My Story

I didn’t set out to be a coach.

For most of my early life, I was just trying to figure out how to feel okay. I grew up in an environment where love, connection, and even my sense of self often felt conditional—where approval seemed tied to how I showed up, how I behaved, or how well I adapted to what was expected of me. I learned pretty early on to read the room, to adjust, to become who I thought I needed to be in order to be accepted.

At times that meant being agreeable. Other times it meant being impressive, funny, or self-reliant. The common thread was that I was constantly calibrating—trying to get it right, trying to feel okay, trying to earn something that never quite felt stable. On the outside, I was doing what I could to fit in. On the inside, I felt disconnected, different, and often alone.

As I got older, that disconnect didn’t go away—it just got louder. What started as a vague sense of “something’s off” turned into something harder to ignore. I wasn’t just uncomfortable—I was struggling.  I developed many self-destructive coping patterns—many of them turned into addictions.  It nearly cost me my life.  Then I hit a turning point, or what others might refer to as a bottom.

I started searching for something that would make it make sense. I tried a lot of different paths: therapy, recovery, spiritual practices, personal development, relationships, achievements. Some of it helped. A lot of it didn’t.

There were real periods of relief—especially in recovery—where things stabilized and I felt like I was finally getting somewhere. And I was. But those moments didn’t fully hold. There were also periods where things got pretty dark again. From the outside, it might not have always looked that way, but internally it felt chaotic, heavy, and at times overwhelming. 

I made a lot of progress, but even when things were “working,” there was still this persistent feeling that something deeper wasn’t being touched.

Eventually, that search led me into deeper work—work that wasn’t just about thinking differently, but actually feeling what was underneath everything I had been avoiding. For the first time, I experienced what it was like to stay present with my emotions instead of analyzing or escaping them—and to have that experience witnessed by someone who could actually hold space for it. That changed something fundamental in me.

From there, I kept going. I trained, I practiced, I spent thousands of hours in coaching environments and personal work. I began having stable realizations, connections, and lasting feelings of joy and contentment.  I learned the language for what I had already been experiencing—parts work, emotional processing, relational dynamics—but more importantly, I continued to live it. This wasn’t just something I studied. It was something I was in.

And just when I thought I had figured it out, another layer showed up. The deeper relational work. Attachment patterns. The ways I still protected myself in connection without even realizing it. I experienced a level of intimacy and vulnerability that I didn’t even know I was avoiding—and it challenged me in ways that nothing else had.

There were times where it felt like everything I thought I understood fell apart—even after years of doing the work, even after reaching what felt like real stability and clarity. This is the kind of work that doesn’t get talked about much. The kind where you realize that insight doesn’t make you immune to deeper layers of pain, and that healing isn’t a straight line—it unfolds in ways you can’t always predict or control.

It was disorienting, humbling, and at times overwhelming. But it also revealed something important: I wasn’t starting over—I was going deeper than I expected. That part of the journey is still ongoing.

Which brings me to now.

I’m not someone who has it all figured out. I’m someone who has done a lot of work, continues to do that work, and has learned how to navigate it in a way that actually creates change. The work I do with clients comes directly from that lived experience—not from a script, not from a formula, but from being in it myself.

If you’ve done the work and still feel like something isn’t clicking, I get it. That’s exactly where this work begins.

How I Work

The way I work is simple in concept, but not always easy in practice.

Most people don’t need more information. They’ve read the books, done the workshops, talked through their past. What’s often missing is the ability to actually experience what’s underneath all of that—and to stay with it long enough for something to shift.

That’s where I come in.

I don’t try to fix you, and I don’t try to give you answers. I help you access your own experience in real time—your thoughts, your emotions, your patterns—and create a space where you can actually feel and work through what’s there.

In practice, that can look like slowing things down in the moment, tracking what’s happening in your body, noticing the different “parts” of you that show up, and staying with an emotion all the way through instead of analyzing or bypassing it. It’s not about pushing or performing—it’s about creating the conditions where something real can happen.

A lot of the work is relational. A lot of it is emotional. And a lot of it is learning how to trust your own internal guidance instead of constantly looking outside yourself for the next answer.

If you’ve been stuck in cycles of insight without change, this is usually the missing piece.

If you want a more detailed breakdown of the process, you can read more on the Coaching page.

Credentials & Experience

I am a Certified Alchemy Mental Health Coach and have spent over 3000 hours facilitating and participating in deep, experiential group work—supporting others through emotional, relational, and transformational processes.

I hold a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology from Rollins College (Summa Cum Laude), and I am a certified Hatha yoga instructor (CYT-200), with additional experience in breathwork, meditation, and experiential healing practices.

My background also includes years of involvement in recovery communities and real-world experience supporting people through addiction, trauma, and major life transitions.

Most importantly, my work is grounded in years of direct, lived experience—both in my own process and in supporting others through theirs.

Outside the Work

Outside of this work, I’m a lifelong music nerd who plays guitar and bass, a roller coaster enthusiast, and someone who still loves getting lost in a good tabletop campaign as a Dungeon Master.

I take the work seriously—but I don’t take myself too seriously. There’s room here for depth, intensity, and real healing… and also for humor, play, and being fully human.

If that means blasting music, riding coasters, or occasionally breaking into something that looks suspiciously like jazz hands at 3am… so be it.