My Story, Honestly
I don’t teach from theory... I teach from survival.
For years, I wore the mask, kept the peace, and did everything I could to look “fine.” I wasn’t. I’d buried a daughter, survived violence, and built a life that looked strong from the outside but was held together by exhaustion and silence.
Healing didn’t come from pretending it didn’t hurt. It came from telling the truth - to myself, first.
That’s what I help women do now. Not bypass their pain, but finally face it… and find their power on the other side.
How I Work
Healing isn’t a straight line. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes mean before it’s meaningful.
My work isn’t about fixing people. It’s about helping women stop running from what hurts, so they can finally face it, feel it, and move through it.
Together, we work on rebuilding self-trust, nervous system safety, and emotional accountability — the kind that turns survival mode into real peace.
Speaking
When I speak, I don’t perform.
I tell the truth. The kind that makes people shift in their seats, exhale, and finally say, “Me too.”
I don’t sugarcoat pain, and I don’t try to make it pretty.
I talk about the things most people avoid — grief, trauma, survival, and what it takes to build a life after all of it breaks.
My talks aren’t meant to inspire. They’re meant to wake people up.
To remind them that surviving isn’t the same as living, and that it’s never too late to start over — even when you don’t recognize yourself anymore.
Because I’ve been there.
I’ve buried a daughter.
I’ve rebuilt after abuse.
And I’ve stood on stages knowing that if I can tell the truth out loud, maybe someone else will find the courage to stop hiding theirs.
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Signature Talks:
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Grief Made Me Mean
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Thunder
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Because Surviving Isn’t the Same as Living
Writing
Stories that make people feel less alone
Coming Soon
Before I ever had the courage to stand on a stage, I wrote.
Writing was how I survived before I even understood what healing meant. It was the only place I could tell the truth when I wasn’t ready to say it out loud.
Now I write the kind of stories I needed when I was in the dark - the ones that don’t sugarcoat or tie everything up in a bow. They’re about grief, survival, rage, healing, and the messy, human moments that live in between.
