Healing dosent come all at once , it comes in fragments : naming what happened , feeling what I'd buried and slowly learning that safety could be rebuilt. Being understood became a space where I could be real without being reduced . Now I offer that same space to others , where survival isn't the end of the story, and healing doesn't have to be linear.

Grief has a way of changing you in ways you never expect. When I lost the people and things that meant the most to me, I felt like the world went quiet. The kind of quiet that echoes. I try to fill it with anything - anger, distractions, even denial - but nothing told the ache. Eventually, I realized brief isn't something you "get over." It's something you learn to live with, and if you let it, it can become your greatest teacher. Through my own pain, I found compassion, understanding, and the deeper sense of purpose. The same light I thought I lost was waiting for me to open my heart again. Grief doesn't mean you're broken - it means you love deeply. I'm learning to live again is how we honor that love!

Being single after divorce isn't just about ending a marriage - it's about reclaiming yourself. I've learned that holding on to someone who pulls you down isn't love; it's drowning yourself; a type of elf sabotage. True love doesn't leave bruises or scars, and sometimes the kindest, most loving act is letting go of what keeps you anchored in pain. Through my own experiences I've rediscovered independence, rebuilt self-worth, and learn to trust myself again. I guide others to do the same dash to heal and brace their strength, and move forward with confidence and clarity.

I survived human trafficking, a world built on fear, control, and hate. Escaping wasn't just leaving people behind - it was unlearning the lies about my worth and reclaiming my freedom. Healing meant shedding pain, prejudice, and survival mindsets to see the beauty and diversity and the power and love. I've claimed belonging to groups based purely off of hate for people they don't even know. I've learned the arrogance in hate but also the much needed presence of it in some circumstances which directly affect your well-being. Now, I try to help others do the same really trauma, move past hate, and rediscover the love and light inside them. Your past doesn't define your capacity for love - it can become the source of your strength, growth, and connection.

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.

I have experienced many situations that left me living in what I call "crisis mode," including growing up with an abusive parent, losing a parent suddenly as a teenager, marrying a man who became violent and abusive, and later caring for him through seven years of illness until he passed away. I have faced fertility challenges and, after eight years of trying, was finally successful with IVF and had twins, including seven months on bedrest. Tragically, one of my twins became seriously ill at 16 and battled numerous health issues until she passed away at 24 after a year in the ICU. Throughout all of this, I have navigated my own health challenges and am now disabled.

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.

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.

For LGBTQ+ people and anyone who grew up without safe, supportive parents. I provide the steady, affirming presence you deserved then and still deserve now. Whether you need emotional grounding, a calm adult to talk to, or a sense of belonging during a difficult season, I hold non-judgmental space rooted in lived experience, compassion, and unconditional positive regard. Let my lived experience help guide you through yours.

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.

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.

The holiday season is often portrayed as a time of joy, togetherness and celebration. Maybe for some, but not for all. Are the media’s unrealistic “shoulds” creeping up on you? The Blues could start with the time change, something many are sensitive to: shorter days, having it get dark earlier can result in lowering mood/energy. There could be a tinge of blues or, for some, a stronger dose of sadness, isolation, grief, financial stress, memories of old family conflicts or unresolved issues, and even a sense of inadequacy. While The Blues affect everyone differently, some common signs are feeling anxious or irritable; changes in sleep or appetite; difficulty concentrating; and, lack of motivation to participate in or withdrawing from holiday social interactions (or even thinking about them!). As others start to make plans, I shut down. I’m remembering the “fun people” are no longer with me, I’m aware the usual “trimmings” make me slightly nauseous today. Sound familiar? Join me!

A little over a year ago, I lost my younger brother to substance abuse. Four months later, I lost the love of my life to cancer. My world shattered. It felt like I’d fallen into a deep black hole with no way out. Everything changed, I couldn’t manage daily life without leaning on friends and family, and I had to give myself permission to simply grieve and do nothing for a while. Slowly, day by day, I began to heal. I started putting one foot in front of the other. Through my grief, I discovered lessons from both of them about living fully and authentically. Today, I carry those lessons with me. Living with a deeper sense of gratitude and appreciation for life, love, and the people who walk beside us through it all.

Grief from loss can occur many times throughout our lives. From the loss of a dream or idea to the loss of a parent or spouse, grief can creep into our lives in many different ways. There is no right or wrong way to grieve but talking to someone can be a healthy way to cope when going through all of the ways we can be distressed. I've dealt with everything from the loss of my mother at a younger age after a debilitating illness to the sadness of losing the ability to continue in a career that I very much loved because my body had betrayed me. Loss of relationships has been a common thread throughout my life, from friendships to the closest and most important of all relationships. I've had heartbreak on every level. I've navigated loss of career, relationships, dreams & ideas, loved ones & pets (maybe one of the hardest to cope with!). I've gotten through some situations much quicker & easier than others, finding that going through, rather than around, tends to get me the best outcome.

Navigating a relationship with a partner who has a mental illness can be a complex and emotional journey. As someone who has experienced this firsthand, I understand the unique challenges that can arise, such as dealing with unpredictiable symptoms, understanding your partner's needs, and managing your own emotional well-being. In my own relationship, I learned the importance of empathy, patience, and communication. By educating myself about my partner's condition, I was better able to understand their experiences and support them during difficult times.

Parenting is one of the most beautiful and challenging experiences we ever face. It brings out deep love, fierce protectiveness, and moments of joy that feel almost spiritual. But it also exposes fear, exhaustion, old wounds, self-doubt, and emotions no one talks about. Whether you’re parenting a baby, a toddler, or a growing child, it can feel overwhelming trying to raise someone while you’re still growing yourself. Parenting forces you to confront your triggers, question your upbringing, and break patterns you never asked for. It asks you to show up even when you’re tired, overstimulated, anxious, or unsure. It stretches your identity, tests your patience, and reshapes your entire sense of self. If you’re overwhelmed, struggling with boundaries, navigating big emotions—yours or your child’s—or just trying to be a cycle-breaker in a family that didn’t model healthy love, you’re not alone. I’m here to support you through the real, messy, emotional side of parenting.

Grief changes everything. Losing someone you love can shake your identity, your beliefs, and the way you move through the world. Whether your loss was recent or years ago, sudden or expected, the ache can feel overwhelming and isolating. I understand deep grief from my own experience with stillbirth, family loss, and the quiet heartbreak of missing milestones that will never come. Grief is not linear. It’s waves of sadness, anger, numbness, guilt, love, and longing. Many people don’t know what to say, which can make you feel even more alone. You don’t have to “move on” or be strong for anyone. I offer a compassionate, judgment-free space where you can talk openly about your pain, your memories, and the complex emotions that come with loss. Whether you’re navigating bereavement, heartbreak, trauma, or trying to make sense of life after someone you love is gone, I’m here to sit with you and support your healing.

I started using alcohol at the age of 14 as a way to cope with the grief of losing my grandmother, who was my primary caregiver. With no one to support me, I struggled to deal with the emotions, and my substance use spiraled from alcohol to opioids and cocaine. By the time I was 26, I had lost almost everything—school, jobs, relationships, and my self-respect. I realized I had reached rock bottom and couldn’t continue living that way. My journey to recovery wasn’t immediate. I was in and out of 12-step programs for over a year before I finally entered inpatient treatment and sober living in early 2022. That 30-day program, followed by an additional 30 days in sober living, gave me the stability I desperately needed. Over time, I rebuilt my life—getting a job, saving money, and even enrolling in college. Today, I’m in a healthy, loving relationship that has renewed my faith in myself and in relationships. I now realize that hitting rock bottom wasn’t the only way to change, and I’m committed to helping others recognize the signs of when their current path isn’t working and take steps toward healing before it gets too late.

Throughout my life, I have navigated and experienced life-altering trauma, loss, and grief. I lost my uncle to suicide in 2017, my other uncle in 2021, my grandpa in 2023, and my last uncle unexpectedly in 2025. I know how it feels to be invisible, misunderstood, and alone. If you book a session with me, I hope to be a compassionate and empathetic listener for you. I will cultivate a space for you to process your feelings. I will be there for you as you navigate your own grief/loss. You're not alone. I hope to meet you soon.

Back in 2023, I took care of my grandpa with Alzheimer's/Dementia before he passed away. It has been the greatest honor of my life to care for him in that way, but I know that caregiving can be incredibly exhausting, especially if you're lacking the support you need. It can be incredibly painful and disorienting to watch your loved one forget who you are or even forget parts of their own identity. It's really difficult, and I deeply understand since I've lived through it myself. So, I hope to create a space for you to grieve, express your emotions, and support you in the way that you need. I'm here to talk about how isolating and lonely it can be. You're not alone. I am here to support you on your caretaking journey. I hope to meet you soon.