Redefining your identity

Abby G.

I think it's more common that we think to undergo a narrative reconstruction of our identities, especially after or during a great life change or loss. 2020 was the beginning for me of realizing I'd spent my life living into the expectations other people had for me, and those expectations ended up being out of alignment with who I want to be and how I seek to exist. Rewriting those narratives was challenging and asked a lot of me and I would have loved to have someone to talk it through with as I was getting started. I had to challenge a lot of the stories I'd come to believe about myself and discover if I'd actually written them or if they'd been told by someone else for me to internalize. My process of narrative reconstruction wasn't easy, but it's been the best practice I've ever picked up. Every day I try and move my life more into alignment with who i aspire to be and how I want to exist. There has been loss in the rewriting, but what I've gained has been worth it.

Overcoming domestic violence and breaking the cycle.

Alexis A.

I grew up as a victim of domestic violence and later became a perpetrator. Through therapy, I was able to work through my own issues and transform my life. I now work as a counselor at a Batterer Intervention Program, helping others break free from the cycle of abuse.

Getting unstuck from “what’s next?” moments

Angela V.

I’ve hit the 'stuck' phase more than once—feeling like I was spinning my wheels, craving change, but unsure what direction to go. I used to think I needed to have a five-year plan or a perfectly clear vision before I could make a move. Turns out, I just needed to start asking better questions and be willing to take small, brave steps. Through journaling, coaching, reflection, and trial-and-error, I learned how to listen to my inner voice instead of outside noise. I got clear on my values and how I wanted to feel in my next chapter—not just what title I wanted. If you’re feeling restless, unsure, or stuck at a crossroads, I’d love to help you sort through the noise and get back to clarity.

Creative travel with camper vans, remote working digital nomads, and unique accommodations

Blue D.

I spent summers with my grandparents in Puerto Rico, but left much of the island unexplored. When my retired parents took me on structured tours abroad, I was the youngest. Our road trips didn’t offer much freedom. I was just along for the ride. My daughter’s dad's parents took us on many Disney Vacation Club stays. I love the parks, but I wanted to see more. When I planned it was more of a solo mission—stressful logistics leading to less fun for all. I loved our trip from Florida to California and back in 16 days—sleeping in our Chrysler Pacifica minivan River. We ordered a Storyteller Overland camper van for more adventures, but Serenity became my rolling home when munchkin’s dad asked for a divorce and space. When my best friend moved in, I found my adventure companion. We planned together and made some of my best memories ever. Now, I'm renting a sticks and bricks because munchkin doesn't want to stay in Serenity with me. So Serenity sits until I can set off on more adventures.

Overcoming self-doubt and building personal confidence

Cathy H.

I’ve faced many challenges in my life, from losing both my parents and navigating a tough childhood to dealing with harassment and living next to a volatile neighbor. These experiences taught me resilience and the importance of confronting fear rather than avoiding it. One of my most rewarding experiences was running an organization for women and girls with UN Women in LA. I helped a woman who felt unsupported due to ageism. By encouraging her to trust herself and find her voice, I saw her confidence grow. That’s the kind of support I want to offer others is creating a space where they can build confidence and feel empowered. Through mentoring and guiding others, I’ve learned that true growth comes from offering space for people to discover their potential. I’m passionate about helping others face their challenges with strength and confidence, just as I’ve had to do in my own life.

Choosing family over everything, especially in recovery from alcohol, cocaine, opioids, and benzos

Eric T.

When I finally got sober in 2018, I didn’t do it because I had a court date or lost a job. I did it because I felt empty and I knew deep down that I was meant for more. Fast forward to today: I’m a dad to a 3-year-old son and a 2-year-old daughter, and a stepdad to a 10-year-old whose biological father is still in active addiction. Every day, I wake up with one mission: be the man my kids need. My addiction stole years from me, but recovery gave me something even more valuable: clarity. I learned how to show up. Not just for meetings or work, but for bedtime routines, tough talks, and the little moments that matter. My life now revolves around family, and every decision I make filters through one question: will this make me a better dad? I’ve spent years helping others in recovery, both professionally and in everyday life. But the work I’m most proud of is building a home where love, structure, and second chances live side by side. If you're trying to get clean and stay clean because of your family (or for the future family you hope to have) I’m here. I’ve been there. Let’s talk.

Navigating relationships when one partner has trauma responses or neurodivergence

Heather S.

I’ve spent much of my life navigating the complexities of relationships where one partner has different emotional and neurological needs. Diagnosed with autism at 32, I’ve had to learn how to express my needs, cope with sensory overload, and create healthy boundaries—all while working to overcome the effects of childhood sexual abuse. At times, I felt misunderstood or disconnected from those I loved, especially when I couldn’t communicate my struggles or when my partner didn’t fully understand my trauma responses. Along the way, I also faced significant health challenges, including using a cane for a period of time, which added another layer to my emotional load. But I didn’t give up on my relationships. Instead, I began to reframe conflict as an opportunity to understand each other more deeply, recognizing that both my neurodivergence and my partner's emotional needs were valid. Through a combination of therapy, personal growth, and the discipline of a carnivore diet, I found strategies to create more meaningful connections. Now, I specialize in helping couples like mine—one partner living with trauma or neurodivergence, the other without—navigate their challenges in a compassionate, effective way.

Breaking the pattern of being the fixer in relationships

Jennifer F.

I’m 52, single, never married, and don’t have kids—all by choice. Over the years, I’ve been in many relationships, and I’ve done a lot of deep self-work. One of the biggest patterns I uncovered was my tendency to be the nurturer—the fixer. I would give and give, thinking love meant saving someone else. Eventually, I realized that in trying to save others, I was losing myself. That shift—putting myself first—changed everything. Now, I focus on building balanced relationships where both people show up equally. I’ve never followed traditional timelines or societal expectations, and I’m okay with that. I know how isolating it can feel when the world tells you that you're supposed to be something else. But I’ve found a lot of peace—and even joy—in writing my own story. I’ve also helped friends reframe their own beliefs, especially around what it means to be alone or fulfilled. I’m not here to give all the answers, but I ask really good questions that can help you find your own.

Healing from an emotionally unavailable parent

Mabry B.

I grew up with a narcissistic, emotionally unavailable mother. For most of my life, I tried to win her love, please her, and fit into a mold she never created space for. It left me feeling broken, like something was wrong with me. When I became a mother myself, I was terrified—I didn’t want to repeat what I had been through. I had no healthy parenting model, only the word “no” and emotionally distant role models. I had to learn, day by day, how to be the parent I never had, not just to my children, but to my inner child too. I started putting up emotional boundaries, stopped trying to get something she couldn’t give, and found peace in letting go of who I wanted her to be. I learned to parent myself with love, patience, and honesty—acknowledging the grief, forgiving myself for past survival strategies, and stepping fully into the power I always had. Now, I support other women who are breaking the same cycle. You don’t have to keep trying and failing for approval that may never come. There’s relief, and deep peace, in giving yourself what you needed all along.

Self-awareness & getting to know yourself

Nina D.

As an artist, much of my life can feel like reinvention and rebirth, but at the center of all my iterations are a set of core values that is unshakeable and provides a thread through all of my stories, projects, aesthetic changes, relationships, and interests. It's been invaluable to feel grounded by my beliefs, even as goals shift. I'd love the opportunity to help you define those for yourself; to give you a sense of unshakable structure that you can use for all kinds of decisions: Does this new romantic partner share my values? Does this potential new gig line up with what I want to support? Does buying this new outfit/gadget/decoration reflect my innermost desires? Let's chat and find what anchors you to be able to make each move with confidence.

Co-parenting peacefully after divorce

Philip L.

Since my divorce in 2018, I’ve been navigating the challenges of co-parenting two teenage boys. Raised by a single mom, I knew early on how important it is for children to have stable, loving support from both parents. It hasn’t always been easy. At times, emotions ran high between me and my ex-wife, but I learned that stepping away from conflict and giving space led to better, calmer resolutions. One of the most important lessons I’ve embraced is not speaking negatively about their mother, allowing my children to maintain a healthy relationship with her. Over time, I’ve built a strong foundation with my boys based on respect, patience, and emotional stability. As a certified life and relationship coach, I now help other parents find ways to navigate similar challenges and prioritize the well-being of their children. I truly believe that with patience and care, peaceful co-parenting is possible.

Healing the relationship with yourself after emotional abuse

Rachel M.

When I was 18, I entered my first long-term relationship, and it lasted over five years. It slowly turned emotionally abusive, filled with threats, manipulation, and deep emotional confusion. I didn’t have the confidence or clarity to leave when I needed to, and staying so long made me feel like I had lost myself. After finally getting out, I spiraled - dealing with complex PTSD, depression, anxiety, and thoughts that scared me. What followed was a years-long journey of coming home to myself. I had to completely overhaul my relationships, learn boundaries, and understand why I kept searching for love outside of me instead of within. I started therapy, found somatic tools, leaned on safe people, and slowly rebuilt my inner voice: the one that says I’m enough. Now, I’m engaged to someone kind and emotionally safe, but that relationship wouldn’t have been possible without first healing the one I have with myself. That’s where all change began. I’d love to support anyone who feels like they’ve lost their sense of self and are ready to reconnect with the person they truly are.

Learning to love yourself amidst family pressure

Rae E.

Growing up in a loving but limited Christian household, I always felt like I had to fit into a box that didn’t quite match who I was. I was constantly navigating the tension between honoring my family’s values and honoring my own truth. This struggle continued as I transitioned into adulthood, especially when I started to recognize that the way I wanted to live my life didn’t always align with my family’s expectations. But I didn’t want to lose myself in the process of trying to please others. It took years of self-reflection, pushing boundaries, and breaking away from familiar patterns to understand that I could love my family without sacrificing my own identity. I had to learn that choosing myself didn’t mean rejecting them it meant embracing who I truly am. It was tough, especially around the holidays or family gatherings when the pressure to conform was strongest, but in the end, I found peace in balancing love for myself with love for my family. Now, I’m in a place where I can hold space for both: my needs and my family’s love, and I’d love to help others do the same.

Learning to love yourself amidst family pressure

Rae E.

Growing up in a loving but limited Christian household, I always felt like I had to fit into a box that didn’t quite match who I was. I was constantly navigating the tension between honoring my family’s values and honoring my own truth. This struggle continued as I transitioned into adulthood, especially when I started to recognize that the way I wanted to live my life didn’t always align with my family’s expectations. But I didn’t want to lose myself in the process of trying to please others. It took years of self-reflection, pushing boundaries, and breaking away from familiar patterns to understand that I could love my family without sacrificing my own identity. I had to learn that choosing myself didn’t mean rejecting them it meant embracing who I truly am. It was tough, especially around the holidays or family gatherings when the pressure to conform was strongest, but in the end, I found peace in balancing love for myself with love for my family. Now, I’m in a place where I can hold space for both: my needs and my family’s love, and I’d love to help others do the same.

Recognizing survival mode and reconnecting with the person you’re becoming

Rose T.

For years, I didn’t realize I was living in survival mode—it just felt like life. I had grown up with abandonment, trauma, and instability, and when I ran away at 20, I entered a whole new phase of just trying to get through each day. I was homeless, using substances to numb the pain, pushing myself through school even though I was mentally breaking down. I didn’t have time to think about healing—I was just trying to stay alive. But survival mode comes with a cost. You can’t dream, build, or grow when everything is about coping. It wasn’t until I started therapy and had safe people reflect back what I’d been carrying that I began to connect the dots. The choices I made, the relationships I stayed in, the way I doubted myself—it was all rooted in unprocessed pain. Once I could see that, I started to shift. I learned how to pause, how to care for myself without guilt, how to create safety that didn’t come from control or chaos. Now I help others recognize when they’re stuck in survival and start the process of becoming who they truly are—not just who they had to be to get by.

Navigating dating in midlife with confidence and clarity

Sami C.

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.

Navigating single parenting with strength and self-trust

Sarita B.

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.

Healing after abuse and rebuilding trust

karla d.

In my younger years, I didn’t realize how much I was shaped by my environment until therapy helped me see it clearly. I was caught in toxic and emotionally abusive relationships, both romantic and within my family, and I carried those wounds into how I connected with others. I became a chameleon, always trying to please people just to feel safe. Therapy helped me name my experiences and understand how deeply they affected me. Through faith, prayer, and a lot of self-reflection, I started building healthier connections, including a relationship where we openly communicate what supports us and what doesn’t. I also leaned on friends who understood my struggles, and together we reminded each other that healing was possible. It’s taken time, but now I know you’re never too broken to create a new beginning. I would love to support you as you learn to trust yourself and others again.