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 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.

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 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.

Resilience, the ability to adapt and bounce back from adversity, is an essential skill in the modern world. Some people appear naturally resilient. If that's not you, the good news is you can cultivate resilience through conscious effort and intentional practices. Building resilience enables you to navigate setbacks, grow from challenges, and maintain a sense of purpose in the face of uncertainty. Growing resilience requires self-awareness, self-regulation, optimism, self-compassion and a growth mind-set to name a few. I have gone through the twists and turns that life presents: family disintegration, child-estrangement, physical challenges , job and career loss. Though it was rocky, I survived and ultimately thrived. Certain practices strengthen your ability to cope with stress and to recover from setbacks. They foster growth and adaptation. Let’s navigate your current setback(s) together. Let me be your co-pilot in discovering skills you don't yet know you have.

In 2023, my brother’s partner tragically passed away, leaving behind two young children. This loss has been incredibly challenging, but it has also given me insight into grief, family dynamics, and resilience. While managing my own grief, I also helped support my niece and nephew, who were only 3 and 4 years old at the time. It was heartbreaking to witness their pain and confusion, but it also showed me the importance of providing a steady and supportive presence during such a difficult time. In the midst of this, I also made the tough decision to go low-contact with my parents due to long-standing unresolved issues. Navigating both the grief of losing my brother’s partner and the tension in my family has shaped how I approach relationships and conflict. I've learned the importance of boundaries, self-compassion, and resilience. I now have a deeper understanding of how grief and family dynamics can impact not only those who are grieving but also the relationships that remain. Through this experience, I hope to be a source of support for others who are facing similar challenges.

When I was 27, I was diagnosed with soft tissue sarcoma in my right thigh. After radiation, surgery, and chemotherapy, I was cancer-free. Due to so much of my muscle tissue being removed, I joke that I no longer have a quad muscle, but a "throd." This was especially difficult for me as I had run several marathons and was training for the New York Marathon when I got my diagnosis. I was engaged and ended up not postponing the wedding, and I am bald in my wedding photos. My wedding vows included a joke: "I'm sick and poor, so I know you are not lying when you agree to these vows." After I recovered, I started running again, and 5 years later, my leg broke due to the bone being weakened by the radiation. I had to go through multiple surgeries, receiving a bone graft from my hip and a pin in my leg. For a long time, I was angry and full of self-pity, but I realized that I could not change my circumstances, and once I accepted it, I was able to draw strength from the experience.

Life has challenged me in many ways: navigating divorce, raising 2 children as a single parent, experiencing job loss, and facing burnout. There were times I felt overwhelmed and stuck, unsure how to move forward amid so much change. What helped me most were honest moments of being truly heard, developing steady wellness routines, and learning to be patient with myself through the process. My experience as a doctor and trained listener deepened my understanding of how powerful it is to simply show up with care and attention. Now, I want to offer that same steady, compassionate presence to anyone facing similar struggles. Whether it’s relationship changes, family transitions, career shifts, or the feeling of being stuck,- I’m here to listen, support, and help you find your way forward, one conversation at a time

Forgiveness wasn’t easy for me. I carried so much pain—toward people who had hurt me, and maybe more than anyone, toward myself. For a long time, I couldn’t let go of the guilt, the shame, and the anger I had buried deep. I thought that if I forgave, I’d be letting others off the hook… or denying the damage that had been done. But when I began my recovery journey, I realized that forgiveness wasn’t about them. It was about me. It was about setting myself free from the weight of the past so I could heal and move forward. Through forgiveness therapy, self-reflection, and deep inner work, I learned how to release old emotional burdens. I forgave my past self for coping the only way I knew how at the time. I forgave others for not showing up the way I needed. And with that, something beautiful happened: I created space for peace, joy, and self-love to take root. Forgiveness became one of the most transformational parts of my recovery. It helped me break free from the cycle of resentment, shame, and emotional pain.

I’ve always been someone who could read people well, so I never imagined I’d fall into the grip of a love-bombing relationship. But about six months ago, I did. What began as a whirlwind of affection quickly turned into emotional manipulation. He filled up my time, isolated me with subtle lies, and made me question my instincts. Even when I started noticing red flags like gaslighting, control, emotional withdrawal, I doubted myself. It was only after talking things out with friends and family that I began to see things clearly. Their support gave me the space to breathe, reflect, and realize that I deserved better. Walking away from that situation was hard, but it helped me build emotional resilience and recognize the power of community. I now understand how easily these patterns can sneak in, even when you think you're too aware for that to happen. If you’re feeling confused, stuck, or unsure after a manipulative relationship, I’ve been there. Let’s talk it out together, there is clarity on the other side.

Practicing my creativity rooted to me deep ancestral healing and nourishment, the core of myself so infinite and eternal it couldn't be touched, and gave me the strength to branch out towards connecting with my personal experience with the Divine with which I dialogue (everyone has their own unique experience). Art gave me a "why," when I didn't think I could survive the "how," as I survived multiple forms of abuse, neglect, bullying, abandonment, ableism, and torture, in settings from preschool, to childhood home, to abusive workplaces. Art became my sanctuary that no one could touch when I had nowhere to go, I went within and connected with my Divine in dialogue with my artistic process. It got me through and taught me that hope is radical. Art became my personal liberation, reconnecting myself to something that could never be broken or stolen, when I felt violated on every level; and it helped me see the liberation we can co-create when we tap into and share this process.

My mother used me as emotional life support while feeding me to predators. My father's rage taught me I was alone in the universe. for a while I felt like I was born just to be their therapist, connected by a metaphorical reverse umbilical cord that left me drained, debilitated, and vulnerable. Constantly pouring into everyone else the mothering that I never experienced firsthand, and it destroyed my mental and physical health. When I realized no one was coming to save me, I began the sacred work of self-nurture and self-advocacy. I've learned to offer my inner child what I yearned for: wise guidance, protection, validation, kindness, celebration of my existence, acknowledgment and meeting of my needs from body, mind, to spirit. I've become the safe harbor I desperately sought, the fierce protector and tender nurturer of all my wounded parts and an advocate for others in vulnerable positions. Feeling this inner security and self-trust, I feel more resilient and can rely on myself.

I’ve witnessed addiction from both the outside and the edges—close enough to feel the heartbreak, the fear, the waiting, and the deep desire for someone you love to come back to themselves. I’ve supported family members who struggled with drug use and eventually found recovery. I’ve walked beside a partner through alcoholism, holding space for both the chaos and the courage it took to get sober. Addiction doesn’t just affect the person using—it ripples out into every relationship, often in painful and complicated ways. Whether you're the one trying to quit or someone who’s watching someone you love disappear into a version of themselves that feels unrecognizable, the journey is full of hard questions. When do you step in? How do you hold boundaries with love? What does it look like to forgive—yourself or someone else? I’ve seen the beauty of recovery, and I’ve seen the setbacks. I know how isolating it can feel, and I also know you don’t have to face it alone. Whether you’re in the thick of it or healing from what’s already happened, this space is for you.

Growing up in an abusive home, I struggled for years to find my footing in the world. I married young, endured multiple miscarriages, and battled significant postpartum depression after my children were born. When my youngest needed spinal surgery as a baby, I lived in fear, unable to fully bond with him at first. After my divorce, I navigated co-parenting challenges with resilience and eventually became a foster parent, experiencing both deep connection and heartbreaking loss. In parallel, I fought to find the right mental health support, battling cPTSD, dissociative amnesia, and daily anxiety. After years of mismatched care, I finally found a counselor and a medication plan that helped me build true stability. Now, I use my experience working in mental health crisis response to help others find safety, support, and hope during their own storms. I believe healing is possible — even when it feels far away.

How do you break a cycle you don’t even know you’re in? For years, I was surviving - battling addiction, homelessness, and complex trauma while raising my kids. I thought doing the opposite of my parents was enough, but how can you build a stable house without a sturdy foundation, quality materials, proper tools, and a reliable crew? It wasn’t until my life fell apart that I realized the irony: I was trying to give my children something I’d never seen or experienced myself. When I realized all of the ways I’d failed them, the guilt was crushing, but I kept showing up. Recovery has been messy, exhausting, and painful at times, but I’ve found that all these years of healing and parenting while struggling to survive have given me something powerful: the ability to hold space for others without judgement. I know something went right somewhere because at 18 and 23 my kids share their joys and ask me for advice. Now I want to help other parents build roadmaps and break cycles.

After losing the love of my life, I realized this grief was different from previous losses. It felt like my life was a beautiful vase shattered into a hundred pieces. I tried to pick them up and put them back together, but I couldn’t do it alone. Some pieces were too far away, others didn’t fit, and I was frustrated and in despair. That’s when I accepted the love and help offered by those around me. Others could reach pieces I could not and helped me fit them back together. Together, we created a new vase—different but functional and ready to be used again. I learned not to be too proud to accept help because I wouldn’t have gotten up without it. Wisdom, I found, is simply knowledge gained through life’s hardest experiences. Prior to the death of my Wife, I had experienced the loss of my parents and other close family members. But they were no more than a punch in the gut. You fall down, sit for a bit, get up and go again. My Wifes loss was completely different. It was as if my life was a beautiful vase that had fallen to the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces. I had to sit down and try gathering the pieces and try putting them back together again. Needless to say, I could not seem to do it by myself. Some pieces were too far away. I could not figure out how to make other pieces fit together. i was frustrated and in despair but that is when i realized how much love and help i had around me and I accepted this gift. Some people could reach the pieces that i could not reach and brought them back to me. Others had the ability to fit pieces back together that i could not do. By drawing on our strengths together we were able to create a new vase which is functional and ready for use again. Do not ever be too proud to accept the help that good people want to shelter you with. I would have not been able to get off the floor again if it wasn't for the help and love given to me by others. Wisdom is nothing more than knowledge gained through life's experiences.

I grew up in a home where religion was strong and drugs were never around, so I never thought addiction would be part of my story. But after a car accident in 2019, I was prescribed pain medication and found myself caught in a cycle I couldn’t seem to break. As a newly single mom to three kids, I knew I needed to find a way out. A trusted friend suggested medicinal marijuana, and with that, plus support, CBD, and physical therapy, I was able to finally get off all substances. It wasn’t easy — I had to figure out so much on my own, diving into books, podcasts, and eventually going back to school for psychology to better understand healing and growth. Through all the challenges, I found a new version of myself: stronger, happier, and more resilient than ever. I would love to walk with you if you're trying to break free, rebuild your life, and find your own strength again.

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

I've experienced many setbacks in my lifetime but I'll share my most recent one and how I turned it into a greater comeback. I was a passenger in a ride share car accident on June 28th. It turned into a three month recovery with a back fracture amongst other injuries. The surgery was too high risk, so doctors refused to do it. Instead, I had to pace myself as I recovered, starting with the first month of mostly bedrest and walking. Gradually, I began walking more and adding swimming and doing basic level yoga exercises. Over time I increased my time with each type of exercise. I felt limited and frustrated initially. But I found a yoga book that showed all kinds of positions I could try and exercises I could do, even at basic level. I also started walking laps not only at the gym but sometimes at the mall or outdoors at parks and nature trails. I also added water aerobics in addition to swimming in addition to relaxing in the hot tub. I completely recovered without one steroid shot.