Gentle guidance in grounding and centering practices Support in noticing and honoring your emotions without judgment Space to explore mindfulness as a way of softening stress and anxiety Practical tools you can bring into your daily life to create balance and inner peace Whether you’re brand new to mindfulness or deepening your practice, I will walk alongside you—helping you find presence in the moment, one breath at a time. 🌿

I grew up surrounded by emotional chaos—parents struggling with alcoholism and depression, and a childhood full of absence, confusion, and pain. I witnessed and experienced physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, and for a long time I believed that love had to hurt. Those early wounds followed me into adulthood, shaping my relationships, my decisions, and the way I saw myself. I experienced miscarriage, divorce, and unhealthy romantic partnerships that echoed the abandonment I felt as a child. For years, I felt unlovable, constantly questioning my worth. But eventually, I chose healing. Through therapy, education, holistic work, and deep personal reflection, I began to break the cycle. I’ve now built a life rooted in healthy love, both for my children and for myself. My journey wasn’t easy, but it showed me that healing is possible, even when life is still messy. If you're feeling stuck in old patterns or questioning your worth, I want to walk beside you as you begin to reclaim your story.

TRIGGER WARNING!!! My life has been rife with challenges. I was born into an abusive marriage and conceived in marital rape. I went on to be abused and neglected by both my parents in different ways, including being raped by my father from ages 8-10. I was neglected and physically abused by my mother, who attempted to strangle me when I was 14. That's when I went onto the streets. I was homeless from right after my 15th birthday until I was 17. In that period, I was groomed and taken in, then sexually trafficked, by people I trusted. I escaped at age 17 and went into group homes to help me get on my feet. I was emancipated and got my first place at 17. I went on to be involved in multiple abusive marriages. Now in my mid forties, I have benefited from perspective, solitude, and therapy tremendously. I have learned how to listen to my gut, avoid entanglement with toxic relationships, and find peace and healing and personal fulfillment. I have learned to assert my boundaries.

Life has thrown me more than my fair share of obstacles! Illness from childhood. Broken home. GenX childhood- so I basically raised myself AND my younger brother. Teen pregnancy... so married at 17. Abusive home, eventually into a single parent home. Latchkey kid. Yet.... I am still married, yes, to the same man, over 35 years later. We raised 3 kids into adulthood to be independent, and all college educated. I owned my own business and then ran a multi-level beauty company that I grew over 10 fold in 10 years, eventually having to leave due to my declining health, but I was very successful at what I did. I found successes and happiness in spite of a lot life has thrown at me. Resilience, creativity, resourcefulness, and the ability to get up and dust myself off to keep going even when I feel awful... all things I value, but I also value kindness, honesty, caring and friendship even more.

My first awakening came at 23, when everything in my life suddenly simplified into one undeniable truth: love is what matters most. Not success, not perfection, not external validation: just love. Many near-death experiencers describe this same realization, that love is the core of everything: and I felt that truth awaken in me so clearly that it changed how I saw life, people, and purpose. Years later, in my 40s, a second awakening arrived: quieter at first, then powerful and expansive. Through deep meditation and the Gateway Experience, my inner world opened. My intuition sharpened, my awareness deepened, and abilities I never expected: psychic sensitivity, mediumship, subtle perception began to unfold naturally. Whether you're feeling expanded, confused, curious, or in transition, I help you make sense of what’s unfolding, stay rooted, and integrate your insights with clarity and emotional safety.

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.

I’ve seen how hard it is to walk away from someone you once loved, even when you know the relationship isn’t healthy. One of the most impactful moments in my life was helping a close friend recognize that she was in a toxic relationship. She kept holding on to the rare good moments, second-guessing herself, and rationalizing her partner’s disrespectful behavior. I didn’t push—I just listened, gently asked questions, and helped her see how those patterns were affecting her self-worth. We talked through what healthy love really looks like, and I encouraged her to keep track of what she was experiencing so she could see it more clearly. Over time, she found the clarity and courage to leave. That experience taught me how deeply we crave connection—even when it hurts—and how valuable it is to have someone by your side while you figure things out.

I was diagnosed with Autism in my 40s, after a lifetime of misdiagnoses -- and an adulthood building a professional career. My diagnosis brought with it the chance to build skills in ways best suited for my neurodivergent brain, as well as the knowledge and capacity to ask for accommodations in my personal and work life. Disclosing your Autism, ADHD, or AuADHD has impact, both positive and negative. I've lived through both! Let's talk through the potential benefits and challenges of disclosure, the different "levels" of disclosure (to HR, to colleagues, to your boss, to your customers) to help you decide if, when, and what kind of disclosure (if any!) would best support your needs and goals.

At 83, I’m living a full life – with all the ups, downs, sharp turns, and potholes that come with it. I’m a mother of two. I was a Silicon Valley CFO, a Marriage Family Therapist, a care giver for my dad. I’ve been married and divorced more than once. I’ve been my own best friend and only supporter, successfully navigating my world on my own for the last 42 years. I recreated myself several times and I retired at 70. But every 10 years brought physical, psychological, emotional challenges – my body and mind not feeling as good or working as expected. Hormonal changes (for men & women), clothes don’t fit right, loss of energy, vim and vigor, ailments and illness, “senior moments” and loss of friends and family. During this time, I created a community for myself through friendships, volunteering (now as a Senior Peer Counselor), and hosting a weekly Mahjongg game while managing a fractured femur and the resulting identity crisis. If any of this sounds familiar, I'm here for you.

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.

For the ones carrying the weight of caregiving and wondering how much longer you can keep going. When your days revolve around doctor’s appointments, medications, and constant worry, it’s easy to forget that you deserve grace. Resentment creeps in even though you love the person you’re caring for, and the financial strain of missed work or hard choices only adds to the guilt. It can feel like you’re choosing between their needs and your well-being—either way, you’re the one left drained. Do you feel like no one really understands what you’re carrying? That you don’t even know how to ask for help, or what kind of help would actually make a difference? If you’re overwhelmed, grieving, and running on empty, let’s talk. Maybe you need to vent the resentment you’ve been ashamed to admit, or maybe you want to unpack the guilt of not being able to do it all. I’ve been there too. What kept me going was allowing outside support and rewriting the expectations I thought I had to live up to.

If you have difficulty with procrastination, completing tasks, and staying focused, you may benefit from body doubling. If you have tasks that you want or need to take care of but can't seem to get started, or stay motivated throughout task completion, book your session and I will be there with you every step of the way. It can be so helpful to have someone near while you work on your To Do list, organize your workspace, or fold your laundry. Anything you need to do but have actively avoided, I am here to help you get it all done. I have used the Body Doubling method myself when my procrastination has had me 'stuck', and it has been a great help to me! I'd love to help you, too.

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.

I’m a single mom that has learned through my experiences that I matter, I deserve happiness, and pouring into myself is necessary to thrive. I have suffered unimaginable loss, dealt with enormous obstacles, and managed to learn how to keep going.

I’m someone who has walked the tough path of recovery, dealing with challenges related to eating disorders (OSFED with anorexic and AFRID tendencies), addiction (including cocaine, Xanax, and marijuana), and mental health struggles like depression, anxiety, PTSD, and OCD. I’ve spent the last two years in recovery, learning how to build a healthier relationship with myself and others. Along the way, I also navigated emotional and verbal abuse, which made my journey even more complex. My goal now is to help others who are facing similar battles, whether it's with eating disorders, addiction, or difficult relationships. I’m here to offer support, share my story, and remind you that recovery is possible—even when it feels impossible.

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.

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.

GenXers have reached that moment—gulp—the so-called ‘midlife’ years, complete with the dreaded menopause. Ugh! A lot of us hit these years fully unprepared for what was coming. We heard about the hot flashes, but even that wasn't named correctly to explain the actual misfiring of your temperature regulation. It feels like an electrical short in a lamp wire, sending sparks flying, causing temps to both jump but also to instantly plummet, only to rebound within seconds. The (very, very, VERY) dry symptoms to the haywire emotions & mood swings, it's all extraordinarily confusing, especially for us feral, completely self-reliant GenXers, who weren't at all prepared for this transition. We mostly raised ourselves & our parents certainly weren't talking about Menopause at the dinner table, or to us at all, leaving us guessing what we were in for. We can talk about how to manage the changes & challenges of midlife, especially with a lack of prior knowledge or understanding of options for symptom management.

Dating in your 40s or 50s can feel like stepping into a foreign country—especially if it’s been a while. The rules have changed, the apps are confusing, and you may wonder if it’s even worth trying again. I’ve been there. After years of marriage, I re-entered the dating world feeling unsure, vulnerable, and honestly, a little lost. But with time, reflection, and support, I learned how to show up confidently, spot red flags early, and stay true to what really matters to me. If you're trying to date again without losing yourself in the process, I can help you navigate it all with wisdom and heart.

My educational journey has shown me the power we each have as individuals to make significant changes in our lives, explore what is most fascinating to us, and find academic commumities that embrace us for our talents and care for our wellbeing. I am here if you want to talk through the admissions process, deciding if attending is the right fit, or choosing what to specialize in. I am a recent grad with lots of research and admissions experience.

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!

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.

There are so many things I thought I would do and be -- and then finances, family dynamics, accidents, illness...life happened. I had to redefine myself: who I am, how I move through the world, and how I find meaning. It's a quiet pain to trade one dream for another, one that feels a whole lot like failure. And in our culture, we bear our perceived failures in silence, missing out on the opportunity to connect with one another over a very common, very human experience. Let's break the stigma together. We can mourn the you that you lost or who will never be, dream out loud about you you are becoming, and, even, if useful, start to draw up a plan for how to bridge the gaps and fill the missing spots that make it feel hard to see the next steps. Let's meet the today you, with all your talents and challenges, and map a life that's yours.

Over time, I've learned to challenge those societal norms and embrace the fact that my mental health, my emotions, and my identity are all valid parts of who I am. I've started to let go of the need to fit into prescribed boxes and embrace the messy, beautiful complexity of being human. It hasn’t been easy, and there are still moments where doubt creeps in, but I no longer feel the pressure to pretend everything’s fine when it's not. I’m slowly learning to be kinder to myself and give myself the space to explore who I am, outside the constraints of society's expectations. This journey of self-acceptance has been liberating—I'm no longer living in the shadows of perfection or the fear of judgment. Instead, I’m embracing my uniqueness and finding strength in my authenticity. It’s empowering to know that I don’t have to conform to anyone else’s idea of “normal” to be worthy or happy. Every step forward is a victory, and I’m learning to celebrate myself for all that I am.

Living with multiple invisible illnesses—like Crohn’s, Ehlers-Danlos, Lupus, POTS, MVP, MCAS & ADHD—can feel isolating & make socializing challenging- through many of life's stages. From the confusing teen years into the juggling game of marriage & parenthood, on into the sometimes lonely empty-nester years, I’ve navigated these experiences myself & can help you find purpose, connection & fulfillment- even in a disconnected world. In this session, we’ll explore ways to manage expectations & navigate daily challenges, embrace self-care & create meaningful routines that support your well-being & sense of belonging. We can also simply unpack & unload the burden you're carrying in this world that doesn't always seem built to embrace emotions that can often feel bigger than our capacity to carry them. More than anything I care that you feel heard when you speak with me, I aim to be a safe space, where you can discuss whatever you need to lighten your mental load & find peace.

My parents had me when they were in their 40s, so I became a primary caregiver and decision-maker much earlier than most of my peers. Since my parents' passing, my husband and I have started living with his mother, anticipating caregiver duties which are coming soon. Moving from child to a more, well, "parental" role is one of the most challenging changes in family dynamics anyone will face, and one of the least talked about. Whether they stay in their own home, move in with you (or you with them) or they transition to an adult care or nursing home, facing their aging, changing health, and needs can be beyond overwhelming. How do you talk to them about driving, about their budget, about end-of-life? How do you balance your own personal and professional responsibilities while taking on a more active role in your parents' care? And, for many of us, how do we negotiate difficult relationships with our parents now that they need so much of our attention and energy?

I grew up nestled between a National Wildlife Refuge and a National Park, where my earliest teachers were rivers, native plants, and the cycles of land and sea. Over the years, I’ve worked on organic farms, in a fishery, as a nature guide, and in youth education—each experience deepening my belief that nature doesn’t just teach us, it heals us. That path led me to become an ecopsychologist over 20 years ago, and later a neuroeconomist. I’ve always been fascinated by how natural systems shape our brains, our behavior, and our capacity to imagine better futures. For me, heliotropic idealism—orienting toward what brings light—has been a powerful tool for navigating pain, while phosphorescent mindfulness helps me stay connected to wonder when dreaming feels hard. I’ve learned that nature speaks through more than just sights and sounds; it speaks through our senses, instincts, and longings. I don’t have all the answers, but I know how to ask the right questions and how to listen with all of myself. I’d love to hold space for others who want to reconnect with the parts of themselves they may have forgotten—and remember their own “wordless voice of nature.”

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.

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.

For decades, I was misdiagnosed with behavioral health challenges, such as Bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder. The truth is -- I was Autistic, and all my challenges stemmed from burnout and exhaustion, navigating a world not designed for my brain. Autism diagnostics have changed in the past decade, and more and more "invisible Autistics" (those that are 'high" functioning, except in all the ways they aren't; Autistic folks who are female; and those with a spectrum of challenges and gifts outside the cliche of what Autism is) are coming to understand that they may be Autistic...and not lazy, broken, weird, or "crazy." Whether you are an adult who, after researching (or the diagnosis of your child/close family member) are starting to suspect you're on the Spectrum, a self-diagnosed adult, or an adult with a recent formal diagnosis, learning you're Autistic carries grief, resentment, anger, but also joy.

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

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 was married at 17, in part due to an unplanned pregnancy, but that in no way lessens the legitimacy of our commitment. We are still married over 36 years later, with 3 grown, independent, successful, college-educated children. We are extremely committed to our relationship and very comfortable in that commitment. We both maintain a high level of respect, reverence, and admiration for each other in addition to the love and attraction we have shared since our teenage years. We've experienced a great deal of strife, from loss of jobs and income to chronic illness, illness. Even the death of parents and family, along with handling the full range of emotions in raising children. We have moved states away from anyone we knew, successfully reintegrating our kids into a new school system, eventually assisting them into college. I've navigated a relationship through thick and thin, learning to turn into our marriage rather than away to solidify our bond into the tempered steel strength it is today.

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.

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 understand firsthand the fear, uncertainty, and isolation that comes with domestic violence. I’ve had to flee with my two children to a domestic violence shelter, face homelessness, and rebuild my life from the ground up. Through these experiences, I’ve learned resilience, strength, and practical strategies for navigating such challenging situations. I offer a safe, compassionate space to talk about your experiences, share guidance, and provide support. My goal is to help you feel heard, understood, and empowered, so you can take steps toward safety, healing, and confidence.

I offer support for those facing or recovering from homelessness, because I’ve lived it myself — multiple times. I know what it’s like to lose everything and have to start over from nothing. Through those experiences, I learned strength, resilience, and how to rebuild a stable life with hope and purpose. My support comes without judgment, only compassion and understanding for what it truly takes to survive and rise again.

After the births of both of my children, I struggled deeply with postpartum anxiety. I constantly second-guessed myself, wondering if I was making the right decisions and feeling overwhelmed by the pressure to do everything perfectly. It was an isolating experience, especially with my husband often away due to his military career. Over time, I learned to trust my instincts as a parent, accept support from family and friends, and set healthy boundaries to protect my mental and emotional well-being. Therapy helped me realize that needing help didn't mean I was failing—it meant I was being human. Now, raising two toddlers, I feel more confident in my role as a mother and more at peace with the ups and downs that come with parenting. Through my personal experience and my background in counseling and community health, I love helping other parents see that it’s okay to trust themselves and to build a support system around them. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to figure it all out by yourself.

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.

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 cared for Dad for 7 years, first in my home, then in his, each posing unique challenges. He was deferential in mine, but very controlling in his. I was building a professional practice, he was dealing with consequences of bladder cancer surgery. We had complicated feelings about each other: he praised my dedication to him, and feared I'd harm him with his medications; I resented leaving my home, being the caregiving sibling. I acted horribly at times (I locked him out of my RV which he dearly wanted to work on) and he reciprocated (making my friends feel unwelcome in his home). He'd call me by my mother's name. (Parental conflict was the norm growing up.) I came to have great compassion for her. We had moments of great generosity and we even had fun together, too. It brought out the worst and the best in us. But it never occurred to us to seek help, a trusted outsider to help provide perspective and verbalize frustrations. If this sounds familiar, let's work on it together.

Living with depression can mean that there can be periods of time where it is difficult to do everyday mundane tasks that seem easy to do. For me, these things include but are not limited to, getting out of bed, socializing, personal interests and hobbies, drinking water and the list goes on. Over time I noticed that those things were easy to do when I was feeling good but when I was feeling bad I couldn't figure out what I did when I was feeling good to make things so easy to do! That struggle only added to the depressive downward spiral because all I wanted was to figure this out. Now that I know that I experience depressive episodes and I experience them a lot more intensely during the winter holidays, I started to build a depression toolbox for myself in the fall to prepare for the Winter season. I know that my depressive symptoms are around grief, and it's easy to experience more Isolation during this time for me. So I create a literal container of things to help me.

When I was 27, I was diagnosed with soft tissue sarcoma in my right thigh. After radiation, surgery, and chemotherapy, I was cancer-free. Due to so much of my muscle tissue being removed, I joke that I no longer have a quad muscle, but a "throd." This was especially difficult for me as I had run several marathons and was training for the New York Marathon when I got my diagnosis. I was engaged and ended up not postponing the wedding, and I am bald in my wedding photos. My wedding vows included a joke: "I'm sick and poor, so I know you are not lying when you agree to these vows." After I recovered, I started running again, and 5 years later, my leg broke due to the bone being weakened by the radiation. I had to go through multiple surgeries, receiving a bone graft from my hip and a pin in my leg. For a long time, I was angry and full of self-pity, but I realized that I could not change my circumstances, and once I accepted it, I was able to draw strength from the experience.

I understand how overwhelming social situations can feel when you’re living with social anxiety. I’ve faced these challenges myself and have learned strategies to manage fear, build confidence, and navigate interactions with more ease. I provide a safe, non-judgmental space to talk about your experiences, explore coping techniques, and gain practical tools for connecting with others.

From 2019 to 2021, I smoked weed every day. What started out feeling harmless eventually became a daily ritual I depended on to eat, sleep, and cope with stress. During that time, I was graduating from college in the middle of the pandemic — a chaotic season that only intensified my usage. I lost touch with my ambition, gained over 40 pounds due to overeating, and felt increasingly disconnected from my goals. My tolerance became so high that I needed excessive amounts just to feel something, which often triggered intense panic attacks that left me shaken and scared. In 2021, after one final terrifying experience, I stopped. I haven’t smoked since. Since then, I’ve reconnected with motivation, clarity, and self-discipline. I’ve lost 20 pounds, pursued things I’m proud of, and built a life that feels more intentional. People often say weed isn’t addictive, but I know firsthand how it can become a powerful daily crutch — even when it’s socially accepted or legal. I believe more people deserve compassionate, non-judgmental support in recognizing when their relationship with weed isn’t serving them. I’m here to share what helped me and to validate that you’re not alone if you’re struggling.

I’ve lived the challenges of navigating social services myself, including fighting for my daughter’s well-being through the child welfare system. These experiences have given me a firsthand understanding of the stress, confusion, and heartache families can face, and the determination it takes to advocate effectively. I’ve worked on real cases, providing guidance, support, and practical strategies to help families navigate complex systems and access the resources they need. My approach is rooted in empathy, patience, and a non-judgmental perspective — I’m here to listen, empower, and walk alongside you through even the toughest situations.

For years, I noticed a pattern in my life: relationships that didn’t work, family that criticized, jobs that felt unfulfilling, and efforts that seemed invisible. I complained, gave more, hoped people would see my value—but nothing changed. I felt stuck, frustrated, and like a victim. Eventually, I realized that waiting for others to validate me wasn’t the answer. I had to take responsibility for my own goals, dreams, and needs. It was scary because it meant I alone held the power to succeed—or fail. Through reflection and intentional changes, I slowly regained confidence, learned to make choices that served me, and discovered what it truly means to feel in control of my life.

In 2016, I met someone who appeared to be the man of my dreams. In 2017, just after we got engaged, my partner came out as a trans woman. I supported and aided her throughout her gender transition journey and I would love to help others navigate this process and feel properly supported themselves.

I had my first drink at 10 years old and was binge drinking regularly as a teenager. By 18, I was drinking daily and using drugs. I stayed stuck in that cycle until I was 36. It took me over two years of serious effort to finally quit. I didn’t do it alone—I leaned into a 12-step program, therapy, and a lot of support from friends who had been there. Now, I’ve been sober for over 17 years. Helping others get sober has become a part of my life too. I’ve supported friends through relapses, connected people with local resources, and even watched someone go from crying in despair to four years clean and thriving. I know the shame, the cravings, the lies we tell ourselves, and I also know it’s possible to live differently. I’m a dad, a surfer, and someone who still works on my mental health daily. Recovery has given me a life I never thought I could have. I’m here to listen, share what worked for me, and walk alongside anyone who’s just starting out or struggling to hold on.

I found body doubling about 2 years ago when going through a depression and needed help to get things done. It was a warm, supportive space where I didn't have to do it alone. Here we show up together, set gentle goals, and move through tasks side-by-side. Perfect if you're overwhelmed, anxious, procrastinating, or just need grounding energy to get things done. So if you work better when someone is quietly holding space with you then this session gives you emotional support and gentle accountability while you complete tasks: big or small.

I offer a safe space to discuss your goals and help you create a healthy routine that aligns with your life. Focusing on balance and implementing small habits my hope is that you can reduce feelings of overwhelm and experience increased clarity and calm in your life.

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.

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.

In 1991, I moved to the United States at age five from Russia as a Jewish refugee. I was part of a large wave of Russian Jewish refugees from the Soviet Union, and was one of the only Russians in my class at first. The area, which was predominantly Italian American, suddenly had a Soviet contingent, and some of the locals didn't like it. I was bullied for being Russian. Later in life, I joined the Peace Corps, and they decided to send me to Ukraine. Being a Russian Jew in Ukraine brought its own challenges, and in 2022, when the war with Russia started, I felt a strong need to go and volunteer. But being Russian in Ukraine was even more uncomfortable, and I had to explain myself constantly. I was also questioned by the authorities and even detained. I've been called a Russian spy my entire life. There were times when I wished I had been just born American, and at times I lied about my heritage, but I have since learned that having an outsider's perspective can be powerful.

When my spouse died by suicide, my entire world shattered. The grief wasn't just sadness, it was a complete dismantling of who I was. I became a single parent overnight while drowning in my own pain. I felt so alone. People didn't know what to say, so they said nothing. Or worse, they said things that hurt. I was navigating finances, legal matters, and my children's wellbeing while barely holding myself together. The guilt, the anger, the confusion—it felt too heavy. Now, several years into this journey, I've learned to carry my grief alongside my life. I've found meaning in supporting others walking this devastating path. I know the loneliness of a grief others don't understand. I offer a compassionate, judgment-free space where you can be honest about all of it—the anger, guilt, relief, love, confusion. I won't rush your grief or tell you how you "should" feel. I'll just be here, reminding you that you're not alone and that healing is possible.

I just assumed I'd be a parent. It was as automatic and natural an assumption as the sun would rise and set. When I married, my husband had the same assumption: we'd be parents. But it didn't happen. At first, we didn't try -- but we didn't NOT try either. Then, as time went on, we were more...deliberate. It still didn't happen. It happened for friends and other family. But not us. We watched as others went through their childrearing joys and challenges, with only one another to hold onto. We decided not to get medical fertility intervention, but fully understand the pull towards it. We wanted a kid. We did not get one. Though my husband and I have built a life in which we are happy (most of the time) and fulfilled (as much as we can be), there's always the grief for the child that never was. The answers you give others when they ask if you have children. The comments you overhear. The pang you get. The worry about aging alone. I'm here to see you in and through it. Let's talk.

My life has been a journey through pain, loss, and resilience. I grew up with I felt was an abusive parent and lost another at a young age. I survived a 15-year abusive marriage, faced infertility, and was blessed with twins through IVF. I became a caregiver to my terminally ill spouse and later endured the heartbreak of losing both my spouse and later one of my children who was 24 years old. Alongside these losses, I’ve faced my own health challenges and disability. For years, constant crisis defined my life, and when it finally quieted, I struggled to live what others call a “normal.” life. Through it all, I’ve learned that even in darkness, growth and hope remain possible. I’ve dedicated my career to helping others survive and heal—abused children, sex-trafficking survivors, women in crisis, and parents rebuilding their lives. Life is hard, but you can survive—and thrive.

I’ve lived a full life—with all the ups, downs, sharp turns, and potholes that come with it. I'm a mother of two sons of retirement age: the younger, I'm total estranged from, and it's the same as losing a child; the elder, a practicing alcoholic, is tricky. As a former marriage and family therapist, a caregiver for my dad during his final years, and someone who has fought my own battles with addiction and recovery, I deeply understand being in hard places. My struggles were relationship acceptance and guilt and shame. I was an inadequate parent and it brought great pain to us all. But I finally sought help. I no longer accept the unrealistic perfect mother model. Once I understood my boundaries, our relationship improved. I stopped listening to abusive complaints. Now we can tell when things are "going south" and we can gracefully withdraw from conflict. Acceptance and boundaries are game changers. They can be for you, too. Let me support and help guide you in this process.

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.

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.

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.