I got married at a young age to someone who was nine years my senior. The person I married was someone who was a privileged individual who couldn't see eye to eye with me on many issues, topics, and ways of being. After the divorce, I realized that a great portion of my life had slipped through my fingers, and I lost myself. Before marriage, I was involved in numerous creative activities where I felt free. When my ex moved out, every emotion imaginable welled up in me. I felt like I could breathe while grieving the absence of items that I had become accustomed to seeing every day. Once I moved past the grieving stage, I found myself engaging in hobbies and activities that lifted my spirit. I also grieved the person I was before marriage. She is still in me, but she is older, wiser, and more resilient.

I grew up believing that strength meant being able to take harsh words, pressure, and negativity without breaking. If I crumbled under cruel or brutal talk, I thought it meant I was weak. Over time, I internalized that message and spoke to myself in the same harsh way, thinking it would make me stronger. But instead, it wore me down and made me feel small. Through practice, I’ve learned that positive self-talk isn’t weakness—it’s courage. Choosing to speak to myself with compassion instead of criticism has helped me build true resilience and self-acceptance. Now, I use gentle, encouraging words to remind myself that I am worthy, capable, and human. Practicing positive self-talk has been a big part of how I continue to heal and grow, and it’s something I’m passionate about sharing with others.

I grew up being taught that I should be abstinent until marriage and if I don't I would get an std, HIV/AIDS, or get pregnant. Best case scenario, my life would be over or Worst case scenario, you know, worse would happen. The only thing I was taught about when you are allowed to have sex was that a woman had the obligation to please her man. I didn't just hear those messages from religious environments but the media too. It made me feel deep shame about who I was growing to be. Ashamed about every part of who I was. At a young age, I really felt in my spirit that abstinence until marriage was not for me. It just didn't make sense to me, but that doesn't mean that the shame, blame, oppression, voicelessness, and fear that came from those teachings didn't stay. I still believe in God, but I also believe that God doesn't need me to be oppressed & oblivious to love me. So I decided that I wanted to embrace & discover who I was as a sexual being outside of the desires of a sexual partner.

My passions for positive self-imagery and a healthy self-love were birthed out of my own struggles with low self-esteem, a lack of self-worth and poor self-imagery. It took years for me to find my identity and purpose, and has made me empathetic to those who experience the same. I believe I am meant to help others through such struggles, as well as other things related to those struggles, including personal goals, relational boundaries, and goal setting (including feeling capable and worthy of achieving those goals). Along with a passion for helping others, I also have a knack for efficiency and a commitment to excellence. For that reason, I obtained my life coaching certification in 2014, with concentrations in life, relationships, wellness and bereavement. With my combination of experience, passion and training, I am here to support you the best way I can.

For years, I tied my value to how others saw me, especially in familial and romantic relationships. I experienced emotional abuse that slowly chipped away at my self-esteem. I became overly accommodating, confused love with approval, and didn’t know how to speak up for myself. I reached a point where I hardly recognized myself. My healing began when I stopped looking outside myself for validation and started listening inward. Through prayer, therapy, journaling, and lots of reflection, I learned how to love the woman I was becoming. I became certified in life and relationship coaching because I wanted to give others what I wish I had—someone to remind them of their worth when they can’t see it. I also created a support group for women where we talked honestly about self-image, boundaries, and joy. I realized that so many of us are silently struggling with how we see ourselves. Now, I live with clarity, peace, and a deep love for who I am, and I want to help others experience the same.

I grew up as a stepchild in a home where love felt scarce. My stepmother’s neglect left me with deep wounds—low self-worth, anxiety, and the belief that my value came from pleasing others. At 17, I moved out on my own, learning resilience but also carrying constant fear of making the wrong move. Later, as a single mother, I felt even more pressure to get life right while silently battling the patterns I didn’t know how to break. For 17 years, I pursued self-development, went back to school, and committed to deep inner healing. Today, I’ve transformed my past into power. My daughter lives a life filled with love and safety I once only dreamed of, and I’ve learned to create freedom from the inside out. Now I help women do the same—healing old wounds, reclaiming their worth, and stepping into lives filled with joy, possibility, and self-trust.

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.

Through years of mental rewiring, I practice mindful living. This comes with the often loud voice of self-awareness, as well as presence and acceptance. Mindfulness is the difference between mindlessly binge watching tv that harms your sleep to numb against upset, versus enjoying one cookie. And I obviously still struggle! Acceptance also involves loving your true self and knowing your worth. I'd love to share tips and challenges as we go on a mindful journey together.

There was a time in my life when everything felt paused. I was between jobs, unsure of my next step, watching others move forward while I sat still. People would say, “Something will come along,” but the waiting felt like slow erosion. My self-worth was tied to progress, and without it, I felt small. I learned how to sit with the discomfort, how to extract meaning from stillness, and how to build a life that didn’t depend on a clear next chapter. I began to ask myself deeper questions about purpose, identity, and what truly mattered.

I've often felt like an outsider in social settings. I’d overthink every word I said, replay conversations later, and wonder if I came off as “too quiet,” “too intense,” or just... off. Parties drained me. Small talk felt like a performance. I used to beat myself up for not being more "normal" in groups. But slowly, I started to understand that awkward doesn’t mean unworthy. I began leaning into my natural rhythm—deep, thoughtful, intentional—and started forming fewer, but truer, connections.

My Story: There were long stretches when I didn’t have a job. The silence from applications was deafening. I felt like I was falling behind, especially when friends were getting promotions or buying homes. I tied my worth to my output—and when there was no output, I felt invisible. Eventually, I started asking myself: Who am I without the title? It was painful but liberating. I started separating my identity from productivity. Now, I hold space for others walking through that same fog.

After graduating college with a degree in TV and Radio Production, I packed up my life in NYC and moved to Los Angeles alone because that’s where dreams in TV are made. I didn’t know a soul, but within 7 days I found a beautiful apartment, bought a car, and landed my first job just around the corner from home. Still, navigating a new city wasn’t easy—and neither was working in TV. I bounced from freelance gigs to temp jobs just to keep the lights on. Eventually I returned to NYC to work for Viacom, then moved back to LA, then Atlanta, and later Nashville. Each time, I had to start over—find housing, build community, and figure life out all over again. It was lonely, uncertain, and at times terrifying. But it also taught me resilience, faith, and how to trust my ability to thrive anywhere. Moving taught me that starting over isn’t failure—it’s proof that you’re strong enough to begin again.

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.

Losing a job is profoundly disorienting. My job was more than a source of income and daily routine; it was my life, it defined me, was how I introduced myself. It was my social network, my family. I felt lost, confused and somehow like a really bad person. I discovered I had been in burnout mode and didn't know it. It felt catastrophic. I was in a fog....and the good news is you can wake up from that fog and take action. Like you are doing now: seeking help! There are strategies for coping with and overcoming these challenges. Reestablish routine, identify and organize your priorities. Taking time for self-assessment and self care gives you strength to manage yourself, making you a more attractive interviewee or entrepreneur. There's work to do to recreate yourself. That's what happened to me. I entered a career I'd never dreamed of, in an environment that draws on my intuition. Self-respect and confidence came quickly. This can happen to you. Let's explore it together

Living life as a strong, outspoken woman comes with its own set of challenges. Other women sometimes see me as competition instead of connection, and men have admitted I make them feel less than. For a long time, those reactions made me question myself, my femininity, and my place. But I’ve learned that being “alpha” isn’t a flaw — it just means I need to navigate relationships differently. I’ve found ways to claim my space, build trust with women, and still find the love, respect, and sisterhood I deserve.

Depression has been a silent shadow in my life. Sometimes heavy, sometimes barely visible, but always there. It’s the weight in my chest, the fog in my mind, the ache in my bones. It’s the exhaustion that sleep won’t fix, and the hollow feeling even when everything should feel okay. It’s more than sadness. It’s numbness. It’s guilt for not being able to “snap out of it.” It’s the quiet wondering if you’re ever going to feel like yourself again, or if you ever did. But here’s what I know now. Depression lies. It tells you you’re lazy, unlovable, or broken. But none of that is true. Through years of unraveling shame, surviving bad days, and holding on by the thinnest threads, I’ve come to know depression intimately. Not as a moral failure, but as a wound in need of care. If you’re tired, if you’re hurting, if you’re barely hanging on, I get it. I’m not here to push you toward false positivity. I’m here to sit with you in the real.

A few years ago, I went through a significant health shift that left me feeling physically exhausted, mentally drained, and emotionally overwhelmed. Between managing my health, hormonal imbalances, and the challenges that came with it, I found myself questioning what I was capable of and how to move forward. I had to find new ways of living, eating, exercising, and even thinking about myself in a way that prioritized my body’s needs and took into account my mental and emotional well-being. This transition was especially challenging as I navigated post-surgical recovery and the emotional impacts of major physical changes. But it also became an opportunity to deeply understand my body, learn how to care for it in a more balanced way, and discover new practices to restore my energy, vitality, and sense of self. Whether it’s a major health diagnosis, a hormonal shift like menopause, or any other physical change that’s throwing you off balance, I know how frustrating it can be to feel like you’re no longer in control of your own body. I’ve walked through this journey of reclaiming my energy, health, and mindset—and I’d love to help guide you through this new chapter, empowering you to trust your body, embrace the change, and move forward with a renewed sense of strength and confidence.

For much of my life, I struggled with imposter syndrome—feeling like I didn’t truly belong in spaces where I was achieving success. Despite my experience, accomplishments, and talents, I would often second-guess myself, thinking I wasn’t “enough” or that I was somehow faking my way through life. It wasn’t until I took a deeper look at my own fears and doubts that I realized how much of it was rooted in a deep sense of perfectionism and the unrealistic pressure I’d placed on myself to always be “the best.” Whether in the professional world, in relationships, or in my personal journey, I often found myself wondering if I was capable of truly owning my worth. Through years of self-reflection, counseling, and embracing the imperfection of growth, I’ve learned to identify the triggers of imposter syndrome and use them as stepping stones toward building authentic self-confidence. It wasn’t an overnight shift, but through acknowledging my doubts and learning to quiet them, I slowly started to embrace my true self without needing to be perfect. If you’ve ever felt like you were “faking it” or that you don’t deserve the success and opportunities in front of you, I’m here to help you break free from those self-limiting thoughts and walk alongside you in embracing the truth of who you really are.

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.

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.