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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

In my early 20s, I began misusing prescription medications, which slowly led me into more destructive substance use that took a heavy toll on my life. Alongside navigating mental health challenges, I searched for healing through many different pathways. I explored various recovery models and therapeutic modalities—taking what helped me and leaving the rest. Over time, I built a personal toolbox that truly supported the parts of me that needed care, not judgment. I’ve been on my recovery journey since 2020, and becoming a peer support specialist was inspired by the incredible people I met in support groups. Building a support system was one of the most life-changing and life-saving parts of my path. Now, I hold space for others to find their own way through chaotic substance use and mental health struggles, with compassion, choice, and hope.

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.

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.

Can't tell you how often I chased a broken idea of self-improvement; trying to eliminate "flaws," and constantly striving for an ideal version of myself that felt out of reach. The more I pushed toward that impossible standard, the more disconnected I felt. But growth isn’t about perfection—it’s about exploration. We evolve not by erasing the parts of us we struggle with, but by understanding them, accepting them, and finding authentic ways to move forward. Philosophy has played a huge role in reshaping how I approach self-development, helping me see life less as a rigid path. It can be hard to navigate the tension between self-acceptance and wanting to grow—breaking free from unrealistic expectations and exploring self-reflection in a way that actually feels fulfilling. If you’ve ever struggled with self-doubt or felt like you’re "not enough," let’s take a step back. It doesn’t have to be about fixing—it can be about understanding and embracing the complexity of who you are.

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.

I grew up in a religious group that controlled every part of my life, even down to how I thought and felt. It wasn’t just spiritual, there was abuse, betrayal, and deep wounds that shaped my sense of self. Leaving that community meant losing my family, friends, and the only life I had ever known. For years, I struggled with isolation, PTSD, and questioning everything I believed in. Through therapy, art therapy, journaling, and connecting with others who had walked similar paths, I began slowly rebuilding who I was outside of those walls. It took time to trust myself again, but today, I live freely, grounded in my own values and dreams. I now support others who are stepping away from controlling environments, helping them navigate grief, find their voice, and believe that life after leaving can be beautiful.

Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, not because I wanted to stay, but because abuse convinces you that you have no way out. It makes you believe that the pain you know is somehow safer than the unknown beyond those doors. Even after I left, staying away was its own battle. The memories, the guilt, the fear, the way hope and hurt blurred together—all of it tried to pull me back. But healing taught me something powerful: freedom is possible. There is life after abuse. There is love, peace, and a version of yourself you thought had been lost forever. It is hard, but it is worth it, and most of all, it is possible. If you are on this journey, hold on. You are braver than you realize, stronger than you know, and your story is not over yet. There is life after abuse, and you don’t have to walk it alone. Book a session with me and let’s take your next step together.

Losing connection with your own worth can feel like losing a part of yourself. Through my lived experience, I know what it’s like to struggle with self-doubt, shame, or feeling “not enough.” Rebuilding self-worth isn’t about becoming someone new—it’s about remembering who you already are. In our time together, I offer: A safe, nonjudgmental space where you can be fully yourself Gentle encouragement to challenge old stories that no longer serve you Support in uncovering your strengths, values, and inner voice Tools and practices to nurture self-compassion and confidence My hope is that you leave our conversations feeling seen, validated, and reminded of your inherent worth. You deserve to take up space, to be kind to yourself, and to know you are enough—just as you are, right here, right now.

I'm taking a leap and putting myself out there , encouraged by close friends and family members that have believed in the advice and support I’ve provided with my heart throughout the years. I’ve lived my life building systems to survive in a world where it felt like my sensitivity didn’t fit. I’m still learning about myself, and relationships, and what the “right” path you’re supposed to follow is that means you’ve figured everything out. Along the way, I’ve connected more deeply with my authentic self, stepped forward in cultivating mutual and fulfilling relationships, and found purpose in simply being present. I believe staying curious about your inner world and that around you, building up your capacity to feel and perceive deeply, and connecting to inner and spiritual wisdom is the foundation for anything you want to accomplish.

I've restarted more than I can count: education, career, marriage and divorce, new dreams and new places. I've gone through tough periods of not knowing where to turn, poverty, disability, grief and parenting. Somehow I have managed to build a life that looks like mine. Not perfect. It's got a little edge. But...it's mine. This came from the lessons I learned trying to earn my worth through productivity, perfection and trying to be the person everyone else needed. The burnout came and I unraveled, which is what I needed. I know what it's like to feel behind, broken and wondering if you'll ever want anything again. Let me meet you there and hold a light next to you. You got this.

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.

As a senior, I’ve witnessed and adapted to six decades of change: from black-and-white TV to color, from rotary phones to FaceTime, and from handwritten letters to instant texts. We’ve gone from walk-in restaurants to delivery apps, and from friendly cashiers to self-checkout and grocery delivery. I’ve seen the first Mac, iPods, and the dawn of online banking and 401(k)s. We now navigate AI, including ChatGPT, and stream live shows—from real music to AI-generated concerts—yet we remain resilient. Through it all, we’ve proven we can keep up, learn, and thrive. As a Warmer Everyday Expert, my offering is about seniors supporting other seniors: sharing wisdom, embracing constant change, and reminding each other that we are strong, adaptable, and ready for whatever comes next. Let’s show that seniors are not just surviving, but actively shaping and thriving in this ever-evolving world.

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.