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.

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.

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 am someone who has lived with anxiety for as long as I can remember. In the past, my panic attacks were so overwhelming that I would find myself hyperventilating, feeling trapped in a cycle of fear. These moments used to prevent me from doing what I wanted to do, but over time, I’ve learned how to sit with my anxiety instead of fighting against it. I no longer see it as an enemy I have to push away, but as a part of myself I must work alongside. Problems thrive in the dark, and I believe that when you have someone to confide in, you feel lighter. Now, I want to share what I know about anxiety with others. If you are living with chronic stress or anxiety, you don’t have to go through it alone. Together, we can explore tools and strategies that make life feel more manageable, whether that means building healthier coping mechanisms or simply having a safe place to let it all out. Sometimes what we need most is someone to listen without judgment, to hold space for our struggles so that

When my daughter was 11, she was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. It completely knocked the wind out of me. No one in my family had diabetes, and I had no idea how to manage it. On top of that, she’s also on the autism spectrum and has ADHD. The learning curve was steep, and I often felt like my entire life revolved around her care. I loved her deeply, but I struggled to find me in the process. Over time, I had to learn how to provide love and stability for her while also honoring my own well-being. It meant choosing a different path—one that others didn’t always understand. It’s been lonely at times, but it’s also made me stronger and more compassionate. I want to be here for other parents who feel the weight of it all—to remind you that you’re not alone, and it’s possible to support your child while still taking care of yourself.

There is stress, and then there is "overwhelming, I do not recognize myself, everything irritates me" stress. There came a time when I was going to therapy and learning all of the coping skills, and for some reason, I could not implement them. I finally realized that I was not safe with me and that progress was better than perfection. It took time and apologies to my loved ones and myself for me to realize that I get to choose what works for me in my times of stress, depression, and anxiety. I have enjoyed a variety of things from tapping, reiki, mindfulness, life coaching, a what works list, implementing boundaries, a nervous system reset, and much more. I would love to support you in finding out what works for you when you are triggered, tired, stressed, or feel like giving up. Together we can explore what works for YOU.

For the ones carrying it all but barely holding on. When your days are packed from start to finish, a 3pm Starbucks run still doesn’t cut it, and four hours of sleep feels like your new normal—it’s time to find the culprit. Do you need some YOU time? If you are a parent who's feeling stretched too thin and stuck on autopilot, let’s talk. Maybe you just need to vent about the pressure, hear that your exhaustion isn’t your fault, or finally talk through the weight you’ve been carrying. Maybe you want practical ways to hit reset, carve out time for yourself, or set boundaries that protect your energy without guilt. However you show up, this space is about you—your needs, your voice, and your chance to stop running on empty.

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

I’ve spent way too many nights trying to fall asleep with a brain that insists on replaying that one awkward moment from three years ago or analyzing every possible outcome of a decision I haven’t even made yet. Sound familiar? Overthinking can look like productivity on the outside like you’re being thorough or responsible. But on the inside? It’s often anxiety wearing a clever disguise. It’s fear of failure, fear of regret, fear of what people will think. And it can leave you stuck in loops: what if I mess up? What if I’m too much? What if I’m not enough? I used to think I just needed to “think my way out” of feeling overwhelmed. But that strategy kept me spinning. What actually helped was learning how to name what I was feeling underneath all the thoughts, to pause the mental ping-pong match, and to stop treating myself like a problem to be solved. If your mind is constantly racing, if you’re tired of second-guessing yourself into paralysis, or if you just want someone to help you sort through the noise—I'm your girl.

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.

The pivotal point in my healing journey was when I was hospitalized with suicidal ideation at age 33, and hospitalized again after a suicide attempt at age 35. Along with clinical depression, I struggled with panic attacks and anxiety from complex PTSD as well as ongoing abuse from my toxic family system. I thought I wouldn't live past age 45 until I found support from trauma-focused talk therapy and peers at age 40. Peers understood and believed me about the abuse I survived and were living proof that a different life was possible. This was vital to my healing journey and inspired me to become a Peer Support Specialist. I have spent years in trauma-focused talk therapy, consistently talking with peers, learning coping skills and practicing good self-care. I am now in my 50s. I am happy, and my lifestyle supports good mental and physical health and I have separated myself from the abusive people of my past and have healthy relationships with friends and chosen family.

After I had my baby, I felt like I was supposed to be glowing, full of love, and endlessly grateful. But the truth? I felt like I was falling apart. I was exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. I cried when no one was looking. I felt anxious, overwhelmed, and so ashamed for not feeling what I thought I was “supposed” to feel. I loved my baby. I didn’t love the way I felt inside. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. Some days, I didn’t even recognize the person staring back in the mirror. The guilt, the fear, the pressure to hold it all together. I kept pretending I was fine, while quietly unraveling. Eventually, I cracked. And that’s when the healing started, not by being “strong” but by being honest. I started talking to other moms who had been through it. They didn’t judge me. They just nodded, held space, and let me cry. And that was everything. Postpartum is hard. Being a mother is beautiful, yes, but it can also be lonely, messy, and heartbreaking. And if you’re in that place right now, I want you to know you’re not broken. You’re not a bad mom. You’re just human and you deserve support.

I can be there for you if you’re battling racing thoughts, panic attacks, or the overwhelming weight of anxiety. I have skills in CBT, ACT, and DBT plus have the challenge of Dissociative Disorder and have both panic attacks and anxiety attacks. I'm here. You don't have to suffer in silence.

I know what it’s like to wake up feeling heavy, stuck, or unsure how you’re going to make it through the day. Living with depression can feel isolating, like no one truly understands what’s going on inside. I’ve been diagnosed with both Bipolar I and Seasonal Affective Disorder, which means I cycle through periods of deep depression and overwhelming lows throughout the year. I’ve had to learn, sometimes the hard way, how to manage these shifts, find small sparks of light in dark seasons, and remind myself that I’m not defined by my diagnosis. If you’re struggling, I want you to know you don’t have to go through it alone. I can sit with you in the heaviness, share what has helped me through my own cycles, and offer a space where you don’t have to hide how hard it feels. Together, we can find ways to create even the smallest sense of relief, stability, and hope—one step at a time.

Depression felt like a constant heavy blanket, this darkness that wouldn't lift. Every day was a struggle just to get out of bed, and the world just seemed so gray. I was in such a dark space just coasting through life on autopilot to the point where i thought about ending things but somewhere deep down, a tiny spark refused to be extinguished. I started to nurture that flicker, little by little, focusing on the things that brought even a hint of joy. Slowly, that spark grew into a flame, pushing back the shadows. With the help of my self will, my kids and wife they guided me through it all with daily reminders of why living is so worth it.

My life has been full of beautiful memories and people. Unfortunately the negative seemed to always out weigh the positive situations in life. As a child my home life wouldn't even be described as a home life. My mother was addicted to anything she could get her hands on and my father was always gone for work. My mother moved us from couch to couch chasing he drugs and fun. I had 3 younger siblings at the time and was just trying to keep us alive. We were always dirty, scared, and hungry. I would do everything I could to keep them from the world my mother took us into. Going to soup kitchens, asking school for extra food to keep for dinner ex... eventually we were taken and placed with our grandparents. When we thought we were going to get relief, a whole new form of turmoil unfoled. Becoming a woman and getting married came with marital problems that I ended up seeking help of council for. Honestly I have lived many lives and learned to cope then the right way to cope.

After years of pushing through exhaustion, it can feel like your creativity has vanished—like the part of you that once lit up with ideas has gone quiet. I know how discouraging it is to stare at a blank page, canvas, or project and feel nothing but emptiness. What I’ve learned is that creativity doesn’t disappear—it just gets buried under stress, fatigue, and self-doubt. With time, rest, and small steps, that spark can return. Sometimes it begins with the simplest things: noticing colors on a walk, journaling a few unfiltered thoughts, or giving yourself permission to create without pressure. Now, I hold space for others who are ready to gently reconnect with their creative side, even if it’s been years since they last felt inspired.

For many years, I thought something was wrong with me. Turns out I was on autopilot just existing and taking care of everyone but myself. Until I woke up and realized it was working for me anymore. I'm a woman who’s been broken and rebuilt more times than I can count. From surviving toxic love, living in survival mode, and rebuilding from rock bottom—my journey has taught me that healing isn’t linear, but it is possible. I created something amazing that turn my pain into purpose and help others glow through what they go through. Faith, grit, and grace have shaped everything I am and actively becoming.

I used to be an enthusiastic and competitive martial artist (MMA, BJJ, and Shotokan karate), and I was looking to go to nationals and be a student athlete in college. About six years ago, at my first training session during college, I injured both my right knee and right elbow, and the six years since have been filled with entirely different mindsets, medical needs, energy levels, and physical capabilities. Since then, I have had numerous medications, an untold number of doctors and Urgent Care visits, two surgeries that ended up not helping much, and a possible diagnosis of HSD (Hypermobility Spectrum Disorder). The sudden switch from being a hyper-independent athlete to needing help just to get food had a large toll on my mental health, especially since I was just moving out and starting college (COVID would start 6 months later). However, these experiences have also helped me understand the importance of community and interdependence, and I've found a voice in disability advocacy.

I am definitely the kind of person who has overly prioritized taking care of others over myself my whole life. While it can feel selfish or shameful to think about our own needs, we can't be there for other people if we are not taking care of ourselves. I kept getting mad at myself for what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of caring for someone a lot and then, over time, them seeing me less as a friend and more as a tool that can be useful. I often played into it myself since I believed people would at least stick around longer if I were useful. This only ended with ruined friendships and toxic relationships. Over time, I've started managing my energy output better and providing high-quality support to people I care about without draining my own reserves. I've learned to set personal boundaries to protect myself and identify whether I am offering something because it's needed or because I'm feeling anxious or insecure about the relationship.