My upbringing --in its own funny way-- sparked my passion for the importance of the body and, with it, the importance of ritual and ceremony to ground our experiences in the here-and-now on this planet.
Raised in the South in a conservative home, I was pressured to be a "lady". From what I could gather, being a lady meant being small, quiet, and invisible. I was none of those things. If I wasn't a lady, could I be a good woman? Good women were also quiet and docile and let their dates win. I wasn't any good at that. Did that mean I wasn't a good woman? Or that I wasn't good at being a woman? Yet, I am a woman- so what does that mean about me as a person???
To further complicate things, I was also taught that my body was my enemy, and this planet a punishment. Something about that teaching never quite felt right, and my love of comparative religion/mythology began in my search to overturn that idea of inherent brokenness. My need to heal from my abusive past and struggles with depression made that search for wholeness a mission and a passion.
My breakdowns and break-ups taught me deep lessons about accepting and loving who I am, living outside the box, and loving whole-heartedly. I'm embodying those lessons daily in my life with my loving partner (still enjoying each other's company deep into COVID quarantine) and our two cats in a house with a different color on every wall inside and a few murals on the outside in Central Phoenix.
Learn more about my background and qualifications here.