For years, I moved through faith spaces feeling both seen and silenced - adopted by doctrine but disconnected from my own spirit . My spiritual awakening wasn't gentle, it was a rupture. What followed was a reclamation of voice , boundaries and divine connection. Now, I hold space for others navigating spiritual warfare, religious experiences and the quiet ache of disembodiment. This offering is for those ready to re-enter their sacredness on their own terms.

I’ve spent years learning how to navigate the chaos of life without letting stress take over. Between work, side projects, travel, and personal growth, I’ve experienced firsthand how overwhelming it can feel when time and priorities feel out of control. Over time, I’ve discovered practical strategies, mindset shifts, and daily habits that help me stay balanced, focused, and productive—even during life’s busiest seasons. Now, I help others do the same. I guide people to manage their time more effectively, reduce stress, and create routines that support both their goals and well-being. My approach is about finding what truly works for you, cutting through the overwhelm, and reclaiming your days. After working with me, people often feel calmer, more in control, and empowered to handle their responsibilities with clarity and confidence, leaving room for both productivity and the things they love most in life.

My zany family of 4 has unique challenges that we navigate together with love, compassion and a lot of laughter. I have two daughter’s with their own learning challenges, and identity questions. My husband and I try to guide them from our different life perspectives. We are an inter faith, Inter racial, and mixed orientation couple. We feel that open communication as a family has been our greatest strength. As a family we have moved overseas and enjoy traveling together. If you need a person to help you navigate moving with your family, or strengthening your bonds through adversity, I would love to chat!

I've lived through parenting and caregiving from many angles. I grew up in a blended family where I often helped care for younger kids. I was raised by a single mother who leaned on a circle of other single moms for survival. And for the past seven years, I've been co-parenting a neurodivergent child with high needs who we saw through some very tough years and is in high school. Parenting means trying to get through turbulence with grace and compassion, and I've learned that the right support and community can transform the chaos into something bearable--- and even make it possible for you to more consistently connect with joy! I can help you find steadiness as you move through the ups and downs of parenting and help you focus on the unique joys your relationship with your child (including adult children) brings to your life.

I wasn’t really able to get to the bottom of my healing process until I started to connect my shortcomings to things I had experienced in the past. Whether it was my need to control everything around me or my tendency to dissociate in stressful situations, once I realized the events in my life that caused this conditioning, I was able to change the framework in my brain in order to approach situations in a more productive way. Trauma continuously happens throughout your life, and if left unaddressed can further deteriorate your mental health as you age. The good news, however, is that once you get a grasp on your past traumas, you become much more aware of traumas as they happen. Eventually, this leads to the harmonious practice of mindfulness - basically addressing and processing emotions as they happen so that they don't accumulate and leave you feeling stuck.

I've battled knowing who i am for a long time, and after years of continuing to work on myself i found skills that have helped me to be more readily willing to share and open up, and to know and believe in my self worth and to overcome negative self talk and feelings of unworthiness, and feeling unloved, and ashamed. i found the strength to see myself for who i am through my own eyes instead of the eyes of others.

This is a story I won't fully disclose due to its complexity. However, I will tell you just enough so that you may understand that I understand the feelings of betrayal, desperation, and panic as you watch your most important relationship detonate before your eyes. I loved this man with all my heart, all my being. And I would have done anything to have him feel the same intensity of love in return. Sure, we were engaged... until the day that should have been our wedding. On Valentine's day of 2018, I awoke to the text from my fiance saying that the wedding was called off. This was due to an incident that had happened between us the night before. I won't go into all the details here; this is a very long, complex story. The only other thing I'd like to say about this particular incident is that when I returned to our apartment that evening after he had told me that I needed to make arrangements to find another place to stay, I found him in our bedroom, throwing my clothes into a trash bag as a woman stood watching. That was a punch to my gut. Then, she spoke. (I'm legally blind, so I was able to see that the person standing beside my fiance was a woman, but I couldn't tell who she was.) But then she spoke. And I knew who she was. And it was another punch to the gut. On what should have been our wedding night, I had to load most of my belongings into a car, and shortly after, I had to be separated from my cat because she couldn't go where I was going. I understand. I understand how it feels to be punched in the gut so hard that you feel like you can't ever get back up. I understand feeling like you'd do anything, anything at all to change your circumstances. I know betrayal. I know confusion. I know abandonment. And if you're going through the same thing, I'd like to be there to walk alongside you through it.

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.

I know what it’s like to wake up feeling heavy, stuck, or unsure how you’re going to make it through the day. Living with depression can feel isolating, like no one truly understands what’s going on inside. I’ve been diagnosed with both Bipolar I and Seasonal Affective Disorder, which means I cycle through periods of deep depression and overwhelming lows throughout the year. I’ve had to learn, sometimes the hard way, how to manage these shifts, find small sparks of light in dark seasons, and remind myself that I’m not defined by my diagnosis. If you’re struggling, I want you to know you don’t have to go through it alone. I can sit with you in the heaviness, share what has helped me through my own cycles, and offer a space where you don’t have to hide how hard it feels. Together, we can find ways to create even the smallest sense of relief, stability, and hope—one step at a time.

For the parents doing double-duty and still wondering if it’s enough. When you’re raising kids on your own, it’s easy to feel like there needs to be more—more time, more opportunities, more money for the extras that other families seem to have. You pour yourself into providing the best you can, but carrying the weight of two people can make even your best feel like it falls short. Do you feel like no matter what you do, it never measures up? If you’re a solo parent exhausted from giving it all and still questioning if you’re failing, let’s talk. Maybe you just need space to admit the guilt and pressure you’ve been holding. Maybe you want to release the shame of not having a partner, or talk about the fear that you’ll never feel “whole” enough for love again. However you show up, I get it—I’ve had those same doubts as a solo mom, and we can work through them together.

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.

I was married when my husband told me he should have been a woman. That revelation cracked open everything I thought I knew—about my marriage, my sexuality, and my worth as a woman. I questioned my desirability, my femininity, and whether my needs even mattered. I attempted to go along with this change for about a year but divorce was the end result. I walked through a storm of emotions that most people never talk about. It's affected me in surprising and lasting ways. I'm very liberal and have many trans and queer friends but having my partner want that within our relationship was really something I never thought i'd have to navigate. More then anything tho, i yearned to find someone who had gone through what i was going thru. It was incredibly isolating.

I’m an introvert who grew up in a family of introverts. I had no childhood friends because of homework and music lessons. A divorce and estrangement from family left me on my own entirely. My adult friendships were few, occasionally satisfying, but contact was sporadic. After retiring, I relocated to an area where I knew no one. Although now eager for connection, I had few social skills, and my initial efforts were fraught with unrealistic expectations in a closed community culture. It took a while, but I’ve turned the corner. A few deep friendships, a weekly Friday afternoon social group at my house, volunteer activities and counseling made the difference. It’s not an overnight solution, but I’m proof that a satisfactory, joyful recovery from isolation and loneliness by learning new skills is possible. It requires willingness to expand your comfort zone, persistence, resilience, a growth mind-set and good humor. Join me. Let’s start your journey to connection and healing.

I was severely sick my entire pregnancy, I couldn’t eat without it coming back up, I was dismissed, and told to “well you are pregnant” at my appointments. I had gestational anemia that never went away. My birth was so severe I almost died. No one listened. Afterward, I spiraled into postpartum depression I was already at risk for, & it was the most isolating, guilt-filled time of my life. I didn’t bond with my baby right away. I couldn’t breastfeed. I felt like a failure. If you’re in that place now—or if you’re still pregnant and no one’s taking your pain seriously—I see you. I can help you prepare for appointments, advocate for yourself, and speak the truth when no one else will. I’ll hold space for the postpartum thoughts you’re too afraid to say out loud—the ones that feel shameful, confusing, or make you question if you’re a good mom. You’re not broken. You’re not alone. And here’s a secret if you are worried and thinking “I’m a bad mom” that alone tells me, you are a good mom.

I’m a queer, nonbinary person who’s wrestled with faith, identity, and belonging. I know what it’s like to feel torn between who you are and what you were taught about God. This space is for LGBTQIA+ folks navigating religious trauma, spiritual deconstruction, or simply trying to believe in something again—on their own terms. Whether you’re grieving a lost tradition, reclaiming sacred practices, or asking if you’re still beloved, you don’t have to figure it out alone. We'll sit with questions, hold what hurts, and make room for a faith that honors all of you. No judgment. No pressure. Just space to be sacred and whole.

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.

I can be there for you if you’re going through a spiritual awakening, questioning your beliefs, or feeling lost between old ways and new truths. I have all psychic abilities and talk to spirit across the veil. You're not crazy, you're sensitive. I'm here for you.

The pandemic disrupted more than routines - it reshaped identities , relationships and the way many of us relate to our bodies, boundaries and beliefs . For me COVID-19 wasn't just a global event; it was a personal reckoning. Isolation bought clarity, loss revealed what was unsustainable . In my own life I had to re-evaluate what safety meant, how I showed up in relationships an what parts of me were worth preserving - not just performing, especially during a time of great changes.

Do you ever wish your sibling relationship looked like the ones you see on TV—supportive, loyal, and close—but you’ve accepted it may never be that way? If you’re tired of the hurt and the hope colliding, let’s talk. Maybe you just need space to grieve what the relationship isn’t, or maybe you want to explore ways to protect your peace when family dynamics get messy. I get it—it’s painful to realize you can’t change someone else, but you can change how much control they have over your well-being. For many, siblings aren’t the safe place they hoped for. Maybe you’re just never on the same page, or maybe their behavior makes closeness feel out of reach. Longing for connection that isn’t there is exhausting, and what makes it worse is when family blames you for not trying harder to “fix” things. I’ve lived through sibling disconnect myself, and I know how deep it cuts. That’s why I hold space for these conversations—to remind you that you don’t have to carry that hurt alone.

I’ve lived a full life—with all the ups, downs, sharp turns, and potholes that come with it. I'm a mother of two sons of retirement age: the younger, I'm total estranged from, and it's the same as losing a child; the elder, a practicing alcoholic, is tricky. As a former marriage and family therapist, a caregiver for my dad during his final years, and someone who has fought my own battles with addiction and recovery, I deeply understand being in hard places. My struggles were relationship acceptance and guilt and shame. I was an inadequate parent and it brought great pain to us all. But I finally sought help. I no longer accept the unrealistic perfect mother model. Once I understood my boundaries, our relationship improved. I stopped listening to abusive complaints. Now we can tell when things are "going south" and we can gracefully withdraw from conflict. Acceptance and boundaries are game changers. They can be for you, too. Let me support and help guide you in this process.

Becoming a mother was unexpected, but stepping into the role was a conscious choice, even knowing I would be doing it alone. For the past 6½ years, I’ve raised my son as a solo parent, learning how to carry both the beauty and the burden of parenting without a partner. The early days were especially difficult. I often felt isolated from family, friends, and even society as I confronted the stigmas and the sheer weight of responsibility. Time, resources, and support felt limited, and the emotional load was heavy. But single parenting has also transformed me. I’ve learned to advocate for myself in ways I never did before - at work, in my family, and in my relationships. I’ve made hard decisions that reflect my values, not others’ expectations, and that shift has made me stronger and more focused. In the process, I’ve discovered a deeper love; one that gives me the strength to push through even the most stressful moments. Some of the biggest turning points came when I stopped trying to live up to outside standards of “good parenting.” I took time away to reflect on what I truly wanted from this life and decided to pursue a path that reflected who we are, not what we were told to be. One of those moments came when I saw my son being left out on a school playground. That was when I knew we had to do things differently. Since then, we’ve embraced our unique rhythm as a family. This rhythm is one that includes rituals, values, nature, chosen family, and plenty of honesty. I’ve learned that single parenting doesn’t have to mean doing everything alone - it can mean doing it intentionally, and together.

I spent years in and out of jail, living on the streets, and using just about every substance you can imagine. But on October 2nd, over two and a half years ago, I got clean—and I haven’t looked back. With four kids and an incredibly supportive partner of 11 years who stuck with me through the worst, I made a decision to dedicate my life to helping others like me. Because when you’ve lived it, you know how alone it can feel. Now, I’m a Certified Recovery Peer Specialist and Opioid Prevention Specialist, and I run a relapse prevention support group where I connect with people going through the same struggles I faced. I also work with incarcerated individuals through NAMI, offering peer support because I’ve been where they are. Sometimes, I even stop and talk to strangers on the street if I sense they’re hurting—because you never know when a conversation might be the lifeline someone needs.

When I moved from India to Vancouver, BC, there were moments when the quiet felt too loud—when the absence of familiar faces, languages, and places settled into my bones. I missed home in ways I couldn’t explain. Even surrounded by people, I felt alone. The smell of food, the sound of a song, or a festival passing by without loved ones would trigger waves of homesickness. I realized I wasn’t just missing a place—I was missing connection, belonging, and pieces of myself. Slowly, I began finding new ways to anchor—rituals that reminded me of home, small routines that made the unfamiliar feel safe. You don’t have to silence your longing to move forward. There’s space for both healing and holding on.

Living with over 25+ years of TWO invisible chronic illnesses has been a test of both my body and my mental health and spirit. For years, I felt dismissed and gaslit by doctors, misunderstood by those around me, and unheard in a world that often overlooks the complexity of invisible illness. My symptoms were real, but the support was not — and that left me feeling isolated, defeated, and at times, hopeless. But I made a choice: I would become my own best advocate. I researched, I asked hard questions, I pushed back when I was minimized, and I refused to give up on myself. I learned to listen to my body, to speak up in medical appointments, and to build a team that believed me. Balancing these health challenges while parenting, healing from trauma, and staying sober wasn’t easy — but it taught me what true strength looks like. I’ve faced discouragement, flares, and fear. But I’ve also discovered peace through acceptance, connection, and even joy within the struggle. If you’re dealing with chronic illness and feeling unheard, burned out, or alone, I want you to know that you matter. You deserve care, compassion, and hope — and together, we can talk about how to fight for it.

I was working on first a Masters, and then a Doctorate in mathematics when my first two daughters were born. Then when I got my first full time job, I gave birth to my son shortly afterwards. I only took a week to recover from labor with each of my daughters so that I didn’t get behind on my grad school classes. I also wasn’t willing to sacrifice my ability to breastfeed my little ones, so I either met up with my husband in between classes to feed my babies, or I learned to pump while at work. I understand the exhaustion that comes with having newborns and still working hard every day. Because of sleepless nights getting up to take care of a crying child, I fell asleep in class a few times, but I learned to lean on other people to help support me through this difficult time. I also learned a lot of tricks for working with a baby in my arms or in a seat nearby. My kids are all older now, my youngest is 5 years old, but I have a thriving career.

I’ve been through a lot when it comes to love, loss, and the complicated relationships that shape us. From watching my parents’ divorce reshape my childhood to losing a boyfriend in college to addiction, I’ve had to learn how to heal without shutting down. That journey led me to therapy, which helped me redefine boundaries and understand what healthy love looks like. I've also had to take an honest look at other relationships in my life—especially with my dad—and decide what I needed to step away from in order to grow. I've cut back on drinking, built a life I love in NYC, and found joy again through friendships, movement, and self-reflection. If you’re navigating heartbreak, rethinking your past, or simply feeling lost, I’d love to hold space for you. Whether it’s a bad breakup, family issues, or you're just tired of pretending everything's okay—I’ve been there, and I promise you’re not alone.

When I moved to a new city, I thought it would be exciting—but pretty quickly, the isolation set in. I didn’t know anyone, and I found myself unsure of how to meet people outside of work. I struggled with feeling disconnected and sometimes questioned if I’d made the right decision. It took effort, intention, and vulnerability to put myself out there. I leaned into networking—both professionally and socially—and slowly began building genuine connections. Along the way, I learned how to boost my confidence, show up authentically, and trust the process of forming new relationships. Now, as a certified life coach, I help others do the same. Whether you're facing a big transition or just craving stronger relationships, I’m here to help you build the connections you need to thrive.

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.

From October 2020 to September 2021, I was unemployed and navigating a really tough job market. To stay afloat during that time, I tapped into the gig economy and explored side hustles. I started with Shipt deliveries, then leveraged connections from college to land freelance work in PR and copywriting. Once I landed a full-time job in September 2021, I stepped back from side hustles to focus on my new role. But when I was unexpectedly laid off again (and then re-hired a week later), I jumped back in. I began freelancing in social media for a skincare brand—work I kept doing for a full year, even while transitioning into my current job in May 2023. These days, I also post my own skincare content online, which lets me combine a personal passion with creative work. I’ve learned that side hustles can be a powerful way to make progress toward your financial goals (whether it’s saving for a car, building an emergency fund, or just having extra money for travel or fun purchases). They can also be an outlet for creativity and personal interests that your full-time job doesn’t fulfill. While side hustles can be great, balancing everything takes strategy, boundaries, and self-awareness to avoid burnout. I’d love to help others find that balance and build side income in a way that feels sustainable.

Because I get it. I’ve been through the dark nights of fear, doubt, illness, and overwhelm. I know how it feels to hit rock bottom-and how powerful it is to rise.. I’m someone who has walked through the fire and come out stronger. After facing a life-threatening health scare, rebuilding my life, healing relationships, overcoming anxiety, and making powerful changes in my health and habits, I’ve learned what it takes to create lasting transformation from the inside out.

For me, meeting new people and making friends hasn’t always come easy. I’ve had times where I felt anxious walking into a room, worried about saying the wrong thing, or wondering if I even belonged. There have been seasons of loneliness where I wanted connection but didn’t know how to start—or where past hurts made it hard to trust new people. In this session, I’ll share openly about my own challenges with friendship and the lessons I’ve learned along the way. This isn’t about having it all figured out—it’s about creating a safe space to talk about how hard it can be and to support each other in the process.

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.

Everyone said certain health challenges that started in graduate school would go away once I left the stressful environment. But they were here to stay. While peers spend their vacation leave and money on trips, I spend my sick leave and funds on doctor's appointments and interventions - all while managing conditions and treatments discreetly for co-occurring conditions. If you struggle with sleep, pain, anxiety, or GI issues - as well as as "gymtimidation," or having to choose sneakers over cute heels - I'm here for you.

For a period of my life, I experienced homelessness, and it reshaped the way I view resilience, self-worth, and stability. I know the exhaustion of not having a safe place to rest and the emotional weight of trying to survive while still holding onto hope. Over time, I learned to build strength in small steps—finding safe spaces, accessing resources, and creating a vision for something better. Now, I share that experience to help others who may feel overlooked or defeated. I understand how important it is to feel heard without judgment, and I know firsthand that progress doesn’t happen overnight—it comes from patience, persistence, and having someone who believes in you along the way. My goal is to be that steady support, reminding others that homelessness does not define their worth, and that it is possible to rebuild a life with dignity and peace.

Starting something new always sounds great—until Day 3 hits and suddenly your bed, your snacks, or your scrolling habit wins. I’ve been there. I’ve tried to wake up at 6am like a productive queen, journal like I’m the main character, eat clean, stretch daily, drink enough water to hydrate a cactus—and guess what? I still fell off. Multiple times. (And yes, I still forget to drink water like it’s a full-time job.) What I realized is: I wasn’t lazy or unmotivated. I just needed a witness to my goals. Someone to say, “Hey, didn’t you want to do that thing?” without making me feel like a failure. Someone who could laugh with me and call me in, not out. Now, I’m that person—for myself, and for others. The hype buddy. The accountability partner with good vibes and zero shame. Because sometimes you don’t need a coach—you need someone who gets it when you say, “I just couldn’t today,” but who’ll still nudge you tomorrow. If you’re trying to start (or re-start) a habit and your willpower keeps ghosting you, I’m here. Let’s talk about what you’re building—and build it together, one non-judgy check-in at a time.

I am the mother of a 20-year-old son and a 16-year-old daughter. And I have been through it all. Moving to a new state when my kids were 14 and 10, navigating a pandemic with teenagers, the pressures of high school life, college applications, gifted programs, peer pressure, driving, relationship issues… as well as all the adolescent obstacles that came before. As a stay at home mom, the pressure has always been on me to do everything— make lunches, volunteer at school, coach sports teams, drive them everywhere… and now I am at the stage where I am needed less physically, but the emotional and financial burdens are more prevalent. One of my kids is also part of the LGBTQ community, so I also have experience supporting and being involved in social justice advocacy on behalf of my child. No one gets a handbook when they become a parent, and none of us can do this alone… but together with support and advice given from learned experience, we can make this world a better place for our kids

For a long time, I’d set huge goals and then beat myself up when I didn’t reach them. I thought motivation alone would carry me, but when life hit hard, I lost steam, got discouraged, and stopped trying. I didn’t realize I was setting myself up to fail by not having a real plan. When I learned about SMART goals: setting goals that were Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound, it changed everything. I started small. I tracked progress. I let go of the idea that everything had to happen overnight. And slowly, I started seeing real change. I built confidence, momentum, and most importantly, self-trust. If you’ve struggled with staying on track, feeling overwhelmed, or not knowing where to start, let’s talk. Setting goals isn’t just about success. It’s about healing and believing in yourself again. What We Can Talk About Together:

My distaste for botox and cosmetic procedures began when the term ‘preventitive botox’ started floating around in my early twenties. I assumed that I would want to get it some day, but why before I was even showing signs of aging? As I continued on my journey of healing and self acceptance, I learned how predatory the anti-aging industry really is, and how it is all just a marketing scheme to profit off your insecurities. As I approach thirty the self doubt still creeps into my head sometimes that I might look better if I get a couple treatments done. Then I remember the propaganda that I am feeding into, and remind myself that the look of my face changes nothing about who I am as a person. When people with manufactured faces and filters are at the forefront of our social media, we forget what aging actually looks like. People have aged for centuries without quick fixes and cosmetic work, and it is still possible as long as you learn to accept and care for yourself.

Leaving or recovering from a toxic relationship can feel like you’ve lost yourself completely. I know the pain of questioning your worth, doubting your instincts, and carrying the weight of someone else’s manipulation. But I also know it’s possible to rise again. Through my own journey, I learned how to rebuild piece by piece while untangling my voice from theirs, releasing shame, and remembering my own strength. Healing isn’t about pretending it never happened; it’s about reclaiming your power and writing a new story. Now, I help others find that same clarity and courage so they can move forward with confidence, self-trust, and freedom.

Financial stress first hit me hard when I became a single mother. The emotional and physical demands of parenting alone collided with the reality of limited income and rising debt. I often felt paralyzed by the weight of financial insecurity. It wasn’t just the logistics of paying bills—it was the feeling of being trapped, of falling behind while others moved forward, and of constantly being reminded of childhood poverty I had hoped to leave behind. At my lowest, debt felt like an 800-pound gorilla sitting on my chest. I shrank in social circles where others had more financial stability, and struggled to feel like I belonged. But over time, I began to face things head-on. I made one small step each day—checking my bank account, making hard phone calls, asking for help. I learned that the fear of doing something was often far worse than the task itself. Though financial stress still lingers, my mindset has shifted. Even though it can still feel hard, I’ve seen my own strength in action. I now understand that money doesn’t define me—my values, my efforts, and my love for my child do. That clarity allows me to move through challenges with more grace, confidence, and self-worth.

As a parent of a special needs child, I understand the love, challenges, and burnout that come with caregiving. It can feel so very isolating to constantly advocate, juggle appointments, and be 'on' while trying to do all the things for your family and yourself. I know the overwhelm, the stress, and the guilt that can creep in when you realize how heavy it all is to carry. Over time, I've learned the importance of small, but essential self-care, ways to find balance, and remembering that we are more than just caregivers. If you need someone who truly gets the highs and lows of this journey, I'm here to listen-whether you want to vent, process, or share whats on your heart. I'm here, I understand.

Whether you're new to dating, feeling stuck, or trying to rediscover yourself in the process, I’m here to listen and help you find your way. For most of my life, I didn’t really know what it meant to date in a healthy, intentional way. For a long time, I placed a lot of my self-worth in being chosen or loved back, especially after falling hard for a friend who didn’t feel the same. That experience shook my confidence, and I spent years trying to prove my value through relationships.—things that deeply affected how I viewed myself and interacted with others. I started dating in this day and age and with each one, I learned something new about what I really wanted, how to communicate my boundaries, and how to feel whole no matter the outcome. I realized I didn’t need to mold myself to be who someone else wanted; I could be me, fully, and still be loved. Now I support others who are learning to date from a place of curiosity, confidence, and self-respect.

For a long time, I thought self-care was bubble baths and face masks. But when I was going through trauma, grief, parenting struggles, and just trying to survive, it didn’t matter how many candles I lit. I needed real care. The kind that helps you breathe again. The kind that says: “I matter, too.” Self-care for me became turning off my phone. Saying no. Crying when I needed to. Getting outside. Drinking water. Eating something nourishing. Letting myself rest without guilt. Slowly, it became less about what looked good and more about what actually helped me feel like myself again. If you’re tired, burnt out, or feeling like you’ve lost touch with yourself, this space is for you. We don’t need perfect routines. We need compassion, honesty, and grace.

I didn’t know I was nonbinary until my 20s. I knew something felt off for a long time—I just didn’t have the language, support, or permission to really ask the questions. It wasn’t until my 30s that I began to feel truly comfortable in my gender and find peace in the fluid, shifting nature of who I am. That’s why I offer this space—for older adults who are just starting to explore their gender, or who have been quietly questioning for years. You might be in your 40s, 60s, or beyond. You might be coming out later in life, or wondering if you need to come out at all. You might feel completely alone in this process. You’re not. In the years I’ve spent doing this work, I’ve supported people of all ages—including folks twice my age—as they navigated their own gender journeys. Whether you're feeling confused, afraid, relieved, lit up, or all of the above, you’re welcome here. There’s no timeline for self-discovery, no age limit on becoming more yourself. We can talk through the big questi

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’ve spent my life building things: companies, brands, careers, and resilience in the face of challenges. I started in music and live events, moved into Fortune 500 brand campaigns, and eventually found my calling in coaching and helping others move forward with purpose. My clients come to me when they’re at a crossroads feeling stuck, burned out, or ready to take a leap but unsure where to start. Together, we cut through the noise, get clear on what really matters, and create a plan you can actually stick to. I combine real-world business experience with mindfulness, mental wellness tools, and straight-up honest conversation. If you’re looking for someone who’s been in the trenches, understands high-pressure decisions, and can help you rebuild your focus and drive, I’m here for that.

I’ve made some of the hardest relationship decisions a woman can face—walking away from a long-term marriage after betrayal, and later ending a short-lived second marriage that I knew in my gut wasn’t right even before the wedding. In both cases, I battled feelings of guilt, fear, and confusion—especially as a woman of faith trying to do “the right thing.” I understand how isolating it feels when you’re stuck between what looks good on paper and what your soul is whispering. Whether you’re questioning a relationship, recovering from one, or just trying to hear your own voice again, I can help you find clarity and peace.

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.

There were times I felt surrounded by people yet deeply alone , like my emotions had no place to land . I questioned whether I was too much or not enough , and that silenced echoe louder than words . Through reflection , I began to understand that loneliness isn't a flaw it's a signal . I learned to listen to it , to create space to myself and to build connection from the inside out . Now , I offer that same space to others who feel unseen , helping them reconnect with their voice and worth.

Life can shift in ways we never planned for—new jobs, moves, breakups, health changes, or sudden losses. Even good changes can feel overwhelming when the future looks unclear. I’ve been through my share of upheaval and have learned how to find steadiness when the ground feels unsteady. In our conversation, you’ll have a safe space to talk through what’s changing, process the emotions, and explore ways to ground yourself when nothing feels certain. Best For: Big life transitions (expected or unexpected) Feeling anxious or “stuck” in the unknown Wanting to find a sense of stability and control What You’ll Get: A judgment-free place to name your fears and hopes Practical grounding and self-care ideas Support in mapping your next small, doable steps

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.

I started drinking at 15, and by the time I joined the military, my alcohol use was already out of control. The military culture only fueled my addiction, and over my 10-year service, I drank heavily almost every day. I went through a 16-week outpatient recovery program near the end of my military career, but I relapsed soon after. For years, I kept drinking to cope with the stress of daily life, often blacking out and waking up to the consequences. It wasn’t until July 2020, after a serious blackout and an ultimatum from my wife, that I decided I needed to quit for good. I went cold turkey and have been sober since then. The first year was tough, but with weekly therapy and support from my family, I’ve managed to stay on track. Today, I’m proud to be sober and committed to sharing my experience to help others who are struggling with alcohol addiction.

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.

When home feels like a battlefield, the brain responds the same way war does, children exposed to family violence develop brain activity patterns strikingly similar to combat veterans. This hour session explores how childhood exposure to family conflict and violence shapes the brain’s threat-detection systems, often mirroring the neural patterns of combat veterans. Using insights from studies we will learn to identify when we are in heightened activity in the amygdala and anterior insula—regions linked to vigilance and anxiety—reflects the brain’s adaptation to repeated danger. While such changes may serve as protective in the short term, they increase vulnerability to long-term anxiety and emotional distress. While this adaptation might offer a short-term benefit by helping children identify danger, it also increases vulnerability to anxiety disorders and other mental health problems later in life.

Midlife is not for the faint of heart!! I am a 45 year old woman, going through peri-menopause, living sober, with a husband of 20 years and two children, ages 20 and 16. So I get it ladies. Mental health challenges, physical challenges, life goals and values are different now than they were twenty plus years ago… but we are wiser now too!! With experience and wisdom, along with a few wrinkles, we have stamina and mental endurance that we need to harness and nurture. A year before I turned 40, I moved my family from the Northeast (where I had always lived) to the sunny shores of southeast Florida. I demanded that the next chapter of my life be on my terms, focusing on my own mental and emotional health and wellbeing. After years of being a caretaker, it was my turn to look inward and refocus my intentions creatively to build a life that reflects who I want to be and how I want to impact the community around me. We all deserve to live purposefully, one day at a time.

I am legally blind. When I say "blind," I mean blind. I'm so blind that I can't even see enough to read large print. My primary means of reading are through Braille and audio, and I am able to do anything a sighted person can do on a smartphone with the help of Voiceover. Having a baby and navigating the early years is difficult. Add single motherhood, and things get rough. But how to navigate parenting when you're the only parent, blind, and being alone with your baby most of the time? I did it, and I came out the other side stronger, more resourceful. I learned to change a diaper with the help of my mother. She bought a baby doll and proceeded to have me practice on the doll. But boy oh boy, the day before she went back to work, the day before my first day of being alone with my baby, I was a wreck. Nerves on top of postpartum hormones? No thanks. Brush-washing bottles became learned by being shown and practiced as well. I made his formula by using a Brezza; I just needed a sighted person to preset the machine so that it would put the right amount of formula into the bottle. The difficulty really started when my son got to the "pointing" stage. He couldn't verbalize what he wanted; all he was able to do was point. And this blind bat couldn't figure out (yes I do make blind jokes and love it), so he'd fuss. But I pushed through. I would figure out what he wanted eventually through knowing his routine, learning his cries, and plain and simple trial and error. In parenting with a disability (regardless of what the disability may be), abounding love for the child, the right resources, and determination are the keys to success. It can be done; I'm living proof.

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 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.

I had my first drink at 10 years old and was binge drinking regularly as a teenager. By 18, I was drinking daily and using drugs. I stayed stuck in that cycle until I was 36. It took me over two years of serious effort to finally quit. I didn’t do it alone—I leaned into a 12-step program, therapy, and a lot of support from friends who had been there. Now, I’ve been sober for over 17 years. Helping others get sober has become a part of my life too. I’ve supported friends through relapses, connected people with local resources, and even watched someone go from crying in despair to four years clean and thriving. I know the shame, the cravings, the lies we tell ourselves, and I also know it’s possible to live differently. I’m a dad, a surfer, and someone who still works on my mental health daily. Recovery has given me a life I never thought I could have. I’m here to listen, share what worked for me, and walk alongside anyone who’s just starting out or struggling to hold on.

Ever had conversations that should have been simple—expressing feelings, setting boundaries, navigating friendships—but felt like puzzles with missing pieces? Yeah, always been that way with me. Sometimes I felt like too much, sometimes too little, and almost always like I was being misunderstood. I’ve spent years untangling that sense of disconnection—communicating in a way that feels true to me while still bridging the gap with others. Through my work in peer support, I’ve helped people recognize their own emotional language, whether it’s through words, actions, or quiet understanding. You don’t have to force yourself into someone else’s mold to be heard. If you’ve ever struggled to express your feelings or felt like you just don’t "fit" emotionally, I get it. Let’s explore how you naturally communicate and find ways to connect with the people who truly understand you.

For much of my life, I believed that vulnerability meant weakness. I thought I had to keep my struggles hidden and always appear strong. But over time, I learned that the moments I felt most connected, supported, and loved came when I allowed myself to be truly seen. Vulnerability opened the door to healing, deeper relationships, and self-acceptance. Now, I want to share that truth with others—that being vulnerable doesn’t make you fragile, it makes you beautiful and sets you free. There is beauty in showing up as you are, without masks or defenses. Together, we can explore how embracing vulnerability leads to strength, courage, and freedom.

Hello! I’m a visually impaired single mom who’s been raising my son on my own since day one, and I know firsthand how overwhelming—and rewarding—that journey can be. When my husband left during my pregnancy, I was devastated. But leaning on my faith in God, the love of my family, and the strength I discovered in small everyday victories helped me keep going. My parents always believed in me and supported me through public school, and that encouragement laid the foundation for who I am today. I’m currently working toward becoming a Licensed Professional Counselor because I want to walk alongside others in their hardest seasons. I’ve battled clinical depression and PTSD, and I’ve come out stronger, more compassionate, and deeply committed to helping others feel seen, heard, and supported. If you’re navigating single parenthood, trauma, or just need someone to talk to who truly understands, I’m here—and I can’t wait to connect.

I am no stranger to stress! My background in health psychology and experience with the therapeutic process can help you achieve your goals of managing and coping with stress, in addition to regulating emotions. The mission isn't to rid our lives of stress - which is impossible - but to develop a healthy relationship with life's challenges and ourselves, and feel comfortable facing unpleasant emotions.

I didn’t grow up talking about Roth IRAs or credit scores at the dinner table. What I knew about money came from watching the people around me survive—not thrive. I learned how to stretch, hustle, and make do. But budgeting? Investing? Understanding my paycheck? That came later… painfully, and mostly through trial and error. For a long time, I carried shame about what I didn’t know. I thought I was behind. I thought I was bad with money. But the truth is, I was never taught. And that’s not a personal failure—it’s a systemic one. Eventually, I got tired of feeling anxious every time I checked my bank account. I started reading, asking questions, unlearning toxic money beliefs, and building systems that actually worked for me. I’m not a financial advisor—but I am someone who understands what it’s like to figure it out as you go. If you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the idea of “getting it together,” but deep down you want to be more in control of your money—you’re in the right place. We can start wherever you are.

I spent nine tough years in corporate, fighting my way through office politics, chasing promotions, putting in all the hard work—only to learn that visibility matters more than effort. I got lost in bureaucracy, had to manage impossible bosses, and burned out far too often. Then I jumped into a startup world filled with freedom and ownership—yes, I had way more impact, but I also got flattened by constant uncertainty and a total lack of structure. If you’re stuck in either space—feeling drained by faceless corporate walls or disoriented by startup chaos—trust me, I’ve been there. Those two worlds demand different strategies for your time, energy, and results. That’s why I'm here: to help you navigate both with clarity, intention, and the grit you need to thrive.

Hello, my name is Jamie Henkin and I’m a Certified Peer Support Specialist. I experienced mild depression as a young child and it seemed to increase along with added anxiety as I grew older. I noticed it having a profound effect in and on my life as I entered my 30’s. I wasn’t as knowledgeable about healthy coping skills back then as I am now. Over the last 25 years, I used therapy and prescription medications to cope with my anxiety and depression, though not consistently. Unfortunately, in stressful times, when I couldn’t manage my symptoms, I turned to drug and alcohol use, which led me to hit rock bottom three times. All of these periods, included suicidal ideations, and two of them alcohol related consequences. Several months ago, I spent 30 days in a residential treatment center which saved my life and taught me healthy coping skills. It’s my goal to pass on my knowledge to you in the hopes that you can heal as well.

I believe in the power of mindset and intentional living. Over the years I've used tools like vision boards, affirmations, and positive self-talk to shift my perspective and create real change. I've learned how powerful it is to get clear on personal values & priorities, and how freeing it feels when your actions align with your beliefs and goals. Self-reflection and taking ownership of your self-worth is all part of building the vision and future you want. Its not about being perfect, but about trusting yourself and honoring what matters to you, and going from there. If you are curious about manifesting, need help clarifying your goals, or just want some encouragement as you grow, I'm here to listen, support you, and cheer you on.

I've been a "nice guy" for as long as I can remember. Having been a pastor, teacher, husband, brother, son - among many other roles - I have had to navigate what it means to be a "good man" in various scenarios. I have had to overcome being angry and frustrated at leaders I did not respect, at others who I felt had abandoned me in my time of need, and at society for not giving me the tools to navigate these emotions. Through reading, talking, meeting with other men, and listening deeply to the women in my life, I have learned to harness masculine principles that put me in harmony, rather than discord, with the world. I am now putting into practice what it means to not just be nice but be kind, to be not just good but great, as a show up in each of my relationships.

In 2005, when I was 26, I was thrown from a motorcycle at 50 miles per hour. I broke my back and was told I might never walk again. The physical pain was intense, but the emotional toll ran even deeper—learning to walk again was just one part of the journey. I dealt with PTSD, depression, anxiety, and the kind of shame that creeps in when your body doesn’t feel like your own anymore. I still live with partial paralysis and nerve damage, and that brings daily challenges most people don’t see. It wasn’t easy navigating all of that alone, especially as I tried to hold on to relationships and make peace with the new version of myself. I know what it feels like to be embarrassed, to feel broken, and to not recognize your life anymore. But I also know what it feels like to come out the other side—still healing, still laughing, and finally proud of who I’ve become. I’ve had the honor of helping others find their way through their own hardships, sometimes just by listening, sometimes by sharing my own scars. If you're in the thick of it, I’m here. And if we can laugh even once together, that’s a win.

Life hasn’t always been easy, and I’ve faced my share of struggles. Growing up as the second oldest of six kids, I learned early how to juggle responsibilities, including helping raise my older sister’s children in their early years. My own journey as a mom has had its challenges, too—infertility, pregnancy loss, and health issues like POTS have all shaped my path. But perhaps the most challenging experience was a serious car accident that left me feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. I struggled with suicidal thoughts before seeking therapy, and it was through that therapy that I was able to heal and rebuild my sense of purpose. As a parent, I’ve encountered many obstacles, from advocating for my son’s speech development to learning that a small but significant health issue—an ear bead that had been lodged in his ear for eight years—was affecting his hearing and development. Through patience, perseverance, and a willingness to explore natural and alternative solutions, I’ve learned how to face the obstacles in my life with resilience.

For years, my identity was wrapped up in being “Mom.” I loved raising my two kids—and still do—but I reached a point where I barely recognized myself outside of who I was for them. As they grew more independent and eventually left for college, I had to rediscover what brought me joy, what dreams I had set aside, and who I was apart from parenting. That journey included grief, growth, and learning to give myself permission to dream again. Now, I help other women reconnect with their passions, purpose, and confidence—even while still being great moms.

Growing up mainly involved managing my parent's emotions instead of the other way around. Conversations felt unpredictable—sometimes too much, sometimes too little—and I found myself taking on roles I wasn’t meant to carry. Whether it was absorbing their stress, minimizing my feelings to keep the peace, or feeling unseen in moments when I needed support. It shaped the way I viewed myself and my relationships. I struggled to untangle what was me versus what was a survival response to the dynamics I grew up with. It took time, reflection, and effort to recognize that I didn’t have to carry the emotional weight of others. Learning to separate my identity from my upbringing gave me space to redefine self-worth on my terms and finally set emotional boundaries. If you’ve ever felt like you’ve had to shrink yourself, over-function, or fight to be understood, let’s explore how you can step into your own identity—without guilt or fear, and heal from the impact of emotionally immature parents.

During the covid-19 lockdown, I was furloughed and living alone, with a hefty stipend from the government. I did as any young twenty-something would do and spent my time feeding into targeted marketing. I bought new makeup, skincare, clothes, home decor - anything to fill the void of experiencing the real world. Corporations managed to profit more than ever, yet convinced us that it was our duty to ‘recover the economy’ once things opened up again. Which, yes - recover the economy by supporting local businesses, using public transportation, and participating in arts and culture. Not continuing to buy useless plastic from billion dollar corporations. Consumerism makes you think that you need to constantly have more. It has resulted in mental health and environmental problems just to scratch the surface. It has become increasingly hard to drown out the noise, but consuming less is possible and even more fulfilling than buying the hot new product in your feed.

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.

Because I get it. After facing a life-threatening health scare, rebuilding my life, healing relationships, overcoming anxiety, and making powerful changes in my health and habits, I’ve learned what it takes to create lasting transformation from the inside out. Now I help others do the same — with compassion, clarity, and zero judgment.

I have been abandoned by my parents that is always mold and need to find relationships with the wrong people. I was adopted, but never really close with them until my later years I have spent years in a shadow of a sibling and with her being murdered I had to learn how to find myself and love myself for me. I have been through toxic relationship, relationships, abusive relationship, relationships physically, and emotionally and mentally I dealt with death of many family and friends and a boyfriend I have dealt with anxiety and depression of my own, and I’ve seen it I have dealt with A family member that has committed suicide. I have dealt with having children with someone and being a single mom thinking we were a family and we weren’t. I’ve had to learn how to constantly grow and change in my surroundings and adapt in situations that are fell upon my feet and always trying to find a positive light so I could be the best version of myself for me and my children.

I know what it feels like to be burnt out, to be tired in your body, numb in your spirit, and overwhelmed by responsibilities that never seem to end. For years I tried to push through, believing rest had to be earned. But what I learned is that burnout isn’t a malfunction or weakness, it’s a signal. It’s your body and mind begging for a new way of being. Through my own healing, I discovered how to step off the hamster wheel, slow down, and actually hear myself again. Now, I help others honor their limits, create rhythms of rest, and rebuild their energy without guilt. Together we’ll find sustainable ways to feel human again.

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.

I spent years feeling like I was trying to translate my thoughts and emotions into a language that wasn’t mine. Conversations that seemed effortless for others—small talk, advocating for myself, expressing feelings without fear—felt exhausting. Being neurodivergent meant my brain processed interactions differently, and it wasn’t always easy for people to understand that. Over time, I learned that effective communication isn’t about forcing yourself to conform—it’s about discovering how you communicate best and finding strategies that help others meet you where you are. Whether it’s navigating relationships, workplace dynamics, or even daily interactions, having tools that honor your needs can make a huge difference. Through peer support, I’ve helped people uncover their communication strengths, manage overwhelm in social situations, and build confidence in expressing themselves authentically. You don’t have to mask or shrink yourself to be heard. Let’s explore what works for you.

As a parent of eight, including two children adopted from China with special needs, I’ve experienced the joys and challenges of raising a blended family. Over the years, I've supported our kids through surgeries, behavioral and attachment issues, and setting healthy boundaries. These challenges have shaped me with a deep well of empathy and resilience. I’ve learned that trust, communication, and flexibility are key in parenting, especially when blending families or parenting children with special needs. My experience as a trained hospice worker, death doula, and grief coach has also deepened my understanding of life's transitions, whether it's navigating grief or supporting a family member through loss. I've been married for nearly 30 years, and through that time, my relationship has grown stronger through communication and mutual support. Whether you're a parent facing unique challenges or dealing with a life transition, I’m here to offer perspective, support, and a listening ear. I know firsthand the power of connection and showing up for others, and I want to help you find your strength and resilience.

In January of 2022, I was 8 months pregnant with my son, Joseph. On January 04, my husband and I separated. I dove into the most intense depression I've ever experienced; I stayed in bed during the day with my phone beside me waiting for it to ring with the news that I could come back home. I lost all excitement for motherhood. When my parents arrived home after work, I would get out of bed, trying to put on a fascade of some semblance of happiness. I would eat dinner, stay up for a few more hours, then crawl back into bed anywhere from 7:30 to 8 PM. A week or so after the separation began, I started working through a devotional book called "Broken Heart On Hold." I don't recall the author, but it was a devotional for women going through an unwanted separation from their husbands. Two of those devotionals stand out to me, and if it weren't for them, I may not have made it. The first one told me to visually "look up into the face of God instead of down into the abyss of your pain." And I did. When the pain felt like it would consume me, I would actually tilt my head upward while imagining the face of God. The second devotional that stood out to me told me to imagine my husband, myself, and Jesus standing in a meadow. I would then imagine taking the pieces of my broken heart out of my husband's hands and placing them into the hands of Jesus. Again, when the pain threatened to consume me, I would visualize this. My excitement for motherhood began to return when my OB gave me the news that I was dilating. That's when it hit me. This was happening. I was having a baby! I wanted this baby. I knew that I would do my best to raise him to the best of my ability. I would be okay. And I am okay! I was awarded sole custody of my sweet, precious baby boy, and I am now about to marry a man who has shown me a fierce, true form of love that I've never experienced before. He loves my son as his own, and my son adores him. I made it. I survived. If it weren't for Jesus, I may not have made it. But I did. And you can, too.

I was diagnosed with anorexia at the age of 14 and spent almost a decade fighting with my own mind to nourish my body. In the decades since, I have come to find peace with the body that I am blessed to inhabit, and want to share my experience, strength, and hope with others. To the outside world I may seem “recovered”, but as most of us know who battle with EDs, recovery is a lifelong, daily process. I have learned that I am my own worst critic, and that I do not need to look or act sick to let others know that I am struggling emotionally. I have found my voice, and my purpose, and while I sometimes still have intrusive thoughts when looking at food, I use my nutritional knowledge to nourish myself properly, without rules or restrictions, using creativity to invent healthy recipes and meals to feed myself and my loved ones. I've realized that disordered eating isn’t about food at all… but about control and a sense of self and purpose in the world. I hope to help support you on your journey to being free from the confines of calorie counting & obsession.

A big move is more than packing boxes—it’s a chance to rediscover yourself. Leaving behind familiar streets, routines, and even relationships can feel disorienting, but it also creates space for growth. With every move comes both loss and opportunity: grief for what you’re leaving and excitement for what lies ahead. Transitions test your resilience, pushing you to question who you are without the anchors of place and familiarity. Yet, they also invite you to cultivate new community, explore unfamiliar landscapes, and step into parts of yourself you may have neglected. Moving can be a sacred threshold, a liminal space where the old no longer fits but the new isn’t fully formed. It asks: what do you want to carry forward, and what can you finally set down? Finding yourself through the big move means embracing uncertainty, honoring the past, and leaning into possibility. It’s not just about where you’re going, but about who you’re becoming along the way.

Hi, my name is Luanne and I’m a 64-year-old white female. I have been through a lot in my life. I am in recovery for mental illness. Probably had mental illness at an early age, but wasn’t diagnosed till I was in high school. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. But in my 30s IHi, my name is Luanne and I’m a 64-year-old white female. I have been through a lot in my life. I am in recovery for mental illness. Probably had mental illness at a early age, but wasn’t diagnosed till I was in high school. I was diagnosed then with anxiety and depression. But in my 30s, I was diagnosed with bipolar. I went through a divorce around that time and had financial instability. I’ve been through a lot of losses in my life. Losses through death losses through divorce job losses career losses. I can help you navigate Life. Life can be painful at time, but I can help you navigate And regain the life. God meant for you to have.

I’ve played many roles in my life—student, employee, freelancer, entrepreneur—but those roles don’t define who I am. What truly defines me are my values, passions, interests, hobbies, personality, and so much more. The same is true for you. My goal is to help you find, discover, or rediscover what makes you uniquely you. Together, we’ll explore your strengths, uncover your passions, and clarify what matters most. We’ll look beyond what you’ve done or the labels you carry and focus on who you are at your core. Whether it’s reconnecting with your purpose, uncovering what brings you joy, or designing a life aligned with your values, this journey is about self-discovery, empowerment, and confidence. You’ll leave feeling inspired, equipped with practical tools, and ready to create a life that feels authentically yours. Life isn’t just about the roles you’ve played—it’s about discovering the heart of who you truly are, and I’m here to help you uncover it.

Ever been passed up for a job, overlooked for a promotion or inclusion in a new project because you’re “too old” or “too young,” but you and others knew you had the experience and talent that made you perfect for the job? Ageism is stereotypical individual and societal bias. It may be blatant or subtle, and even part of the corporate culture. My personal experience is a resounding Yes! Growing up and into my 20s I was discounted because anyone under 30 wasn’t valued. My 12-year search for work after retirement was unfruitful until recently. If asked for an interview, it was soon clear I didn’t fit into the culture regardless of my qualifications. Being discounted made me feel helpless, took a great toll on my self-confidence and made a huge dent in my attitude. Combating ageism is possible by first cultivating self-confidence--looking at your own biases, your accomplishments and having a growth mentality. This might be our starting point. Let’s work as a team. Let's do it!

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.

Sometimes we can’t pinpoint exactly why we are feeling down or overwhelmed, we just are. I understand that all to well because I experience this often. Because I have a history with depression and anxiety, I know how important it is to talk through our everyday stressors and get an outsiders perspective. I am here to listen and support you through this. I can reassure you that you aren’t alone in feeling overwhelmed and I can offer suggestions and techniques I’ve used to stay grounded in the moment.

I know what it’s like to second-guess everything and feel like an imposter in rooms where everyone else seems more confident, more capable, more 'put together.' I’ve battled those thoughts in friendships, work, creative projects, and more. No matter how much I accomplished, that little voice telling me I wasn’t enough kept creeping in. Over time, I’ve learned that imposter syndrome isn’t a sign that you aren’t capable—it’s often a reflection of deep self-awareness, high standards, and past experiences that made you doubt your worth. Working through it isn’t about silencing those thoughts completely; it’s about recognizing them, questioning them, and learning how to move forward anyway. Through peer support, I’ve helped others navigate these feelings—validating their fears while uncovering strategies to build confidence in who they are. You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone. You just have to see it for yourself.

I see or hear something that displeases me; there’s an immediate surge of energy in my gut. I feel like cursing or striking out. Or I feel like crying and hiding as when I was a child and anger wasn't allowed. Sometimes anger simmers unconsciously below the surface, waiting for a moment to erupt, most often at an inappropriate time bringing guilt or shame. It might translate into passive aggression, a biting comment or icy silence. Sometimes it morphs into something entirely different – anxiety or sadness or fear. Without psychoanalyzing, developing awareness of unrecognized anger can put us in control of it. Anger manifests in many ways. It often masquerades as insomnia and food disorders. Understanding how it manifests, acknowledging its presence, exploring it's origins and recognizing this consciously helps us better navigate it's various forms and respond in ways that are constructive rather than destructive. Giving help with such exploration is the work of a Warmer Expert.

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.

I was married for 20 years, but for at least half of that time, my partner was having same-sex affairs. We tried counseling, fought for our family, but in the end, I had to face the truth of continued betrayal. After the divorce, I waited a year before dating again, thinking I had done the “healing work.” But when I finally joined the dating apps, I met someone quickly and married him just 11 months later after a mostly long-distance relationship. I told myself I was setting a good Christian example for my kids, even though I knew in my gut I shouldn’t say yes. That short-term marriage ended after experiencing emotional and sexual abuse. It took my counselor looking me in the eye and saying, “He’s not going to change” for me to walk away. The process left me emotionally and spiritually bruised—but it also taught me how to trust myself again, rebuild my confidence, and approach dating with more discernment and grace. What I learned from both marriages is this: healing isn’t linear, and dating while grieving is complicated. Now, I help women learn to trust themselves again, navigate dating with honesty, and avoid repeating the same patterns. You’re not too much, too late, or too broken. There is hope—and there is healing. If you’re trying to figure out how to date after divorce without repeating the same patterns, I’d love to help.

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.

I can be there for you if you’re struggling with the pressure of classes, exams, or balancing school with life responsibilities. I had to raise my daughter as a single mother and full time college/Uni student and did it with mental health challenges. You can too. If you just need to vent about the stress of a full or even half load, I'm here. If you need some support to make small or big changes, I'm here.

For years, I have walked through and withstood constant conflict, misunderstanding, criticism, and an unhealthy home environment when it comes to my relationship with my mother. There is a nearly impenetrable wall of hurt, rejection, and misunderstanding between us. I truly understand the feeling of desperation and being trapped in your own home, dreading times when someone will be walking through the door because you don't know what mood they're in. I know the feeling of desperately trying to keep emotion bottled up inside so you don't lash out at the person, whether it be verbally or emotionally. And oh how I know the frustration of someone denying that things have happened when you know for a fact that they have. Have you heard of the five love languages? They are: acts of service, quality time, physical touch, gift giving, and words of affirmation. Our primary way of feeling loved typically happens when the other person speaks our love language. This doesn't happen between my mother and I. Whether it's because I'm adopted or she truly doesn't understand, I don't feel loved. Sure, my family has always provided for me. However, my top two love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation. Our personalities clash. She's not affectionate, she's an introvert, and she feels the need for perfection. I'm the exact opposite. Can you relate? Do you need to feel heard, understood, validated, appreciated for your strengths, etc? Let's chat. I can imagine how you feel, and I would love to provide you with a safe space for you to relax, breathe, vent, cry, or whatever it is that you need in that conflict

Because no one told you it would be this hard. You thought it would get easier but somehow, it feels harder. You want meaningful, mutual friendships. But between work, life, and trust issues, it’s complicated. Maybe you’ve moved cities, left a toxic community, or simply outgrown the people you used to feel close to. Now you’re wondering: How do I even start over? I get it. I've been there and felt everything you are feeling. I know what it’s like to crave connection but not want to settle for surface-level people or performative friendships. Let’s talk about what’s in the way and how to build the kind of connections your soul actually needs.

Growing up, I had a bit of a bad attitude. I genuinely believed I was unlucky and that good things just wouldn’t happen to me. I saw other people living lives that felt out of reach, and I assumed I’d always be stuck in a version of life that felt small, stressful, or just meh. That started to shift when I learned about limiting beliefs. I realized I had internalized some deep stories about what I thought I deserved, and that those beliefs were shaping what I did and didn’t go after. Once I began doing intentional work to change those patterns, so much started to change. I landed a job I enjoy, started a career I’m proud of, and cultivated friendships that bring me real joy. These days, people even comment on how “lucky” I am, but I know it’s not just luck. It’s mindset, consistency, and dreaming on purpose. I now spend regular time visualizing, meditating, doing EFT tapping, and creating vision boards that keep me aligned and connected to what I actually want. If you were never taught to dream big or even figure out what you actually want, I’d love to help you take those first steps.

I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression for most of my life, but things became especially challenging in my 30s. For a long time, I used alcohol to numb the feelings I couldn’t handle, which only made things worse. After a serious depressive episode and a DUI, I finally sought help at a behavioral health treatment facility. That experience was a turning point. I learned how to cope with my emotions in healthier ways through therapy and support from friends and family. Now, I’m mostly sober and have control over my alcohol use—I choose when and how to drink, and it no longer controls me. I also focus on wellness through exercise and nutrition, which has helped me maintain balance. I’ve had moments when I felt like giving up, including three suicide attempts, but now I’m happier and steadier than I ever thought possible. I want to use my journey to help others who are navigating anxiety, depression, and the difficult road to healing.

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.

I know what it feels like to be in limbo where life feels flimsy, unstable, and nothing seems to stick. I’ve been there, caught between who I was and who I was becoming, unsure if I’d ever feel grounded again. What I discovered is that this in-between space holds power: it’s where the old identities dissolve so the authentic self can emerge. My own journey of rediscovery taught me how to strip away roles, expectations, and masks until I could see myself clearly again. Now, I help others navigate this messy, uncertain middle ground, which is finding clarity, strength, and a sense of self that they can finally trust.

I understand and respect that everyone's faith journeys are different. I grew up in the church and have experienced the effects of church hurt and religious practice. At the same time, I have benefited from gaining understanding of the core of my faith and developing a true relationship with God, both through personal experience and my education (a Master's in Biblical and Theological Studies). Through that relationship I have gained an understanding of my purpose and value, self-love and love for others, a sense of peace, and much more. I love the opporutinity to encourage others in their faith journey, and to hopefully help them to uncover and understand what they may be seeking. I would love to accompany and assist you on your personal journey.

For much of my life, I faced challenges that tested my emotional resilience and sense of self. Through my own healing journey, I learned the value of slowing down, reflecting, and developing healthy coping tools. Over time, I became the friend and support system others could turn to during their hardest moments. My experiences have taught me the importance of listening with compassion, respecting each person’s unique story, and creating a safe space where people feel truly seen. Now, I want to share that same steady presence to help others navigate change, rebuild confidence, and discover their own inner strength.

I tell everyone, I have lived a million lives in this one life. Although in my opinion, that is the best way to be. Try everything and see what sticks. Why limit yourself? It can be scary starting over and reinventing yourself in a new career, city, friend group, etc., although staying stuck and unhappy is even scarier.

I have struggled with insomnia for about 4 years. I would wake up in the middle of the night and not be able to sleep again often for 3 or 4 hours or sometimes just not at all. This would leave me feeling extremely grumpy the next day, sometimes exhausted to the point of having trouble driving, and affected my performance in my job and my ability to connect with my kids. I have found a variety of different practices that have been helpful for me to keep me from waking up on the middle of the night, or if I do wake up to get back to sleep within a short period of time. They aren’t foolproof, I still have nights occasionally that leave me exhausted, but they are far fewer and I have learned to cope with the tiredness better even on those days that are the worst.

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.

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.

At the age of 25 after having my two daughters I learned about postpartum depression, and was diagnosed with Asperger’s. Since then I have navigated life as a mother, spouse, educator and advocate for disability justice and I would like to help bring equity and inclusivity to the world

I’ve been through a lot in my life—substance use, legal troubles, and homelessness—before experiencing a full recovery and spiritual awakening. My journey taught me the value of self-reflection, the importance of healthy relationships, and the power of faith. After years of working in addiction treatment, I’ve learned how crucial it is to understand attachment styles, healthy communication, and self-love. For years, I struggled in toxic relationships, but in my early 30s, I began learning about codependency and attachment styles, which has transformed the way I relate to others. My close relationship with God has been central to my healing, and I believe that the love I receive from Him forms the foundation for building healthy, fulfilling relationships. I truly believe that healing and growth are possible for everyone, no matter their past. I’m here to share my experiences, tools, and encouragement to help others walk their own path to recovery and healthy relationships.

As a mom of three, I know firsthand the complexities of raising kids in today’s world, especially when mental health struggles are part of the journey. My kids have faced a range of challenges, including learning differences, anxiety, and depression. One of my children was severely impacted by bullying, which led to mood disruptions and a lot of pain. The pandemic and the rise of technology have only added to the isolation they feel. It can be a scary place, not knowing where to turn for support or understanding. I’ve watched my children struggle, but I’ve also seen them make progress. It’s not easy, but I’ve learned the importance of leaning on the right resources—behavioral therapy, support from family and friends—and the power of connection. I’ve also supported a dear friend through her own challenges with her children, offering a safe space for her to talk openly about her situation. It helped her feel less alone, knowing others were going through similar struggles. Now, I want to provide that same kind of support to others who are navigating the often tough and isolating road of parenting kids with mental health challenges.