What I thought I knew 

For a long time, I thought I knew exactly who I was. Spoiler alert: I did not.

I’m the youngest of five siblings, which means I learned early on how to adapt, fit in, and meet expectations. I wanted to be seen, understood, heard. I wanted to be loved.

So I followed the path that was laid out:  get good grades, get into college, pick a career early and stick to it. Do it all really, really well.

I worked my ass off for validation in whatever form I could find it. I tied my value to being a good daughter. Having a ton of friends. Being the teacher’s pet. Having boys like me.

And quietly, underneath all of that, were three unspoken rules:

Don’t do anything you might be bad at.  Avoid embarrassment at all costs. Take no risks. 

What I know now

Over the years, that mindset shaped my choices more than I realized.

I decided in middle school that I wanted to be a math teacher and stayed diligently on that “safe” path. Even when there was a pull to try on a major in anthropology, I didn’t stray – take no risks, remember?!  I networked, got a job, built a name for myself, and earned a strong reputation in the community. By all external measures, I was doing exactly what I was “supposed” to do.  But internally, I would drive to work wondering “Is this really all there is? Is this the rest of my life?”

What’s ironic is that the people closest to me will tell you I’m no-bullshit. I say what I think. I don’t sugarcoat things.  I hardly ever do anything I don’t want to do.  

And still, for a long time, my life was still shaped by choosing what felt safe, impressive, or validating instead of what actually fit.

I had created an identity that worked for me, and got very good at “succeeding” inside of those bounds.  In turn, I struggled to trust myself outside of them.

What changed?

I heard a life coach say, “You’ll start to make changes once you are finally sick of your own shit.”  My ears perked up.  I hadn’t thought about it like that, but I KNEW it was true.  Something had to change.  

So when I left teaching after six years, it wasn’t because I had failed. It was because I was finally confident enough in who I was—and what I was capable of—to step away from a path that was never truly mine and embark on a more authentic one.

I had a chance to rediscover myself, dig deep, and reflect on questions I never thought to ask.  I built a better relationship with myself, so that I could have better relationships with others. 

How I’m sharing what I’ve learned

It was my first life coach that gave me the tools I needed to embark on a new path with clarity and confidence.  To take the risks, face the potential embarrassment, learn to be bad at something, all for the possibility of experiencing something great. 

That’s the work I want to share with others. 

I am passionate about helping people build the kind of self-trust that lets them make their own choices, try new things, get uncomfortable, and move through the world without constantly second-guessing themselves. Because we all deserve to live a life where we can be curious, playful, and aligned with who we truly are, so that we can build a community of people we truly love.