
Hey there — I know stepping into personal coaching or healing work can feel like a big step. There’s often a mix of hope and hesitation, and if you’re here reading this, you’ve already taken the first brave step toward something meaningful. That matters.
I’ve spent more than two decades working with people — listening, encouraging, and helping them find their way back to themselves. I’ve always been deeply curious about what makes us connect, why we sometimes lose that connection, and how we can find our way home again. At my core, I just really love people. I love our messiness, our tenderness, our fire — all of it.
I’m also neurodivergent — I have autism and ADHD — which means I’ve spent my whole life tuned in to the quiet spaces between people, the places where connection gets tangled or goes silent. And as a queer lesbian who came out later in life, I know what it’s like to hold complicated feelings, to navigate big identity shifts, and to slowly, sometimes clumsily, learn to belong to myself.
I chose somatic work because I believe healing doesn’t just happen in the mind— it happens in the body. Talk therapy can be powerful, but for many of us, it only scratches the surface. Somatic sexology and trauma healing bring the body back into the conversation. That’s where the real magic happens — in the sensations, the breath, the softening, the places where we can finally exhale and be fully ourselves.
My work is about helping people feel at home in their own skin again — to reconnect with desire, build safer and more honest relationships, and bring their whole selves to the table. I meet people where they are, without judgment, with curiosity, warmth, and a whole lot of heart.
This isn’t about “fixing” you. It’s about walking with you as you meet the parts of yourself that have been waiting to be felt — the gooey, tender, powerful parts that make you you.
Trust is like love. Both parties have to feel it before it really exists.
~Simon Sinek

Between Me and You
When we meet, you don’t have to perform, protect me, or hold anything back. You never have to protect me from your emotions. I can hold whatever comes up — not because I’m superhuman or unshakeable but because I trust my own nervous system. If I’m moved, I don’t hide it. That’s part of how I show up with authenticity with you and how I model safety in the room.
You don’t have to worry that your feelings will be “too much.” If you’ve spent a lifetime holding it all in because you’re afraid that if you open the gate it’ll all, come rushing out — I understand that fear. We go slowly. We’ll take gentle steps into the deeper places, never faster than your body’s readiness.
If you’re unsure what you’re feeling, can’t name your needs, or wonder why your boundaries keep getting crossed — I’ll be your true north. I’ll tell you what I sense in your presence, gently but directly, modeling how to share truth with compassion. And as you learn to trust me, you’ll also start learning to trust yourself.
Something important I want you to know:
you’re not broken
My work is experiential, not diagnostic. I am not trying to fix you. I’m not analyzing your emotions, I am feeling them with you. We’re not here to “unpack everything” or chase catharsis. I actively help you modulate the natural pendulation of your emotions so you can move through experiences safely, not get stuck in them. If you need to learn regulation skills first, we’ll practice. If things start to move too fast, I’ll help bring us back to neutral. I am always holding the pacing with care.
This work isn’t about dumping everything out and sorting through it. It’s coached with intention, with timing, and gentle attuned titration according to how your body is responding. If your brain needs to understand what is happening in order to quiet down, I’ll explain the science. And if you just want to feel your way through it, we’ll do that too. You don’t have to know the language — your body already speaks it.
I prefer to think of my [clients]and myself
as fellow travelers.
A term that abolishes distinctions
between ‘them’ (the afflicted) and
‘us’ (the healers).
We are all in this together and
there is no therapist and