I know what it’s like to live in a body that has carried too much for too long- surviving abuse, medical gaslighting, and the weight of systems that were never designed with my wellbeing and intersectional identity in mind. Always scanning for danger, pushing through pain, and fighting to survive. I learned how trauma, both personal and systemic, roots itself in the body and reshapes our nervous systems, our possibilities, and our sense of self. How it can slowly erode trust in the world.

But I also know the profound relief of reclaiming my authority over my care and identity. Because my story isn’t just hardship; it’s the intimacy of imperfectly learning my way back to myself. It’s listening to my body with radical honesty, grounding in collective care, breaking cycles of intergenerational harm, and drawing on the wisdom of those who came before me and fought for more than survival.

My healing began in subtle moments. A single unforced exhale, a softening in my shoulders, a flicker of returning trust. I learned to treat my body patiently, gently, and with awe. I came to understand how the nervous system holds memory, how tension can be a love letter from a younger self who kept me alive, and how to reclaim my healing after navigating so many spaces that promised care but reinforced harm.

There were seasons of unlearning messages that told me my body was wrong, my identity too much, my intuition unreliable. Seasons of reclaiming what oppression and harm tried to dim- my voice, my presence, my belonging. And feeling my body again, after so much bracing, felt nothing short of miraculous. It was the long inhale and drawn out exhale of realizing healing wasn’t about fixing myself in a broken world- it was about reclaiming myself amidst social truths. It was exploring the landscape of just how resilient and wise our bodies can be. I learned to feel my experience rather than endure it. This lived experience sparked a deep, embodied curiosity about how trauma shapes us and how to define our own healing path forward.

Healing is not linear. It’s relational, sensory, layered, and uniquely yours. Together, we listen for the parts ready to soften, the parts still protecting, and the parts longing to breathe more fully—so you can attune to that quiet, steady, powerful voice within you, ready to lead you forward.