I grew up knowing what it meant to not have enough. Food insecurity was a constant presence—I learned early how to stretch what we had, make things last, and go without. My mother told me I'd grow up to be a doctor or famous author and make the family rich. For a long time, I believed carrying us out of poverty was my responsibility. As I got older, instability followed me. There were times I didn't know where my next meal would come from or whether I'd keep a roof over my head. I've relied on government programs, local aid, and people who showed up when I needed them. I learned to navigate systems that are confusing and often unkind—how to look for resources, ask for help in ten places until one says yes, and keep going even when pride tells you not to. Those experiences taught me resilience that's less about toughness and more about persistence and creativity. I know what it's like to survive instability, and I can help you find your way through it.

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.

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

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 was married for 20 years, but for at least half of that time, my partner was having affairs with people of the same sex. We went through counseling, trying to heal, but I later found out the betrayal had continued behind my back. Going through the end of that marriage while raising two kids was incredibly painful, but it also pushed me to find a strength I didn’t know I had. After a year of being single, I dated again, remarried, and eventually divorced a second time. Each experience, though heartbreaking, led me closer to understanding myself and what I truly want out of life. Today, both of my children are in college, and I’m proud of the compassionate, grounded people they are becoming. I've written a book on raising kids with empathy and now focus on helping others navigate their own transitions. If you’re facing the wreckage of a broken relationship or struggling to rediscover yourself, I would be honored to support you.

As a widowed father of four and grandfather to eleven, I’ve experienced the full spectrum of family life—raising children, watching them grow into parents themselves, and finding ways to stay connected through the inevitable changes life throws at you. After a 42-year marriage, losing my spouse was a profound loss. It taught me the importance of rediscovering who I am as an individual and redefining my role. I understand that parenting today is different from how it was when I was raising my kids. With the pressures of one income not being enough and evolving societal norms, families are facing new challenges. I’ve spent years supporting my children through their own parenting issues and offering a compassionate, nonjudgmental space to navigate these shifts. I’m here to offer a listening ear, to explore possible solutions, and to help you redefine your role in both family and life. Sometimes, all it takes is a thoughtful question or perspective to shift how we view things.

As a widowed father of four and grandfather to eleven, I’ve experienced the full spectrum of family life—raising children, watching them grow into parents themselves, and finding ways to stay connected through the inevitable changes life throws at you. After a 42-year marriage, losing my spouse was a profound loss. It taught me the importance of rediscovering who I am as an individual and redefining my role. I understand that parenting today is different from how it was when I was raising my kids. With the pressures of one income not being enough and evolving societal norms, families are facing new challenges. I’ve spent years supporting my children through their own parenting issues and offering a compassionate, nonjudgmental space to navigate these shifts. I’m here to offer a listening ear, to explore possible solutions, and to help you redefine your role in both family and life. Sometimes, all it takes is a thoughtful question or perspective to shift how we view things.

I’ve faced some heavy mental loads and for years felt like I was trying to connect with people while speaking a different emotional language. It made relationships hard—romantic ones, friendships, even basic conversations at work. I’d either shut down or go all in too fast, and that constant push-pull left me feeling isolated and misunderstood. But over time, and with support, I started to explore my needs and patterns. No two people relate the same way, and there’s no single right way to “do” relationships. Through my work as a Peer Support Specialist, I’ve helped people figure out what healthy connection looks like for them—whether that means setting better boundaries, healing from past hurt, or just figuring out how to express themselves without fear. I believe connection starts with self-understanding, and I love helping people get there. You don’t have to fit a mold to have meaningful relationships. You just need someone who gets it and walks alongside you as you figure it out.

For the ones who feel like they’re walking on eggshells, carrying the weight of someone else’s struggles, and losing themselves in the process. Maybe your partner battles substance abuse, untreated mental health issues, or toxic behaviors that keep you questioning your worth. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself this is the only person who will ever want you, or you’ve stayed because leaving feels impossible—whether for emotional, financial, or safety reasons. Or maybe you’ve already left and the silence feels heavier than the chaos you walked away from. You miss what was good, doubt yourself for leaving, or wonder if you’ll ever feel whole enough for love again. If you’re stuck between fear, grief, and hope for something better, let’s talk. I’ve been in that kind of relationship too—staying longer than I should, leaving, and rebuilding. And I can remind you what I had to learn myself: walking away may feel harder, but it’s always the first step toward peace.

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'm a small-town Colorado librarian, single mom, and suicide loss survivor who's navigated my own share of toxic relationships and narcissistic abuse. I have C-PTSD, and part of that comes from abuse dynamics that took me way too long to recognize and even longer to escape. I know what it's like to question your own reality. To wonder if you're the crazy one. To feel like you're losing your mind while everyone else thinks your abuser is charming. To finally leave and then struggle with the guilt, the trauma bonds, the fear of being "too damaged" now. I'm not a therapist. I'm someone who's been through it, done the work, and come out the other side still standing. I know the difference between what helps and what's just more gaslighting disguised as self-help. If you're recovering from narcissistic abuse - whether you just left, left years ago, or are still trying to figure out if what you experienced was "bad enough" - I'm here for the real talk without the toxic positivity.

I left the religious community I was raised to live and die in. My value of art, expression, and continuing education and personal development as a person in a female body led me to leave religion based in a supreme male God.

As a single mom, I once felt like I had to choose between survival and living beautifully, but over time, I learned how to save $100K while still taking my kids on luxury experiences, trips, and soft life moments. No, I didn't have a 6-figure job either. It wasn’t about restriction; it was about intention. By budgeting wisely, using creative hacks, and shifting my money mindset, I discovered that financial healing is possible without giving up joy. Let me show you it's possible for you too!

Life doesn't always go as planned - it can unravel completely and you have to start over, sometimes again and again. I've moved countries, raised 4 kids while helping 2 with chronic illnesses, lost my husband at 39 (found a new and wonderful partner), built 3 companies (2 failed), and discovered that resilience isn't about staying strong. It's about learning how to fall apart and then keep going. Sometimes you don't want a pep talk; you just want someone who understands that you're tired, scared, and maybe laughing through tears at how ridiculous it all feels. Are you considering a big change or has one surprised you? I can walk with you through the big transitions - end of a relationship, a career change, partner death, big moves, identity shifts, children leaving the nest - and help you find your balance again. Together we'll explore your internal quide, make small steps forward, enjoy moments of relief, and find reasons to believe in the next chapter (it's ok if it's blurry).

Relationships can be both beautiful and painful. Love brings joy, but it can also bring heartbreak, conflict, and uncertainty. I’ve been through my own ups and downs in relationships, and I know how much it helps to have someone to talk to when your heart feels heavy or confused. With me, you’ll have a safe space to share your story, vent your feelings, or sort through what’s really going on. I won’t judge, I’ll just listen, reflect, and support you as you navigate love in all its forms.

For years I lived in survival mode navigating abuse, religious trauma, addiction, financial collapse, chronic illness, and the challenges of raising three children alone, including one who is autistic and nonverbal. My own healing journey taught me how to rebuild from the ground up, create stability in chaos, and reconnect with who I really am. Becoming a certified life coach and energy healing practitioner allowed me to turn that lived experience into guidance that truly helps others. Whether someone is healing from trauma, parenting through overwhelm, facing burnout, or searching for a sense of meaning, I meet them exactly where they are and walk beside them as they take their next step. I know the courage it takes to start over, and I’m here to make sure no one has to do it alone.

I’ve navigated multiple major life transitions — moving across states, pivoting careers, managing health challenges, and building my own business from the ground up. Through those seasons, I’ve learned how to create stability in the midst of uncertainty, honor my capacity, and rebuild my life in ways that feel aligned rather than forced. I bring lived experience, practical tools, and gentle encouragement to help others find their footing during big changes. In our conversation, I’ll provide support, gentle perspective, and encouragement to help you find stability and move forward in a way that feels aligned with who you are. Talk with me about adapting to major life changes with self-trust and resilience ✔ Approaches for moving through career pivots and personal reinvention ✔ Finding stability and clarity during uncertain times ✔ Ways to honor your limits while building a life that feels aligned

When a Category 5 hurricane hit Florida, I lost everything I owned. In just one day, my home, my belongings, and my sense of stability were all gone. What followed were months of uncertainty, moving through 11 different living situations before I found somewhere that felt even remotely safe again. It was disorienting and humbling. I didn’t have a roadmap, only the belief that I had made it this far in life, rising from a small town in West Virginia with no college degree to leading teams, and that I could keep going. The emotional weight of that loss lingered long after the winds died down. Over time, I rebuilt not just my home, but myself. I learned to trust the process, to find peace in instability, and to let creativity, like poetry, help me release what I was holding. Now, I create space for others to explore their own recovery after loss: whether it's through conversation or writing, I offer a judgment-free zone to unpack what it really feels like to start over.

I found out I was adopted at age 10 when a classmate said I didn't look like my parents. My birth certificate had their names, but I found a photo of my (not pregnant) mom in Asia the day I was born. It made sense since I never felt like I fit in with them (or in the wider world). Realizing even the extended family's lies and omissions hurt—keeping up that collectivistic culture. I kept my secret from almost everyone until college. I found my birth mom on AIM and my birth dad a year later through an article online. Unfortunately, I didn't quite fit there either. I'm a bit like a Third Culture Kid, always the odd one out—human first, but everyone tries to fit me into their boxes. Mom was 19 when her mother pressured her to give me up for adoption—a combination of Catholic shame and varying skin tones. I was sad to hear that my mom and her father both wanted to keep me, but I was given up anyway. I was adopted. Trust is difficult, healing is ongoing, and identity is resilient.

As a kid, my therapist told me I forgot I existed. Today, I know I didn't forget, because I never knew in the first place. I spent a long time building an identity I could be comfortable in, only to see it fall apart. So I started over, using everything I could salvage and all the knowledge I gained from my last one, I built something much stronger.