Here’s my story
A journey of building the life I thought I was supposed to want—and discovering it wasn’t the whole story.
What followed was a slow unfolding—a deeper relationship with myself, with what was true, and with God.
My life looked complete.
By my late twenties, I had done what I thought I was supposed to do.
College.
Career.
Marriage.
A baby.
And then one day, with that little life in my arms, a quiet thought arose:
Now what?
Something in me knew there had to be more to life than what I was living, even though I couldn't yet name what I was looking for.
That question became a turning point.
I left my marriage and began the slow, honest work of coming back to myself.
At the time, I thought I was searching for myself.
I didn't yet realize I was also searching for God.
And somehow, in the midst of that searching, I began to sense that something deeper was reaching for me, too.
During that season, I had an experience in meditation that changed everything.
It felt like being held by a love I had never known before—as if the presence of God had met me all the way through my body.
I couldn't explain it.
But I couldn't ignore it either.
Something in me had awakened.
I started following what felt alive.
The curiosity.
The longing.
The quiet pull toward what felt true.
I explored yoga, meditation, Reiki, somatic healing, and different spiritual teachers and traditions.
Somewhere along the way, my searching became a relationship with God—and a deeper relationship with myself.
I’m still learning what it means to live from both: to listen for God’s presence, to become more honest about what is true within me, and to trust the person I’m becoming.
And slowly, I began to understand that perhaps this wasn’t just my own work.
It was becoming the work I wanted to share with others, too.
To create space for women to slow down, listen deeply, come home to themselves, and explore what it means to live in relationship with God.
I know what it is to lose touch with yourself.
To move through life doing what seems right.
To care for what needs caring for.
To respond to what everyone else needs.
To become so accustomed to looking outward that you can lose track of what is happening within.
I've also learned that coming home to yourself doesn't necessarily mean changing everything.
Sometimes it begins much more quietly.
Pausing.
Listening to your body.
Noticing what you want and need.
Honoring your yes and your no.
Making room for the parts of yourself that have been asking for your attention.
And slowly, learning to trust what you hear—even when you don't yet know where it will lead.
This is my offering.
A space to slow down, listen deeply, and reconnect with what is true within you.
A space to tend your inner life, make room for your questions and desires, and explore your relationship with God.
I don't have all the answers. And I don't believe you need someone to tell you what your life should look like.
I believe there is wisdom in you worth listening to.
And I believe there is something sacred about making enough space to hear it.
That is the space I am here to hold.