My journey with substances began when I was fourteen. At the time, I was simply trying to fit in and escape the pain of being me. For years, I convinced myself I didn’t have a problem because I was “high functioning”—my home was spotless, my work performance was exceptional, and I cared for my children with love and consistency. I checked all the boxes that made me look fine on the outside.

But over time, recreational use turned into cycles of abuse. I still believed I was in control—until I met meth. That substance consumed me in a way nothing else ever had. It dictated my thoughts, my choices, and my priorities. The turning point came one ordinary morning while driving to work, when I caught myself thinking about what I’d be willing to do to get more. The images that flashed through my mind horrified me. That moment cracked something open inside me, and I quit cold turkey that same day.

Recovery didn’t magically make life easier. In fact, the hardest years came after I stopped using. I rebuilt myself from the ground up—only to lose my marriage, my community, my standing in my church, and the business I had poured myself into. I was rejected, misunderstood, and left to start over more than once. But each loss became a teacher. I learned to set boundaries, to trust myself, and to build a life rooted in authenticity rather than approval.

I became a student of my own mind and spirit. I studied meditation, journaling, neuroscience, and motivational psychology. I explored healing modalities that helped me understand the deeper roots of addiction. I traveled to Cambodia, where Reiki became a profound part of my life. I trained in Hatha Yoga in Michigan and later had an opportunity to teach it in Costa Rica. I learned to love myself—not the polished version the world sees, but the real me: the woman who dances in the rain, creates endlessly, feels deeply, and keeps getting back up.

My recovery has also been a family journey. I grew up in a home marked by alcohol misuse, violence, and trauma. As an adult, I navigated the complexities of loving someone in active addiction and raising children affected by it. My eldest daughter has struggled with her own substance use, and my youngest has shown remarkable resilience and compassion. I’ve learned that I cannot save anyone else—I can only love them, support them, and hold healthy boundaries while they walk their own path.

Today, I am an Addiction Recovery Coach, Reiki Master, and Yoga Instructor. I work from a trauma‑informed, holistic perspective, drawing not only on training but on lived experience. I know what it feels like to fall apart and rebuild. I know what it means to lose everything and still choose to rise. And I know that recovery is not about perfection—it’s about connection, curiosity, and the courage to take one small step at a time.

My mission is simple: to offer others the support I once needed. To create safe spaces for healing. To help people reconnect with themselves. To remind them that no matter how many times they fall, they can always rise again.

My life is proof that transformation is possible. That darkness can become a doorway. And that every person—no matter their past—can create a future rooted in hope, wholeness, and purpose.