When I was nine years old, I relocated overseas and attended boarding school in England.
I started developing a general mistrust of women and a deep wound towards the feminine, which was perpetuated by a chaotic home environment and my unstable relationship with my mother.

As a young adult, I struggled to maintain close bonds within friend groups. I would spend a lot of my lunch breaks in the library or hiding in toilet cubicles. I was always creative, but I would aimlessly peruse different interests that seemed to fade out as quickly as they came.

Growing up without knowing my biological father caused me anguish. I felt a lot of wounding around parental bonding. As I got older I tended to behave promiscuously. I longed for emotional stability, trying to obtain it from men whom I knew could not provide it.

In my twenties, I decided to move back to America permanently after a cyclical toxic relationship had finally taken its toll on my mental health, causing me to act out towards those I loved. I didn’t realize it at the time, but moving back was going to change my life.

I went on a quest to find my father, and he had just been admitted to the hospital when we finally met. He would pass away in the short months that followed, but I knew it was no accident that the universe had been preparing me for that sacred meeting since childhood. Our souls tethered.

Experiencing this loss ushered in spiritual growth and healing. I started deeply connecting to my own spirituality, realizing that I had so much intuitive ability that I had suppressed. Connecting with mother nature empowered me to finally realize that it was me who I had been looking for all along.