For a long time, I mistook survival for strength. I stayed in spaces that drained me but ignored my boundaries—where emotional safety was optional and clarity was inconvenient. The more I tolerated, the more I lost sight of myself. Healing didn’t begin with forgiveness—it began with discernment. I had to unlearn the idea that being in toxic situations did not mean being valued. I started asking harder questions: Who benefits from my silence? What does safety actually feel like? Through therapy, spiritual grounding, and radical honesty, I began to reclaim my voice. I learned that healing isn’t always graceful—it’s gritty, disruptive, and deeply personal. Now, I hold space for others who are untangling themselves from toxic dynamics. You don’t have to explain your pain to be worthy of peace. You just have to choose it.

There was a time I looked around and thought, Is it just me? Everyone else seemed to be climbing the ladder, finding their calling, or at least pretending they had a 5-year plan. Meanwhile, I was drowning in a sea of doubt. I had checked off so many boxes. Got the degree, the job, the accolades, but still felt empty. The path I was on didn’t feel like mine. It felt like it was expected from me. Leaving my career in biopharmaceuticals wasn’t a snap decision. It was a slow unraveling. I stayed longer than I should’ve out of fear of failing, of disappointing people, of starting from zero. But eventually, I chose honesty over stability. I admitted to myself that I wanted a life with more meaning, not just more titles. I didn’t have it all figured out, and honestly, I still don’t. But I’ve learned how to sit with uncertainty without letting it paralyze me. I’ve started over. I’ve built new skills. I’ve redefined success on my own terms. And now, I help others do the same. If you feel like you’re stuck in a life that doesn’t reflect who you are anymore or if you're craving change but don't know where to begin you’re not alone. I’ve been there. Let’s talk about what’s holding you back, and what’s possible on the other side.

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.

It has been my experience that while being a wife and a caregiver for a spouse with disabilities and mobility challenges I have had to learn to prioritize my self-care and boundaries and limitations and know when I need to ask for help or call for help because I don't have the strength to pick him up or move him into his wheelchair under my own capacity and need help and that I need to take care of myself in the process

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

Having been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, recurrent moderate, as well as being a man, I understand that our mental health as men is important and should matter to us. I can relate to feelings of anxiety and depression and being reluctant to seek help from a mental health professional.

Living with ADHD is like running a marathon with your shoes tied together. My brain doesn’t move in a straight line. It zigzags, leaps, crashes, and forgets why it entered the room. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been called “lazy,” “scattered,” or “inconsistent.” But the truth is, I’m doing my best in a world that wasn’t built for brains like mine. ADHD isn’t just being distracted. It’s the shame of missed deadlines, the overwhelm of executive dysfunction, the paralysis when you know what to do but can’t do it. It’s the highs of hyperfocus, the lows of burnout, and the constant inner monologue telling you you’re never doing enough. But ADHD isn’t a flaw. It’s a different operating system. And once I stopped trying to force myself into neurotypical molds, I started to find a rhythm that worked for me. It’s still messy. But it’s mine. If you’re feeling misunderstood, exhausted, or ashamed of your scattered mind, I see you.

Life doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath, it barrels through like a freight train, throwing deadlines, people, and chaos at you all at once. I’ve been there, drowning in the noise and pressure, feeling like my brain and body were stuck on overload. Stress isn’t some polite visitor; it’s that relentless storm you can’t switch off. I’ve learned the hard way that trying to push through only burns you out faster. Managing overwhelm means slowing down enough to notice what’s really breaking you, giving yourself permission to say “no” or “not right now,” and finding fierce but gentle ways to survive the madness. No BS, no fake cheerleading, just real talk and space for your tired soul. Come, rest, weary traveller.

Plans are not straightforward for everybody. Some people start off in certain careers and, whether it is life circumstances or personal preference, end up wanting to switch. The pandemic also presented a time for most of us where we had to be comfortable with remote work, and workplace environments are changing drastically still. I started out wanting to go to medical school and was geared towards that in college, but was sidetracked due to my own health issues. And then ended up refocusing my career and healthcare to the mental health space in my 20’s and pursued a Graduate program. I then had to get comfortable with remote work, and also took on many side hustles to make ends meet. I discovered talents and abilities I did not know I had, and also struggled to maintain confidence feeling like I was on a very different path than my peers. Tell me what your career journey has been like, and I would love to talk through and navigate any changes with you.

When life feels heavy, it can be hard to remember that caring for yourself isn’t selfish — it’s survival. Through lived experience and gentle guidance, I offer space to help you reconnect with yourself and learn how to rest, recharge, and rebuild. Here’s how I can support you: Reconnecting to Self – Together, we’ll explore grounding tools and mindful practices that help you feel safe and present in your body again. Creating Sustainable Routines – Learn to build small, compassionate habits that nurture balance and consistency — without pressure or perfection. Gentle Healing & Boundaries – Practice saying yes to yourself. We’ll focus on emotional boundaries, rest, and self-forgiveness as essential parts of healing. Whether you’re moving through burnout, trauma recovery, or simply trying to feel like you again — this space is for you. You deserve to be cared for too

I’ve spent eleven years as a caregiver and know firsthand how overwhelming and lonely it can feel. My journey changed my life in ways I never expected, and every emotion—grief, hope, fatigue, and love—is something I’ve truly felt. If you want someone who gets what you’re going through, I’m here to listen, support, and share. I welcome honest conversation and understand the twists and turns. Caregiving isn’t easy, and you don’t have to face it alone. If you need a caring, relatable person who understands this road, let’s talk. Your story matters and I’m here for you.

I’ve been fired, overlooked, pushed out, and talked down to. I spent 17 years in and out of retail management, leading teams while surviving toxic work environments and people who thrived on intimidation. I know what it feels like to give everything to a job and still be treated as disposable. I’ve had to rebuild my career more than once, start over in new fields, and fight my way back into society when I felt judged, underestimated, or broken. Because of that, I help others navigate job loss, career transitions, leadership challenges, and workplace toxicity. I offer guidance on reclaiming confidence, finding direction again, and stepping into roles where you can actually thrive—not just survive.

I know what it feels like to dream of building something meaningful while battling self-doubt, financial worry, and the isolation of going out on your own. As a single mom, entrepreneur, and coach, I launched my business with limited resources and plenty of imposter syndrome whispering, “Who am I to do this, you don’t have your stuff together to run a business”. Over the years, I’ve navigated uncertainty, shifted from nonprofit and criminal justice work into full-time entrepreneurship. It is not easy but taking it day by day has helped me focus on the here and now. My lived experience has taught me resourcefulness, transparency and the importance of community support. You are not alone in these feelings, don’t let fear of success keep you from your dream.

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.

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.

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'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.

Sobriety truly gave me a second chance at life — but it also meant starting over in ways I never expected. After years of fight or flight, freeze, survival mode, and trauma my confidence was shattered. My work history was full of gaps, or roles I had outgrown. I wasn’t sure where I fit anymore — or if anyone would give me a chance. But I decided I was worth investing in. I explored new paths, took classes, asked questions, and learned how to talk about my past with strength instead of shame. I focused on reskilling — not just professionally, but emotionally and mentally, too. Every step I took helped rebuild the belief that I could contribute, succeed, and even thrive. Whether you’re restarting a career, going back to school, or dreaming about something totally new — I get it. You don’t have to figure it all out at once. I’d love to help you explore what’s next and show you that sobriety is not the end of your potential — it’s the beginning.

Perfectionism was my silent addiction long before I ever picked up a drink. I thought if I could just do better, be better, look better, hold it all together — maybe then I’d finally feel safe, loved, and enough. That’s precisely why I drank and used. But perfectionism is a trap. It tells you that your worth is tied to how flawless you can appear — not how real you allow yourself to be. For years, I tried to outrun my pain by chasing impossible standards. When I couldn’t keep up, alcohol became the escape. And that spiral nearly took me out. In recovery, I had to unlearn everything perfectionism taught me. That mistakes are fatal. That rest is weakness. That vulnerability is failure. It hasn’t been easy — but it’s been freeing. I’m learning to embrace the messy, imperfect parts of myself. To show up as human, not superhuman. And to stop measuring my value by what I accomplish or how I appear. If perfectionism has kept you stuck, anxious, or disconnected from yourself, I’d love to share space with you. Let’s talk about what it means to be real instead of perfect — and how much peace that can bring.

When I graduated from college, I had big dreams but didn’t have a clear idea of how to turn them into a career. I spent years in various jobs, unsure of where I truly belonged, but I kept going because I thought “this was what I was supposed to do.” It wasn’t until I embraced my passions, trusted my instincts, and leaned into my faith that I realized my career wasn’t just a job—it was a calling. I spent time in the TV industry, as a writer, and even as a tennis pro, but I never felt fully fulfilled until I began teaching, coaching, and sharing my story. I know what it feels like to wonder if the dreams you have are even possible, or if you’re just wasting time in the wrong role. But I also know that when you get clear on your purpose and take intentional steps, doors open in ways you didn’t expect. Whether you're about to graduate and need direction, considering a career change, or simply wanting a fresh start in a new season of life, I’d love to help you get clear on your path and discover a future that feels exciting and aligned with your true self.