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 have been out as bisexual and navigating the waters of ethical non-monogamy for over 25 years, came out as specifically polyamorous and got involved in the community 15+ years ago, and was involved in regional poly community leadership for 5 years. I have tried just about every relationship configuration, made all the rookie mistakes and learned from them.

I was married at 17, in part due to an unplanned pregnancy, but that in no way lessens the legitimacy of our commitment. We are still married over 36 years later, with 3 grown, independent, successful, college-educated children. We are extremely committed to our relationship and very comfortable in that commitment. We both maintain a high level of respect, reverence, and admiration for each other in addition to the love and attraction we have shared since our teenage years. We've experienced a great deal of strife, from loss of jobs and income to chronic illness, illness. Even the death of parents and family, along with handling the full range of emotions in raising children. We have moved states away from anyone we knew, successfully reintegrating our kids into a new school system, eventually assisting them into college. I've navigated a relationship through thick and thin, learning to turn into our marriage rather than away to solidify our bond into the tempered steel strength it is today.

I’ve seen how hard it is to walk away from someone you once loved, even when you know the relationship isn’t healthy. One of the most impactful moments in my life was helping a close friend recognize that she was in a toxic relationship. She kept holding on to the rare good moments, second-guessing herself, and rationalizing her partner’s disrespectful behavior. I didn’t push—I just listened, gently asked questions, and helped her see how those patterns were affecting her self-worth. We talked through what healthy love really looks like, and I encouraged her to keep track of what she was experiencing so she could see it more clearly. Over time, she found the clarity and courage to leave. That experience taught me how deeply we crave connection—even when it hurts—and how valuable it is to have someone by your side while you figure things out.

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 was in a toxic relationship for 14 long years where poor communication and emotional abuse became a daily struggle. I often found myself trapped in codependence, unable to see the damage until it was almost too late. Gradually, I learned that I deserved better and began the hard work of reclaiming my self-worth. Therapy, group meetings, and self-help books opened my eyes to a life beyond constant hurt. I made the brave decision to move across the country, leaving behind the patterns that held me captive. Each step forward was a mix of pain and growth, and the scars of manipulation took time to heal. At the same time, I navigated other major life challenges, including being an organ transplant recipient and caring for my aging parents. Today, I share my journey to help others find the strength to break free from toxic cycles. I want to offer practical advice, empathy, and a reminder that healing is possible.

I spent my younger life wondering why it felt I was missing a key piece of myself and unable to fit in with people around me. Turned out, in my case, this was partly due to a void in my life of not having a father. For some people that doesn't seem to matter, but for me, it was a key piece of how I interacted with others. As I began to discover myself through therapy, I learned I could easily feel perspectives of other people's circumstances. You know the phrase "Put yourself in my shoes?" Well, I feel that I literally can. In fact, my friends were often discussing their problems with me. They said I listened well and asked questions that helped them see their situation from new angles. My own life experiences are varied enough now to offer a wide span of perspectives. From growing up without a father to marrying someone who didn't speak English to restarting my career several times, I'm a well-rounded, emotionally intelligent, active listening, empathetic soul. Communication is key.

Over a span of 30 years, I encountered cultural differences with 3 different partners. Each partnership faced both internal and external cultural bias, stigmas, and discrimination based on societal stereotypes. I went through cognitive therapy with my husband to learn how to communicate effectively with someone who not only learned English as a second language, but who was holding long-engrained beliefs about our respective countries and societies. We also worked on how to present a united front to outside disruptors, often family and friends bringing in their own bias that stirred the pot of misunderstandings and underlying the need to learn straight-forward communication. Even if your partner is unsure how to, or unwilling to, communicate their own feelings, you can still enhance your own communication style in an open, compassionate manner that exudes respect and honesty to yourself and to them.

In the digital world , bonds form quickly over the Internet. No matter the circumstances surrounding the connection, feelings are still feelings. Our feelings get hurt for any number of reasons, but when the connection begins to feel too strong or feels a little unusual, the connection can become overwhelming. Have you ever been catfished? Have you been scammed by someone impersonating someone else or been suddenly let down by expectations you didn't even realize you had? I was misled in a romantic scam, formed unrealistic bonds with people I never intended to meet in person, and felt intensely connected to the idea of someone who was just a fantasy. I've helped friends pull back from the edge of diving too deeply in an unhealthy digital relationship and helped them reassess and redirect that abundant energy flooding in. I learned to check my own developing emotions and spot red flags. Para social relationships are a consequence of the digital world. Let's talk about it together.

I've always been "plus-sized." Even as a teenager in size 12 jeans, it was still "more than" the other girls my age. Regardless, I had a vibrant single dating life, I had a loving married life, and I had a post-divorce dating life. Throughout it all, I remained plus-sized in clothing, seating, and life in general. I've dated men who accepted me just as I was, men who slapped tortilla chips out of my hands at a restaurant, and men who told me they'd love me more if I just weighed some ideal number in their mind as well as every nuance inbetween. What I learned early on was that their opinion didn't really matter; how I felt about myself is what made the experience what it was. It takes some mindset shaping to reach the "Let Them" stage, but once you've reached it, the view is great.

I've spent the majority of my life figuring out how to move beyond the persistent hopelessness I've felt trying to navigate a world in flux. Whether it was figuring out an effective therapeutic protocol for my CPTSD, going through a breakup with my long-term partner, repositioning myself professionally, repairing family dynamics, or working through unhealthy coping mechanisms, I've had to find my way through the dark night of the soul time and again. It hasn't been easy, but I am continually finding ways to make it more meaningful. For me, the existential struggle isn't just personal. It's also social, ecological, and cosmological. Adopting this holistic lens gives me a sense of ease in an otherwise anxious body. I'm actively working on building healthy social relationships, reconnecting with the living world around me, and developing my capacity to be a more mindful being. Curiosity and creativity are my primary guides for navigating experiences, both pleasant and unpleasant.

As someone who has been in a romantic partnership with a person who is incarcerated, I understsnd the unique set of challenges and emotions that come with this experience. The separation, the communication barriers, and the societal stigma can create an immense strain on both partners and the relationship itself. It's a difficult journey, but you don't have to figure it out all on your own. Together, we'll explore ways to communicate effectively, maintain emotional connection, and care for your mental well-being during these challenging times.

I used to find myself in relationships where I would constantly prioritize others’ needs over my own, always trying to make sure everyone around me was happy, even at the cost of my own well-being. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was caught in a cycle of codependency and people-pleasing. It wasn’t until I started recognizing the unhealthy patterns in my relationships that I began to see how much they were holding me back. This realization came slowly. I started working on myself, breaking free from toxic environments and relationships, and focusing on the life I wanted to build. I found that understanding my own attachment style and learning about healthy boundaries helped me stop falling into those old patterns. I became aware of what was destructive—both in my romantic and platonic relationships—and made healthier choices for myself and those around me. I’ve experienced these challenges firsthand and, through a lot of hard work and self-discovery, I’ve learned how to create and maintain stronger, healthier relationships. I’m now in a place where I don’t rely on unhealthy attachments or behaviors to define my relationships. I can see myself and others more clearly, and I want to help anyone who is struggling with the same issues.

I am dedicated to helping couples and families strengthen their relationships, drawing on her experience as a military spouse. She guides partners in building trust, improving communication, navigating separation, evolving marriages, and transitioning through divorce. Her mission is to create resilient, connected relationships where love, understanding, and growth thrive—even through life’s toughest challenges

I didn’t grow up in safety—I grew up surviving systems that were never designed to hold me. I was a foster youth, raised without a reliable mirror, without the language for my pain, without the certainty that I belonged anywhere. And yet—somewhere deep within—I always believed I was meant to become somebody. Not somebody famous, not somebody praised, but somebody whole. That belief carried me through institutions, loss, abandonment, and the kind of betrayal that teaches you to disappear yourself just to stay close to love. I went on to become an author, speaker, Executive Coach, and Senior Teacher at the Hoffman Institute—where I later created one of the first BIPOC-centered emotional healing modalities in that organization’s 50+ year history. But before any of those titles, I was just a girl trying to find her way back to her own name. What I bring to others now isn’t just training. It’s hard-won insight. I know what it’s like to feel emotionally homeless. Let's just start here.

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.

After five years of celibacy and deep self-reflection, I re-entered the dating world only to realize healing is not a one-time destination, but it’s a continual journey. I had to unlearn patterns, recognize my attraction to emotionally unavailable partners, and slowly open myself up to love again without losing myself. What I discovered is that healed dating is about discernment, boundaries, and emotional safety. It’s about recognizing your worth, refusing to settle, and creating the type of love you once thought you couldn’t have. I look forward to helping you navigate the same space.

For years, I confused avoidance with independence. I thought shutting down, not needing anyone, and pushing people away meant I was strong but it wasn't until years of therapy and some self-awareness I realized I was just afraid. I was afraid of being abandoned, and truly afraid of being seen. After healing my avoidance, I soon found myself becoming anxious in dating and picking avoidant partners. Dating avoidant partners felt safe because they never required vulnerability, but it also kept me stuck in surface-level relationships. Through therapy, journaling, and a lot of self-work, I faced my fears and learned that true strength is letting yourself be loved. I can confidently say that I have kicked the avoidant & anxious attachment styles. If you're one of these (scared to get close to others, or always afraid or anxious that those close to you are going to eventually pull away), or just need some insight on the two. Let's chat!

Before finding my husband, I dated around in NYC for ten years. He was different from the guys I usually went for, but our conversations were seamless. After the first date I knew all the years of figuring it out had been worth it. I understand first hand how difficult dating to find love can be, especially in a city where there are so many options to choose from. Despite it all, I never gave up on finding my person and learned so much about myself along the way. Dating to find love requires an incredible amount of vulnerability and self reflection. In our modern age many people are giving up and resorting to AI companions, but what this does is further the loneliness epidemic and sabotage our emotional capacity. Love is finding someone to challenge you and help you grow, as you reciprocate the same to them. By holding tight to your own beliefs and only welcoming people(or bots) into your life that validate that, we are robbing ourselves of deeper connection and understanding.

Dating in your 40s or 50s can feel like stepping into a foreign country—especially if it’s been a while. The rules have changed, the apps are confusing, and you may wonder if it’s even worth trying again. I’ve been there. After years of marriage, I re-entered the dating world feeling unsure, vulnerable, and honestly, a little lost. But with time, reflection, and support, I learned how to show up confidently, spot red flags early, and stay true to what really matters to me. If you're trying to date again without losing yourself in the process, I can help you navigate it all with wisdom and heart.