There was a time in my life where I genuinely did not think I was going to make it to 25.

I felt like a stranger in my own body. Like everyone around me could see something was wrong with me, but no one — not a single doctor, not a single person — could tell me why. I was bloated to the point where I looked nine months pregnant. I was so fatigued that I lost my sense of self completely. I had severe depression, crippling anxiety, and a gut that was destroying my life — and every doctor I saw told me it was just IBS. Just lactose intolerance. Just anxiety. They threw Zoloft and PPIs at me and sent me on my way.

I was terrified. I was alone. And I had zero idea who I even was.

The gym was my entire identity. It was the one place I felt like myself. And then even that was taken from me — exercise crashes so severe I couldn’t recover. My body was fighting me at every turn and I didn’t understand why. That’s when I found out: Hashimoto’s. And you know what the doctors told me? There’s nothing we can do. You’ll never train the way you used to. It’s only a matter of time before this gets worse.

I refused to accept that as my reality.

So I went digging. I invested over $50,000 into my health in two years. I was desperate — not just to feel better physically, but to come back home to myself. To stop feeling like an outcast in my own life. To stop being so inflamed, so disconnected, so utterly lost.

And then I found it. Black mold. I had been breathing it in for two years. It had triggered everything. I moved out immediately, thinking that was it — I was finally going to heal.

I didn’t.

I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t drive on highways because my nervous system was so deep in fight-or-flight that it wasn’t safe. I was completely broken. And then came the next answer — chronic Lyme disease. Chronic EBV. A tick bite at Electric Forest that had been silently destroying my body.

I found a functional doctor. She gave me real answers for the first time. But she still didn’t heal me. I was still broken. Still disconnected. Still a stranger in my body.

So I kept going.

And then I found two coaches who changed everything. They taught me how to regulate my nervous system. How to heal my mitochondria. How to actually work with my body instead of against it. They taught me that healing is not just physical — it is spiritual. It is energetic. It is about completely dismantling the identity you have built around your illness and your pain and your past.

Because here’s what no one tells you: you will never fully heal if your environment is wrong. If the people around you are draining your frequency. If you are still living for everyone else — the boyfriend, the job, the family — instead of yourself. Your body cannot heal in the same environment that made it sick.

I had to learn all of this the hard way.

I learned blood sugar balance. Carbs for thyroid function. Metabolic flexibility. How to identify what your immune system is reacting to. How to fix leaky gut. How to support liver detox. How to clear pathogens. How to finally, finally let go of the disease — and the emotional trauma that was keeping it alive in my body.

And then my Hashimoto’s went into remission.

I wake up now obsessed with my life. Genuinely. I walk through this world differently. I am not my diagnosis. I am not my past. I am not the girl who didn’t think she’d make it to 25. I am proof that everything your doctors told you was a dead end — isn’t.

Autoimmune conditions are not forever. Chronic anxiety is not forever. IBS is not forever. And you are not stuck.

So I went back to school, became a Certified Functional Health Practitioner, and built my practice around one mission: to help women who are exactly where I was. Women who feel like a stranger in their own bodies. Women who don't remember the last time they felt normal. Women who have too much of a big heart to keep being made small by their health, their environment, and everything they were told they couldn't do.

I'm not just someone who studied this work.

I lived it. I crawled through it. And I came out the other side so I could come back and get you.

Let's bring you back home to yourself.