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.

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.

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

When I was in college, I thought I had to have everything figured out—career, relationships, calling, identity. The truth? I didn’t. And that pressure almost crushed me, leading me to graduate high school at 16, college at 20 and then go on to earn my MA at 22. Now, after decades of experience as a professor, coach, and mentor to young women navigating these same questions, I’ve learned that clarity doesn’t come from forcing a five-year plan—it comes from learning to listen inward and upward. I love helping young women who feel stuck, overwhelmed, or unsure of their next step rediscover who they are and how to move forward with purpose and peace.

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.

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.

For the ones clocking in every day but questioning if this is really the life you want. When work feels unfulfilling, when promotions and growth never come, or when the only thing keeping you in your job is the pension you’ll collect someday—it’s hard not to wonder if you’re wasting your time. You see other people doing work that excites them, living lives they actually enjoy, and you can’t help but ask: Why not me? Do you ever feel like you’re being held back, but you don’t know where to go from here? Maybe you’re curious about entrepreneurship but don’t know where to start. Maybe you’re weighing financial stability against happiness. Or maybe you just need space to say out loud what you’ve been afraid to admit: this isn’t fulfilling anymore. I’ve been there—questioning purpose, stuck in jobs that drained me, and rebuilding from scratch. Now I help people create realities out of the ideas they once thought were too crazy to chase. You don’t have to figure out your next move alone.

Both of my marriages ended with the men I loved turning to men after our divorce. On the surface, I could tell myself “this isn’t about me” — but inside, it wrecked me. It made me question my worth as a woman, my sexuality, my femininity, and my very ability to be loved the way I thought I was. I carried a confusing mix of betrayal, inadequacy, and shame, even though logically I knew their choices weren’t a reflection of my value. This is something people rarely talk about — but I’ve lived it, and I know how isolating it feels.

I moved to the United States from Serbia with my ex-husband, who was a scientist pursuing his education. We started our family here, but over time, it became clear that he wasn’t as involved as I was. Our communication issues began to grow, and as the years passed, I started to recognize signs of narcissism in him. The verbal and emotional abuse took a toll on my self-esteem, and things got worse when he had an affair. The affair was incredibly painful, especially since we lived in a small town where everyone knew. The stress was overwhelming, and although we tried to reconcile, a family psychologist advised me to leave him. Two years later, I met my current husband, a psychologist, who helped me realize that I was a survivor of a narcissistic relationship. Now, I’m passionate about helping others who are navigating similar struggles, offering a compassionate ear and the support that I wish I had during those difficult times.

Aging is a tricky thing. I have learned so much about life, myself, transition and reclaiming as I've journeyed through the last 15+ years. No one prepared me for the cycles and what would be happening. I have discovered that I was and am able to recenter myself and be authentic and whole. The journey is hard. I have lived experience with childhood trauma, disordered eating, substance abuse and early widowhood. I imagined that once I reached 50's it would be smooth sailing. I was wrong! Let's talk about your experiences and discover how you can be your best as you grow!

I cared for Dad for 7 years, first in my home, then in his, each posing unique challenges. He was deferential in mine, but very controlling in his. I was building a professional practice, he was dealing with consequences of bladder cancer surgery. We had complicated feelings about each other: he praised my dedication to him, and feared I'd harm him with his medications; I resented leaving my home, being the caregiving sibling. I acted horribly at times (I locked him out of my RV which he dearly wanted to work on) and he reciprocated (making my friends feel unwelcome in his home). He'd call me by my mother's name. (Parental conflict was the norm growing up.) I came to have great compassion for her. We had moments of great generosity and we even had fun together, too. It brought out the worst and the best in us. But it never occurred to us to seek help, a trusted outsider to help provide perspective and verbalize frustrations. If this sounds familiar, let's work on it together.

The biggest challenge was coming out to myself. In the recovery community we talk about the "gifts of sobriety," things we learn about ourselves once the substance induced haze dissipates. My coming out was just that.....a gift. I had just turned 50 when I told my drinking story at a women's AA meeting. While I was clueless about myself, every lesbian in the room knew I was one of them. Due to internalized homophobia and unfamiliarity with the lifestyle, I intuitively felt threatened: I was embarrassed and ashamed, afraid of rejection. Being in corporate mode, I "hired" a "consultant" to help me assess my status. In the process, I found I already had lesbian friends. I found acceptance of myself and others. Whether you knew when you were 8 or are just now in discovery, coming out can be the most liberating of experiences. I've been there, done that, and I can help make your journey easier. You don't have to navigate it alone. Let me co-pilot your journey of discovery.

As a first-generation college student and first-generation corporate worker, I had to figure everything out on my own, from applying to schools and building a resume to opening a 401(k), choosing an HSA, and learning how to navigate the world of corporate benefits and workplace etiquette. Watching my parents hustle through the 2008 recession taught me early on that I deeply value stability—and for me, that has come from a 9-to-5 job. That stability has allowed me to take control of my finances and start building the kind of security I’ve envisioned for years. Now, at 26, I’m often the youngest person and only woman in the room, especially in my male-dominated corner of tech. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s pushed me to learn how to advocate for myself, make the most of every opportunity, and be proud of how far I’ve come. I’ve become the friend who loves to talk openly about jobs and money, and I’d love to help others just starting their own path (especially those going to college and trying to break into the 9-to-5 world with no roadmap!)

My finalized divorce after 7 1/2 years of marriage felt like I slapped myself in the face with a brick. Not only were the typical financial and physical changes jarring, the emotional severance from the one I had deemed "my best friend forever," felt so immense. I was deeply lost, ashamed, and humiliated. Although I tried to "live well as the best revenge," I did not handle it well. I also did not have family or friends to turn to for help. Time ultimately helped and with the perspective of 27 years since then, I can still relate to anyone who is experiencing similar internal conflict. Divorce may be necessary, it may be "for the best," but it may also hurt like hell and feel extremely isolating. Sometimes all I needed was for someone to listen back then, and at a minimum, that's what I'll always be able to offer someone else.

If you're pursuing a career in education and struggling to identify where your skills would best be utilized while also protecting your peace, I can help! We'll dig into your strengths, pet peeves, and deal breakers. We'll work through fears and misconceptions, discuss opportunities, and find clarity, whether you're choosing a major or sorting through job offers. I remember when I graduated and had narrowed my offers down to two districts, but I had no one with experience to talk to! It felt like flipping a coin. I started my teaching career in high school, then moved to middle school, and finished at the elementary level. I've taught ELA / Reading & Writing as well as Math in my own classroom as well as supported all four core subjects in an inclusion setting for SPED/DHH students. I've shared a classroom with all sorts of teachers and teaching styles, and I've mentored student teachers along the way. I'd be happy to help you work through it, too.

As a teacher, I spent many hours 1:1 with students developing their transition plan and post-graduation goals, using interviews, quizzes, and surveys to identify the best college and career options for them. You can find interest surveys online, but if you still feel stuck on finding a path to your goals, I can help! When I was a teen, my interests were all over the place. I simultaneously wanted to study art, sign language, and psychology, but also loved physics and statistics and felt pressure to follow in my family's footsteps and become an engineer. We took interest quizzes and strengths finders in school (which I highly recommend and are a great start!), but it's not that simple, is it? I wish someone had sat down with me and looked at what these options looked like in the real world. Since leaving teaching, I've been an interpreter. This has allowed me to be a fly on the wall in all sorts of places, and hopefully, it will allow me to help you discover where you want to be.

I have spent my life helping others, being a pastor and a teacher. As much as I enjoyed these professions, I found them ultimately draining and taking away from my other relationships in my life. I learned that in order to help others, I first need to take care of myself. If I do not have mental and spiritual clarity, then I will not be able to guide or assist others. Self-care is not selfish. It's the first step to reclaiming a life that inspires both yourself and others.

Becoming a parent changed my friendships in ways I never expected. Some friends drifted away when I couldn't make last-minute plans or stay out late anymore. Others seemed uncomfortable with my new reality, like they didn't know how to relate to me once I had kids. I felt guilty for not being as available, but also resentful when friends didn't understand why a simple dinner out now required two weeks of planning. I was grieving the spontaneous connections I used to have while trying to figure out who I was in these relationships now. The loneliness was real. I found myself surrounded by people at playgrounds and school events, but craving the deep conversations and authentic connections I used to have. Making mom friends felt awkward—were we connecting as people or just because our kids were the same age? I struggled with boundaries, too, feeling like I had to say yes to every social invitation to prove I was still fun, even when I was exhausted. I was trying to maintain my old friendships while building new ones, and doing neither very well. What I learned is that friendships, like everything else, need to evolve with your life stages. Some relationships naturally faded, and that was okay. Others deepened in unexpected ways when I got honest about what I needed and what I could offer. I discovered that quality mattered more than quantity, and that showing up authentically—even if it looked different than before—was better than pretending nothing had changed. If you're feeling disconnected from old friends, struggling to make new ones, or wondering how to maintain meaningful relationships while parenting, you're not alone in this shift.

In a few days, I will turn 50. I am not too sure I like that. I've been doing more looking back than looking forward. Knowing that 50 years of my life are gone, and most of them I identified as a Mom and homeschool Mom. I've been having a lot of trouble figuring out what the rest of my life will look like. I have taken some steps. Last year, I started a pet sitting, a mostly cat sitting, side business. I also completed the training to become a Certified Peer Support Specialist.

For most of my adult life, alcohol and weed were how I coped. I started drinking in my early 20s and didn’t really face the consequences until my 30s—by then, I had lost jobs, been arrested, and damaged some really important relationships. Weed felt like a comfort, but eventually, I realized I was just numbing my life away. Getting sober hasn’t been a straight line for me—I’ve had multiple stretches of sobriety, but this current one has lasted over five years. I’ve tried different tools along the way, including therapy, 12 Steps, SMART Recovery, and rehab. What really helped was learning how to become my own best friend. Today, I continue to use support groups and counseling to stay grounded. I’ve also helped people close to me get into recovery themselves—taking them to treatment, helping them find meetings, and staying in their corner while they got clean. If you’re struggling with sobriety or just figuring out where to begin, I’m here to talk it through with no judgment.