The hardest things I've lived through are the reason I'm good at this work.
Not in spite of them. Because of them.
The Long Way Here
I grew up in the Santa Cruz Mountains. My parents were drug addicts. My mom left when I was young. My siblings got split up, and I was the oldest — which meant a lot of things, most of them came with the word responsible attached, before I had any business carrying that word.
I grew up fast. I learned how to read a room before I could read a book. I learned how to take care of people, how to keep things moving, how to look like everything was fine. Those are real skills. They got me through. They also cost me a lot before I knew what they were costing.
For most of my adult life, working harder was my answer to everything. Something off? Work harder. Something hurting? Work harder. Most people who knew me would have said I had my shit together — and by a lot of measures, I did.
I built a career. Twenty-seven plus years of leadership across retail, hospitality, and law firm operations. Running businesses. Developing teams. Holding a lot at once. I raised kids — that's its own complicated chapter I'm not going to pretend was tidy. I built a life that looked, from the outside, like someone who had figured it out.
But I knew. There was always this thing underneath that knew there was more — and I couldn't reach it from the place I was reaching from.
What I Do Now
The shift didn't happen all at once. It built.
It built through realizing that the unconscious patterns from childhood had been driving my car for a lot of miles. It built through the body work, the nervous system work, the inner work that doesn't fit on a LinkedIn bio. It built through doing the actual work — slow, real, often uncomfortable.
And it built through this thought I kept coming back to: if it took me this long to find this, what would it have meant to find it sooner?
That's when I knew. The work I do now exists so other people don't have to take the long way around.
I work with capable, accomplished people who know something is off and are ready to find out what's underneath it. People who've been holding it together on the outside for a long time. People who are ready to stop performing and start actually living the life they've been working so hard to build.
The work is one part nervous system, one part strategy, one part truth-telling. I'll push when pushing is right. I'll pull back when it's not. And I'll tell you the truth — even when it's the harder thing to say.
If You Recognize Yourself in Any of This
If you grew up holding more than you should have. If you've been working hard for a long time and can feel that the working harder isn't working anymore. If you know something needs to change and don't know what — this work is for you.
You're not behind. You're not broken. You've just been carrying things you didn't know you were allowed to set down.
The work is finding out which ones.
The Roots
My Nana is woven into all of this. She introduced me to philosophy, creativity, meditation, and the belief that life itself is an unfolding work of art — long before I had words for any of it.
The roots that made me are the roots of this work.