How I Got Here | A Real Live Wire

I didn’t start out trying to become a coach.

I started exploring this work when I was completely fried.
Burned out.
Laid off.
Untethered in every direction.

I was emotionally stretched thin across every part of my life.
Things were unraveling behind the scenes in ways I didn’t always have language for.
The foundation of my personal life felt shaky.
And I was navigating hard things in my marriage — things I’m not going to unpack here, because they’re not just mine.
But they cracked me open in a way I couldn’t ignore.

I was also managing a health flare (again), and honestly?
I didn’t even know how to move forward.
It wasn’t just a tough stretch — it felt like my whole life was glitching.

So I took a yoga teacher training.

Not because I wanted to teach.
Because I wanted to deepen my practice. To find something steady to hold onto.

And I learned a lot.
I met some truly incredible people. I built friendships that made me feel safe in my body again.

That safety? It was magnetic.

As I got deeper, I discovered somatics.
Chakras.
The nervous system.

I started showing up on my mat not just trying to hold a pose or remember to breathe (which—lol, same),
but to actually make space for myself.

I felt my own hand resting on my chest — my heart center — and I wasn’t annoyed.
I was present.
It was working.

It wasn’t a cult. I promise.
But it was the first time in a long time I felt welcomed. Seen. Held. Curious again.

That’s when I started noticing it unfolding off the mat, too.

I began wondering if maybe this could be more.
Maybe I’d go back for my master’s in therapy?
But… I had no job, so the idea of a ton of student debt, and 3,000 clinical hours made me want to throw myself into a volcano. (Cue the lava graphic)

So I started playing around with the idea of coaching again. Toying with it.

Then I met Trish.
(Hi Trish, I haven’t formally asked, but surprise, you’re my mentor.)

While she was nursing me back to health from a back injury, she introduced me to the Polyvagal Institute.
And the moment she forwarded me an email about cohort enrollment, something in me snapped awake.

It. All. Fucking. Clicked.

The theory.
The healing.
The lived experience.
The way my whole body responded to the idea of safety as a leadership strategy?

I couldn’t unsee it.

Look, I might go into more detail about the wild ride this past year has been (spoiler: it was a doozy), but for now, just know this:

Not having a job?
Yeah, it was terrifying. But it also gave me time.
To heal. To reflect. To ask what I actually wanted from work. From life. From myself.

So here I am.

A live wire, learning to regulate.
A woman with a natural instinct to lead.
Someone who wants to help other women feel more safe, more connected, more seen.

It’s not about participation awards.
But it’s definitely not Yellowjackets either.

Oh — and in case you’re new here:
My favorite word is fuck. I use it a lot.

If any of that hits something real for you, you’re in the right place.
Pull up a seat. We’re just getting started.