My life as an intuitive coach didn’t start the way most therapists begin their career, or maybe they do. What I do know is my story began as a Jehovah Witness on the back roads of Pennsylvania. 

I spent much of my childhood living in dual realities. Perhaps even three. One was my mother, the anointed Jehavah Witness, the other my father, who was by all accounts a sociopath and did sociopathic things (you’ll have to read the book for those stories). Then there’s the third. I didn’t know it at the time but I was having psychic encounters. I saw an angel standing over my bed one night. Another time, I would hear footsteps leading to my room or my bed would violently shake. I would become frightened, I’d stay awake all night with sweat running down my face listening and feeling all the sensations around me. I didn’t understand what it meant but I knew it wasn’t normal or of this world. 

Growing up, I experienced abuse from both parents, each  believed their level of punishment was correct and I was the “bad” child. I was beat with a belt every day, raped at times and verbally assaulted. I buried myself in music when it all became too much for my childhood brain to sustain 

When I became sixteen, I was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor. This turned my  world upside down. For a week, not knowing I had a brain tumor, I went blind, lost twelve pounds,  projectile vomited when I ate and had headaches so severe I would scream if I moved my head. The day my mother took me to the hospital, I had had a stroke the night before and woke up to half my face being numb. She reprimanded me for being sick, had me lay down in the front seat of her car, gave me a McDonald’s fry to chew on and took me to her place of work. I didn’t last five minute and insisted I go to the hospital. A very angry mother drove me to the ER, convinced I had made the whole situation up.  A cat-scan revealed I had a glioma tumor in the front left ventricle.

For the next forty eight hours, beginning on a Saturday, doctors and nurses would continually check on me to make sure I was still alive. I was told I needed five neurologists to put a shunt in that would give me six more weeks of life. Unfortunately, all neurologists were out until Monday and I wouldn’t make it. For the next two days, over two hundred people came to see me to say their goodbyes. Even the boy from my congregation whom I had had a crush on (he would never speak to me again after this week). 

Needless to say, I made it to Monday and received a shunt. What was to take three hours, took close to ten. I had died on the table. Later, when my parents were out of the room, my doctor told me it was a tough surgery. They put the shunt in wrong but it would work long enough to buy me some time. However, he wanted to know if they could do experimental surgeries on me to save other children since I was going to die anyway. He explained I would be awake for the procedure. They would cut my skull in four, like the plus sign, open me up and go into my brain. This would be done five times, each time I would be awake. If I went deaf or blind the procedure was over. I looked at him and said, “No. One of us believes in God and one of us doesn’t.” With that, he left. My father came into the room and I told him with an IV in each arm, metal stitches in my head and a hospital gown, “take me to Wendy's, I need a single.” And we did. The nurses screamed at me and my father for leaving. But hey! You have one life. I knew even then, it’s about the moments and not to waste one second. In that second, I wanted a Single and I got it. So did my bed a few hours later.

My tumor stopped growing after the shunt. That didn’t mean I was 100%. In fact, I wasn’t. To the point, I couldn’t make it to the Kingdow Hall. I could barely pick up a spoon. My body was depleted of energy. That cute boy, he deemed me too worldly to socialize with. My best friend told me she would never talk to me and the congregation turned their back on me. 

I would eventually leave the Jehovah Witnesses and with it came a grand shunning from family and friends. It became a pivotal moment in my life. I had been searching for truth in God, religion and myself. The Witnesses couldn’t handle me being sick and forced me to disassociate myself and the elders couldn’t handle my questions. I was asked to meet an elder at his house. When my mother and I arrived, he brought me in and locked my mother outside. At least ten elders sat all around a dining room table and told me I couldn’t leave until I wrote a disassociation letter. After an hour of crying and pleading (I had planned to be a missionary for the congregation), I wrote the letter and with that changed the course of my life.

Fast forward to now, I spent many years searching for who I was, where I fit in and dealing with the grief of losing my entire life when I was shunned. I had to start over but had no idea how to do so. My childhood left me not knowing how to strive for the life I always wanted or to even know what that was.  I was raised with the belief, I would never die and live in a paradise on earth. That school, dreams and money were not to be strived for, only Jehovah. My parents taught me love hurts, it abuses and everyone is out to harm me. It was a hard road to navigate. 

I took one day at a time. I journaled, I started my own business, I went to college later in life. I spent time figuring out who I was. After graduating Harvard with a degree in psychology and writing.  I started my masters but stopped to pursue a career in screen writing in Hollywood. I loved it! I was also about to have a spiritual awakening. 

A friend asked me if I wanted to see a medium, I had no idea what a medium was but said yes. A few minutes later, I felt a presence and he yelled his name in my face. I was in shock. I was instantly awakened to the spirit world. I thought I was insane. My mother is schizophrenic and assumed I was suffering the same fate. I saw the medium and the spirit came through. I was fully awakened to the spirit world and what a whirl wind of a journey it has been. 

For the next few years, I discovered who I was. In the process, I healed childhood wounds, discovered my own psychic abilities and combined them with my coaching. I added in writing to further healing growth. 

Now, I’m healed and help heal others from their own trauma. It’s not always about trauma. Sometimes, we become stuck in our own ways and don’t know where to begin. This is where I come in. I guide you to a more fulfilling life. The life you came here to experience. If there is trauma you need to heal along the way, we will work through that and get you on the other side of healing. There is no right or wrong path to this thing we call living but in each of us lies a DNA code of why we are here. Why we go through the lessons we go through and how to activate those lessons into living our best soul, spirit and earthly life.