My Journey

My life has been a long, winding pilgrimage through laughter, heartbreak, unraveling, remembering, and unexpected grace. For years, I hid from the pieces of myself I feared were unlovable. Now I gather every former version of me like precious relics. The one who trembled, the one who numbed, the one who ran, the one who reached, the one who prayed for something more — each carried a fragment of the map that led me here.
Through the Liminal… into myself.

For much of my life, living in my own body felt like trying to inhabit a house struck by lightning. I survived sexual trauma as a child, and the shockwave lingered for decades. My skin felt unsafe, my breath felt borrowed, my whole being felt like a place I should not be. So I learned to escape inwardly while standing completely still. I reached for whatever dulled the ache — people, substances, noise — because that was what was taught, modeled, and expected. And somewhere deep beneath the wreckage, I believed that was all I was worthy of.

Healing, I have learned, is not a staircase upward. It is a tide — pulling back, rushing in, shifting the shoreline over and over again. There were seasons when the sun broke through and everything felt possible. I clung to those moments like proof I was fine, that I didn’t need to look beneath the surface. But the wheel always turned. And when it did, the unhealed pieces returned like loyal messengers, asking to be felt, held, honored, released.

Still, a quiet knowing lived inside me — the thread of remembrance that everything is connected. My grandmother, Petra Valentine, placed energy healing in my hands before I knew the alphabet. Massage therapy later taught me that muscles remember what the mind refuses. Yoga revealed the stories held in the subtle body, pulsing beneath consciousness. These practices brought me far, but eventually, I hit a threshold where nothing outside myself could carry me deeper.

And then plant medicine came calling — not as a foreign concept, but as something I had been taught to fear. Conditioned to believe it was dangerous, shameful, forbidden. Stigma is a powerful teacher of limitation. But life has a way of placing the very thing you’ve been avoiding squarely in your path when your soul is ready to grow beyond the life you’ve outgrown.

My first ceremony did not break me open — it reminded me I had never truly been closed. It revealed that everything I had begged the world to give me — peace, forgiveness, expansion, belonging — had been curled inside my own ribcage the entire time. It showed me I am both the creator and the creation. That I am responsible for my freedom. That I am whole, even when I feel undone. That I am inseparable from the universe, from the elements, from every breath that has ever moved through me.

And yes, I still have human moments. I still start the occasional metaphorical dumpster fire. But I meet myself with more softness now. More reverence. More agency. I inhabit my skin with a grounded presence I once thought was impossible.

That understanding — that real healing requires going through, and that to walk through, you must be willing to go in — is what birthed Into the Liminal. Liminal space is the threshold between who we have been and who we are becoming. The place where stories shed their skins. The place where shadows speak and light returns. It is where transformation whispers before it roars.

And it is here that I learned something essential: the guru model is a cage disguised as a temple. Teachers matter — I honor mine deeply — but any teacher who insists you need them to heal is not a teacher. They are a barrier between you and your own becoming. True guides lead you back to yourself. True healing restores your sovereignty.

Today, my passion — my devotion — is walking beside others as they navigate their own liminal passages. Not to orchestrate dramatic epiphanies, but to help you discover the small, holy, everyday moments of peace that weave a life back together. The glimmers that remind you who you are, even when you forget.

Into the Liminal is the home where my lived experience, my healing path, my business wisdom, and my reverence for the human spirit converge. This is not a place where someone saves you. This is a place where you return to the truth that you were never lost — only waiting to be found by your own light.

Through the Liminal… into yourself.

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