People often ask me how I came into this work, and the truth is: life woke me up. Twice.
I call it my “double burnout story.” At the time, I didn’t have that language, I just knew something inside me was collapsing under the weight of how hard I was pushing.
In my early career, I worked for Arthur Andersen, one of the top public accounting firms in the world. It was fast-paced, demanding, high-stakes… and I thrived in it. Or at least I thought I did. I could juggle anything, keep everyone happy, hit every deadline. Until one busy season pushed me past my limits. I worked nearly 200 hours in two weeks. Add in stress at home, and my body simply said, “No more.”
I burned out so deeply I had to walk away. I told myself a change in environment would fix everything, a more “normal” job, a slower pace. But I didn’t change me, so nothing actually shifted.
Later, after getting married and having our daughters, I thought: Okay, this is a different season. This will be gentler.
And in many beautiful ways, it was. But the patterns were still there — over-giving, over-doing, carrying everything quietly, avoiding the harder personal conversations by pouring myself into everyone else’s needs.
Nine years into motherhood, I looked up and realized: I was burned out again. Different life, same pattern.
My thyroid woke me up.Not metaphorically. Literally. I developed hyperthyroidism, an autoimmune diagnosis, and my body demanded the truth I’d been avoiding.
For the first time in my life, I had to stop. Not slow down — stop. My husband stepped in with the kids so I could rest for weeks. I remember thinking, “How am I here again? Two completely different lives… and I still pushed myself to the edge.”
That was the moment I realized the common denominator wasn’t my work or my circumstances.
It was my internal world.
My burnout wasn’t about hours or responsibilities — it was about identity, patterns, unhealed places, and the ways I abandoned myself in the name of being strong, successful, or “fine.”
That realization cracked something open. It sent me inward — into spiritual study, emotional healing, somatic work, consciousness exploration, and eventually into the coaching work I now consider my life’s calling.
My own healing is why I care so deeply about helping others reconnect with themselves before life forces them to. I don’t want anyone else to have to learn through crisis what they could learn through compassion.
My story is the backbone of my work.
It’s why I hold space the way I do — with depth, humor, gentleness, and a profound respect for the quiet battles people carry. It’s why I help leaders slow down on purpose, listen inward, and lead from a state that feels sustainable and true.
