My Journey

I grew up in a warm, loving home — the kind of childhood I'm genuinely grateful for. And like so many of us, regardless of where we're from, I picked up some quiet messages along the way that had nothing to do with who I actually was. Messages about staying pleasing, staying agreeable, making sure whatever I wanted didn't inconvenience anyone else too much. I didn't question it for a long time. It was just the water I swam in.

I followed the rules faithfully. Master's degree in art history. Marriage to my college sweetheart. A beautiful baby daughter. A life that looked, from the outside, exactly right.

But underneath the pretty exterior, something wasn't working. My husband dreaded going to work every day. I felt heavy, anxious, quietly unfulfilled — doing so much out of obligation and so little out of genuine joy. We kept telling ourselves it would sort itself out if we just kept going.

We weren't prepared for what came next.

A few months after our daughter was born, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. He died two years later. I was twenty-nine years old, raising a child alone, and searching — with an urgency I'd never felt before — for something real to hold onto.

The Turning Point

Grief has a way of burning away everything that isn't essential.

But here's what I didn't expect: the turning point wasn't a dramatic moment of clarity. It wasn't a course I took or a teacher I found or a decision I made.

It was a moment of compassion. For myself.

About a year after my husband died, I hit a low point that cracked me wide open. And in that cracked-open place, something shifted — just enough for me to catch a glimpse of my own worthiness. My own gifts. My own potential.

It was the first time I'd been able to see clearly: there is something beautiful in here that I need to find, get curious about, and nurture.

Nothing had changed on the outside. But everything began to change after that moment.

I share this because that single glimpse — that small act of turning toward myself with compassion instead of criticism — was the seed of everything that followed. The rebuilding. The reclaiming. The life that slowly, then all at once, became genuinely my own.

It took time. When you're reweaving your creative energy from the inside out, it touches everything. But I can tell you with complete certainty that it is the most worthwhile journey you can embrace.

In the years that followed I found my way to the Berkshires in Massachusetts, where my daughter grew up surrounded by mountains and art and the kind of creative community that feels like coming home. I spent two decades going deep — studying, practicing, working with some of the most gifted teachers in energy work, intuitive development, and transformational coaching. I developed my own integrated approach to this work, shaped by everything I'd learned and everything I'd lived.

And then, in one of those full-circle moments that life occasionally offers, I was drawn back to the town where I grew up — back to the Deep South — to be closer to family. I didn't expect to also find love again. But in 2020 I married a wonderful man I've known since the fourth grade, and I've been quietly amazed ever since at the symmetry of it all. You really can't make this stuff up.

Where I Am Now

I'm back where I started — and I'm more myself than I have ever been.

Coming home has reminded me that the longing to live more fully, more creatively, and more aligned with who we actually are — that's not a particular kind of person thing. It's not a background thing or a belief system thing. It's a human thing. The desire to stop dimming your light, stop postponing your gifts, stop waiting for permission to be fully yourself — that's a soul-level yearning. I see it everywhere now. In every kind of community. Every kind of life. And it needs to be honored.

The South is telling itself a new story. I think that's exactly why I'm here.

My work — what I call Creative Soul Alchemy — is for anyone who senses there's more available to them than they've been able to access. Creative, intuitive, big-hearted people who have gifts they haven't fully claimed. People who are tired of feeling blocked, dimmed, or disconnected from the life they can almost imagine.

It draws on over two decades of study and practice in energy work, intuitive coaching, and transformational healing. It's not one borrowed framework. It's everything I've learned, integrated into something entirely my own, shaped by hundreds of client sessions and my own lived experience of doing exactly this work on myself.

At its heart, it comes down to this:

You have a unique creative energy — a specific set of gifts — that wants to move through your life. When it can, everything flows more easily. When it can't, everything feels harder than it should.

My work is to help you find that current, clear what's blocking it, and learn to live in genuine alignment with who you actually are.

You don't need any particular background or belief system to work with me. You just need to be curious, and a little bit ready.

If that's you — I'm so glad you found your way here.

A little more, if you're curious...

Over the years I've trained extensively in energy healing, intuitive development, akashic record work, Reiki, yoga, and several specialized coaching and clearing modalities. I've had the privilege of learning from remarkable teachers including Sonia Choquette, Aleya Dao, Colette Baron-Reid, Carolyn Myss, Marianne Williamson, and others whose work has shaped my own in ways I'm deeply grateful for.

But more than any certification or training, what shapes my work is this: I've lived it. The loss, the rebuilding, the clearing, the reclaiming. I know what it feels like to be stuck — and I know what it feels like when things finally start to move.

That's what I bring into every session.