Life has taken me through many chapters: raising three young men (two of whom are neurodivergent), navigating a 20-year career as a special education teacher, surviving toxic, narcissistic relationships, and rebuilding after divorce. Along the way, I learned the importance of setting boundaries, choosing self-love, and letting go of habits that no longer served me—including a complicated relationship with alcohol. The journey hasn’t been easy, but it’s made me passionate about helping others find their voice, their peace, and their power again. Today, I live a nomadic life focused on healing, authenticity, and supporting others through their toughest seasons. I'm here to meet you exactly where you are—and to remind you that your healing is possible.

Becoming a parent completely shifted my world. Before my son was born, I was just living life moment-to-moment, but parenting pushed me to grow in ways I hadn’t imagined. Diagnosed as autistic in adulthood, I had to learn how to advocate not just for myself but also for my child, who is autistic and has ADHD. Our journey hasn’t always been smooth, especially when navigating systems or other adults who had negative views about neurodivergency. I’ve learned to set aside traditional expectations and instead celebrate my son’s unique way of being in the world. Through our gentle parenting approach, I’ve developed strategies for communication, collaboration, and skill-building that respect both of our needs. Parenting helped me find my voice and deepen my empathy, both for myself and others. I know how isolating and overwhelming this path can feel, and I’m here to offer support, validation, and real-world tools to anyone walking a similar journey.

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.

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.

I am a recovering perfectionist. "Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." I have worn many hats throughout my life. I've naviagted different jobs and roles, different social circles and identities, all with their own language, expectations, rewards, and costs. Most recently, I have been dealing with the reality of my divorce, and reflecting on the things I wish I could've done differently. I've been thinking of my children's wellbeing nonstop and my own stability and happiness. When this all started, a friend said to me, "Don't let this change who you are." (Of course he meant all the good stuff.) I am deeply grateful for the support I've recieved. It has sustained and recentered me through this tough time. I feel called to do similar for others.

I became a parent while finishing graduate school, balancing a newborn, academic demands, and a move to Alaska all at once. As my daughter grew, I learned to navigate her ADHD and later, the major emotional hurdles that came with her Long Covid diagnosis. At the same time, I was working through profound changes in my own life—struggling in my marriage, recognizing my identity as a gay woman, and healing after a suicide attempt in 2017. Therapy became a lifeline, helping me rediscover my authentic self, leave my marriage on good terms, and eventually build a healthy new marriage based on communication and mutual understanding. Now, as a longtime educator, a parent, and someone who has rebuilt a full, genuine life, I’m passionate about helping others work through parenting stress, relationship transitions, identity discovery, and emotional healing.

I became a parent while finishing graduate school, balancing a newborn, academic demands, and a move to Alaska all at once. As my daughter grew, I learned to navigate her ADHD and later, the major emotional hurdles that came with her Long Covid diagnosis. At the same time, I was working through profound changes in my own life—struggling in my marriage, recognizing my identity as a gay woman, and healing after a suicide attempt in 2017. Therapy became a lifeline, helping me rediscover my authentic self, leave my marriage on good terms, and eventually build a healthy new marriage based on communication and mutual understanding. Now, as a longtime educator, a parent, and someone who has rebuilt a full, genuine life, I’m passionate about helping others work through parenting stress, relationship transitions, identity discovery, and emotional healing.

Healing while still being someone’s safe place is hard. I can help you find balance, self-compassion, and moments of calm in the chaos. My youngest and I survived domestic violence and are thriving now. My goal is to help you feel validated, calmer, and more capable of taking the next small step forward. Let our journey help lead you.

I’ll help you see what’s beneath the behaviors, the sensory needs, communication styles, and emotional cues that often get misread. So many parents wonder if they missed something or did something wrong. I’ll help you release that guilt and focus on what’s right now, connection and progress. How? Becasue I did these things with my own three children. I have been where you are.

I spent several holiday seasons rebuilding my life after domestic violence and isolation. Creating new traditions taught me resilience and joy — and now I offer support to anyone navigating this season feeling alone or overwhelmed.

When my middle child came out as pansexual and non-binary, I realized my role wasn’t to have the perfect answers but to offer the safest possible space. Our home became the place where my children’s friends could quietly come out, test pronouns, or simply exist without fear of judgment. Over the years, I learned that compassion isn’t about having a script — it’s about listening, believing, and loving first. Being that safe place for young people who didn’t have one has been one of the greatest honors of my life.

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.

Parenting is hard enough...try doing it while neurodivergent, or raising a kid whose brain works differently. I know what it’s like to juggle meltdowns, missed routines, and the guilt that you’re “not doing it right.” I’ve navigated the overwhelm, the school meetings, the days when you’re masking for your kid and for yourself. Whether you’re ND, your child is, or both: let’s talk honestly about what works, what doesn’t, and how to survive (and sometimes even enjoy) this wild ride. No judgment, no perfect parent act only real talk and support. It's hard and I will not tell you it isn't, but I'll make sure you know you're not a bad parent!

For years, I kept showing up to family holidays because that's what you're "supposed" to do. Every single time, I'd leave stressed, angry, and completely drained. When I finally quit going, the hardest thing was everyone else's reactions. The questions. The pressure. The assumption that family always means reconciliation, especially during the holidays. People would say things like "but it's Christmas" or "life's too short" without understanding that my life was much more peaceful not participating. I had to learn that estrangement isn't about anger or punishment. It's about protecting your peace. Now, I've built my own holiday traditions that actually fill me up instead of emptying me out. I know how isolating it feels when everyone around you is posting family photos and you're fielding questions about why you're not "going home." I've learned how to hold my ground when the pressure peaks, and can help you do the same.

Everyone thought I had the coolest life growing up. Working music festivals, creative parents, experiences most kids never got. From the outside, everything looked unconventional in an enviable way. But that gap between perception and reality was suffocating. When your life looks perfect to everyone else, setting boundaries feels impossible. People don't understand why you'd need distance from parents who seem so "cool." They minimize what you're experiencing because it doesn't match what they see. I spent years exhausted, trying to make the outside match the inside or vice versa. Learning to set boundaries meant accepting that other people's perception of my family had nothing to do with my actual experience. It meant letting go of managing how things looked and finally honoring how things felt. The more perfect something appears, the harder it is to admit it's not working. I can help you start telling the truth, even when no one else sees what you see.

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.

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.

Just like the title says: Sometimes the holidays suck. Family lives far away. Or spending time with your family sends your body straight into fight or flight. It's not fair to you or your well-being. I have spent nearly 20 years carefully cultivating holidays that feel good to me, regardless of what my family wants. Whether its the day of the holiday or the emotional hangover we all know the days following, I'm here to listen to what YOU want from your holidays. And how you'd make it the best holiday. I'm here to help you build the holiday that YOU deserve.

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.

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.