My Story

I grew up in an extremely loving family that valued kindness, respect, and hard work. I couldn’t ask for better parents, and I am grateful for them each and every day. I could always see and hear spirits around me. When I was a teenager, I dabbled in spiritual practices that my mother did not approve of. I had an experience that shook my reality. I was terrified. I was still curious but that fear was ever present. Then life happened. For many years, I chose to suffer. I learned that I was not enough unless I worked until I couldn’t see straight, said yes to every opportunity I was given, and pleased everyone at all costs, even my own health. I was chugging along college blissfully oblivious for the rollercoaster ride I was about to embark on. Right before Christmas 2010, my mother died suddenly and my life spiraled out of control. I watched my family come unhinged. People came into my life, more people left. My cousin moved in with us along with her 3 year old daughter who I helped care for. I hated that I was gay; I had a secret boyfriend that I had to hide from my work. I hated myself. I hated my life. I was done. In 2012, I was diagnosed with cancer. During surgery to remove the cancer, I almost died of respiratory failure. I had a lot of time to sit and think and teach my lungs to breathe. I prayed for death. Somehow, I got better and spirit decided to whisper in my ear. I kept getting this curious feeling like there was more out there. Then in 2016, I decided to take my now husband (same secret boyfriend that the Catholic Church couldn’t find out about) to a gallery reading. I knew right then and there I wanted to learn how to do this. It felt so right. I was very afraid. So I went to a psychic development class. I dragged a close friend with me. The first class was channeling and the teacher instructed us to let spirit get close to us. The teacher channeled a spirit at the end of class and the lights in the room went out one by one and we all felt surrounded. My friend was terrified and never went back. I wanted more. I kept taking classes for about a year. In that time, I gave readings to anyone who had a pulse. The instructor for psychic development just vanished. The owner of the wellness center approached me to take over the class. I tried to say no, and came up with every excuse in the book that I wasn’t ready, not experienced enough, not psychic enough, not enough. The owner would not take no for an answer and asked me to do a reading for them to prove me wrong. So I did. The owner offered me the opportunity again and offered to help me attract students. I said yes and was equally scared and excited. I did this for a few years and had many other opportunities to teach classes and mentor spiritual students at many different wellness centers in Western Massachusetts and Connecticut. I earned a few more degrees and certifications because that would make me feel like I was enough when my name wouldn’t fit on one line anymore. It wasn’t until I was working full time as a social emotional behavioral special education teacher, co-owned a big wellness center in Massachusetts, and saw clients at 3 different wellness centers in two different states, and trying to be perfect at all of this, that I had to fly the coop. I was getting sick again. I was done with all of it. I dropped everything (literally) and went to Peru with some amazing people I studied shamanism with. I almost died a few times there and yet I hadn’t lived a day of my life until I was 30. I found out that I am indeed a gummy bear and flies have Brooklyn accents (ask me for this story, it is epic!), Guinea pigs are cute and delicious, how to excuse myself in Spanish, how to say cow in Quechua, that every plant in Peru can either heal you or kill you, hummingbirds in Peru are the size of a house cat, that I love jungles, and that Q’ero shamans are the most real, amazing, loving, and hilarious human beings I have ever met. I was called to be a shaman while in Peru. I also learned that now is the only moment that matters, and there is so much more to life than working 9-5 Monday through Friday and collapsing on the weekends. Death came for me a couple times in Peru and helped me see that I was not living. After I got back to the states in June of 2019, my first thought was “I can breathe!” (12,000-14,000 feet elevation will literally take your breath away). I started to make changes to my diet, exercise regularly, set boundaries, feel my emotions, and started to care for myself. I will never go back to the living dead again. EVER. This has not been easy, and I am still learning to love myself, say no, and feel like I am enough just as I am. I love life. I can help you get there too.