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My story
How I actually got here
I became a truth-seeker at eight.
That's the year a kid in my aunt's neighborhood told me Santa wasn't real — and I wasn't sad about the presents. I was devastated that everyone was in on it but me.
That was the moment I started asking the question I've never stopped asking: if they'll lie about THIS… what else?
I'd love to tell you all that questioning made my life easy. It did not. 🤣
By nineteen, I'd lost my way badly enough to land in a 30-day recovery program. My sister and her husband took me in when I got out, and with their help I rebuilt my life from the ground up — and went on to graduate Summa Cum Laude.
I don't tell you that for sympathy. I tell you because it's the whole point of my work:
You are never the worst thing that happened to you. And you are never stuck in the story you were handed. I know, because I rewrote mine.
These days I put that same skill to work for other people — helping them hear what they already know, clear what's in the way, and take the next real step. (If you know Human Design: I'm a Projector. Seeing what you can't see from inside your own life is literally how I'm built.)
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