For the first sixteen years of my life, I lived in what I can only describe as spiritual warfare—an altered state of consciousness shaped and forced by chaos. Both of my parents were heavily dependent on drugs, alcohol, and pills, leaving me surrounded by darkness I couldn’t name, explain, or escape. Night after night, I was attacked by forces that felt bigger than me.

At seventeen, I left high school and went straight into college—not out of ambition, but survival. Staying in my childhood home any longer would have cost me my life. Yet leaving didn’t bring relief. Instead, I was pulled deeper into the medical system, cycling through over a dozen prescriptions and a diagnosis of C-PTSD.

One medication led to another: antidepressants, then anti-anxiety drugs, migraine pills, anti-seizure medicine, birth control, and hormone treatments. Each prescription stacked on top of the last, and still, nothing worked. I prayed. I went to therapy. I even joined clinical trials alongside army veterans. Still, the weight didn’t lift.

In 2012, after losing both a pregnancy and my first marriage, I turned to kambo, a sacred frog medicine known for its purgative power. The ceremony was the most excruciating experience of my life—but it cracked something open. With eight weeks of spiritual counseling at an ashram, I came off all but two of my medications. And in that space, I received a message: part of my mission was to spread awareness of alternative healing modalities.

That was the beginning of my quest.

Over the last fifteen years, I have unraveled my corporate technologist past and immersed myself in lineages and traditions across the globe—from Russia to Mexico, Peru to Hawaii. I have studied in Sikh temples, practiced moving Kundalini energy, journeyed with shamans, sat in plant medicine ceremonies, and trained in breathwork, yoga, herbalism, reiki, hypnosis, and emotional release work.

It took me years to realize that my ability to communicate with plants, animals, and subtle energies wasn’t something everyone could do. It was something I had carried since childhood, only now I had the tools to use it in service.

Today, I weave these practices to support others on their own healing journeys. Much of my work lies in creating the “order of operations” for transformation—helping people see what’s next, holding space for their becoming, and walking with them through the fire until they emerge on the other side.

I’ve been called a healer, a shaman, a medicine woman, even a witch doctor. I don’t know if what I do has a single name.

What I do know is this: I chose to rewrite my story, and now I guide others as they write theirs.