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.

I used to think burnout meant being tired. Like maybe I just needed a nap, a weekend off, or a better planner. But burnout isn’t just exhaustion, it’s a kind of soul-weariness. It’s waking up and feeling like your tank is on Empty, even after a full night’s sleep. It’s dreading your to-do list, feeling numb to things you used to care about, and quietly wondering if something is wrong with you because you just can’t anymore. For me, burnout came after years of trying to be the reliable one. The hard worker. The person who didn’t complain, who pushed through. I ignored the signs: the brain fog, the irritability, the constant fatigue, the Sunday dread. I thought rest was something you earned, not something you deserved just for being human. Eventually, my body and my spirit forced me to slow down. And in that stillness, I realized how much I had been running on fear—fear of being replaceable, of not doing enough, of letting people down. Burnout made me rethink everything: how I work, who I do it for, and what I need to feel okay. If you’re feeling depleted, disconnected, or just done—you’re not weak. You’re not failing. You’re probably burnt out. And you deserve space to talk about it.

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.

Past mistakes don't define me today. At one time I believed they did. Failed relationships and career missteps seemed to prove it. But no more. I discovered that regardless of the nature of the problems, they had some common denominators: unrealistic expectations and skewed self-assessments. My internalized self-critic worked overtime. And I was ashamed to ask for help. But with help, I adopted a new motto: While life leaves scars from where you've been, it doesn't dictate where you are going. With help and a little courage, I set more realistic expectations and detoxed that self-critic. With help I learned what motivated me to choose toxic relationships and unfulfilling career paths. We all have blind spots. With help I uncovered mine. Today I'm very selective when seeking friends. Today I am thriving in a career that is my calling. Your mistakes are not a life sentence; with effort and insight, you, too, can move forward.

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!

I graduated from college in May 2020, right into the pandemic-era job market. I felt lucky to land a job just a few months later, but it quickly revealed itself to be a toxic environment. I was laid off that October, and a long stretch of underemployment and instability began. I didn’t find consistent full-time work again until September 2021. That second job felt like a lifeline, but after about a year and a half, I was laid off again—only to be re-hired a week later when they realized they needed me back. In the brief window of that layoff, I had already started interviewing for a new role. I kept going with the process and, after multiple rounds, landed a better job: one that came with a raise and opportunities to grow. I was then able to leave the company that had laid off and re-hired me. Since 2020, I’ve experienced firsthand how chaotic and unpredictable the job market can be. I’ve learned what it takes to stay afloat through layoffs, rejections, and burnout, and have developed strategies for applications, interviews, and finding the confidence to keep going. If you’re feeling defeated by job searching, know that you’re not alone. I’m here to share practical advice and remind you that your worth is not defined by your employment status.

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.

I know what it feels like to carry more than your share—the stress, the exhaustion, and the weight that life puts on us. My own journey through healing taught me that wellness isn’t just about surviving, it’s about finding ways to truly live again. Over the years, I’ve walked this path not only for myself but alongside others as a Certified Peer and Recovery Support Specialist, empowerment coach, and someone deeply committed to creating spaces where healing is possible. In our one-on-one session, I’ll meet you exactly where you are. Together, we’ll explore what wellness looks like for you—whether that’s building new self-care practices, finding grounding tools to calm your mind, or simply having a safe space to release what you’ve been holding in. My role is to listen, to guide, and to remind you that you are not alone in this journey. If you’re ready to take a pause, exhale, and start creating balance in your life, I’d be honored to walk with you.

For months, I kept telling myself I was just tired. I'd wake up exhausted after a full night's sleep, drag myself through the day, and collapse on the couch feeling like I had nothing left to give. Work that used to energize me felt overwhelming, and I found myself snapping at people I cared about. I kept thinking if I could just power through, things would get better. But they didn't. I was running on empty and didn't even realize how empty the tank had become. The wake-up call came when I realized I'd stopped enjoying things that used to bring me joy. Everything felt like effort—even simple conversations with friends or activities I used to love. I wasn't just tired; I was completely depleted. I had to face the fact that the way I was working and living wasn't sustainable. The hardest part was admitting I needed to step back when everyone was counting on me, but I finally understood that I couldn't keep giving from an empty well. Recovery wasn't a quick fix—it was a gradual process of rebuilding my energy and rediscovering boundaries I'd let slip away. I had to learn to say no without guilt, to protect my time fiercely, and to recognize the early warning signs before I got to that breaking point again. Most importantly, I learned that rest isn't selfish; it's necessary. If you're feeling depleted, overwhelmed, or like you've lost yourself in the demands of life, I've walked that path and found my way back.

I once left a job that looked amazing on the outside—but behind closed doors, it was chaotic, unkind, and eroding my self-worth. I questioned my judgment, second-guessed every decision, and carried a quiet shame about what had happened. Leaving was only the beginning of healing. I had to unpack what I experienced, untangle my identity from the toxic culture, and remind myself of who I really was. It wasn’t instant, but with reflection, support, and new opportunities, I began to feel strong again. If you’ve walked away from a painful work environment, you’re not alone—and it’s not your fault. Let’s talk about how to process what you’ve been through and rebuild your confidence moving forward.

Being neurodivergent in a traditional work environment can feel like constantly trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. I’ve masked my ADHD for years—writing everything down, overpreparing, and pretending things didn’t overwhelm me when they absolutely did. It was exhausting. Eventually, I stopped trying to ‘fix’ myself and started leaning into what actually worked for me. I found ways to advocate for my needs, build systems that supported my brain, and let go of shame around doing things differently. If you’re navigating a similar path, I see you. There’s no one-size-fits-all way to succeed—and your brain is not broken. Let’s talk about how to own your strengths and thrive authentically.

I had my son when I was 17 years old, still a junior in high school, and it changed my life completely. Balancing school, work, and a newborn was overwhelming at times, but I was determined to create a better life for both of us. With help from friends and family, a lot of long nights, and even longer days, I managed to graduate, go to college, and eventually earn a Master’s degree. It wasn't easy. There were moments I felt like I was failing, moments I missed milestones, and moments I didn’t know if I could keep going. But through it all, I built a beautiful relationship with my son, who is now an amazing young man. Being a single teen parent forced me to grow up fast, but it also gave me incredible resilience, compassion, and strength that I carry with me today. I understand the loneliness, the fear, and the pure determination it takes to parent young and alone. I'd love to support others who are navigating this tough, beautiful journey.

I was taught that being of service was the key to being a good person. By 8, I already believed that my worth came from self-sacrifice. “Since your mom says you can only invite 3 girls, I’ll stay home,” I’d say. In my teens, overextending myself felt like a superpower. The idea of considering my own needs brought shame. As an adult, with a growing circle—husband, child, coworkers, friends—I kept giving, even as my time shrank. I believed I had to earn love through effort. But eventually, I burned out. I felt resentful and invisible. The truth? I didn’t know how to set boundaries. That realization changed everything. I dove into learning, therapy, and observing those who honored their own needs and others’.Recently, I even gave a professional talk on healthy boundaries. If you struggle to set limits without guilt, I see you. I’ve been there. Let’s work together to create a plan that honors YOU, too.

I serve in a high-stress industry, which means I have had to find ways to cope with various issues that come up in the workplace, such as unclear roles, being passed over, being burned out, and overworking. I have experienced job loss, long-term unemployment, job transitions, feeling worthless and unheard, and more.