My Story

If you had known me years ago, you probably wouldn't have imagined this would be my life. Truthfully, neither would I

At different times I was a single mom, a softball coach, a Girl Scout leader, my daughter's full-time chauffeur to competitive gymnastics (and if you've ever had a competitive athlete, you know that's practically a full-time job!), volunteered at a women's shelter working with children, served as a child advocate, sang in the church choir, volunteered in my community, cooked home-cooked meals, built businesses... I didn't get much sleep back then. Whew! I'm exhausted just remembering it all. And somehow I thought all of that was just normal life.

People often described me as fearless, headstrong, and a classic Type A personality.

Personally, I always found that a little funny because I had a ton of fear.

I just learned something early in life. Fear was usually trying to stop me. If I pushed through it instead of letting it make my decisions, I almost always found the good stuff waiting on the other side.

Looking back, I can also see that what I called my gut was quietly guiding me long before I understood what that really meant.

Faith had always been an important part of my life. I loved God, was active in my church, and genuinely wanted to make a difference wherever I could. I didn't know it then, but every part of my life was preparing me for something I never could have imagined.

Then everything changed.

A life-threatening illness brought my world to a standstill.

During the worst of that illness, there were times when the pain became so overwhelming that I would leave my body. In those moments, I experienced a place of profound peace, unconditional love, and conversations with what I understood at the time as God.

During one of those conversations, I was given a choice.

I could return home, or I could stay and complete the work I had come here to do. If I chose to stay, I would be healed.

Apparently, I chose to stay.

I don't actually remember making the choice. I remember hearing the question and asking, "Do what?" Then I was back. What I did know, without question, was that the healing had already happened. My body simply needed time to catch up with what I somehow already knew.

Healing didn't happen overnight.

It took years.

Those years changed me in ways I couldn't have understood at the time. They taught me patience, surrender, trust, and a different way of living. Then, near the end of that healing, another journey quietly began.

Within less than a year, my awareness expanded in ways I had no framework to explain. New ways of perceiving life seemed to appear one after another. Sometimes information came through direct knowing. Sometimes through hearing, inner vision, physical sensation, energetic downloads, or synchronicities that were impossible to ignore.

There were moments I wondered if I was losing my mind.

There were many more moments that left me in complete awe.

As remarkable as those experiences were, they were never the greatest transformation.

The greatest transformation was allowing them to change me.

As my awareness expanded, I could no longer fit inside many of the beliefs and identities I had built around myself. My determination didn't disappear. My faith didn't disappear. My desire to serve didn't disappear.

They expanded.

My understanding continues to grow. I don't believe my journey has ever been about having all the answers. It has been about continuing to remember the wholeness of who I am and allowing that remembrance to shape the way I live, love, and serve.

Today, whether I am channeling, teaching, facilitating healing, or simply sitting with someone who is searching for clarity, my purpose is the same.

Not to tell people what to believe.

Not to ask them to see the world the way I do.

But to create a space where they can reconnect with their own inner knowing, discover their own truth, and remember that they are far more than they have been taught to believe.

If my story offers anything, I hope it is this:

Life isn't about becoming someone else.

It's about having the courage to keep remembering the wholeness of who you have always been.