About Me
After spending almost a decade of my life having to completely restructure my way of living due to the extensive and long-lasting ramifications of Lyme Disease, I discovered a new way of living, one that was far more beautiful, fulfilling, and expansive than the life I had before.
At 23, I had arthritis in almost every joint in my body. My tendons, ligaments, and muscles were all inflamed and painful. My nerves were frayed and I was in daily pain. Doctors told me that my condition was chronic and the best they could do was help me to manage my symptoms as they slowly worsened.
Thankfully, there was a part of me who didn’t believe them.
Having just spent the last four years of my life being trained as a Mechanical Engineer, I set out on a long and winding, methodical journey, in search of other answers.
It took me many years to arrive to where I am today, healthy and thriving. I am now passionate and dedicated to supporting others in discovering and reclaiming a balanced state of health and wellness as well.
Training & Experience
I am a certified integrative health coach through the Institute for Integrative Nutrition (IIN) and a trained, trauma-informed somatic practitioner.
My work is shaped by formal study, extensive personal research, long-term mentorship, and certification in Trauma & Somatics, alongside years of lived practice supporting nervous system regulation, embodiment, and integration.
Before this work became my primary focus, I spent nearly 15 years as an outdoor guide, a path that continues to deeply inform how I work with people today. Guiding taught me how to read people under stress, attune to subtle shifts in energy and capacity, and lead with steadiness, presence, and care.
These skills now live at the heart of my somatic work. Whether on the trail or in session, my orientation is the same: listening deeply, moving at the body’s pace, and supporting people to stay connected to what matters, even in uncertainty.
My approach is relational, slow, and consent-based. I don’t override the body or push for insight before the system is ready. Instead, I prioritize safety, choice, and attunement, trusting that when the nervous system feels supported, clarity and change arise organically.
My Healing Journey
Young adult life.
The path I walked to arrive to where I am today has been long and winding, to say the least, and yet it also seems like each and every experience was meant to lead me to exactly where I am today.
Graduating in 2015 from Syracuse University, with a B.S. in Mechanical Engineering and a minor in Mathematics, I decided to take a year off before heading back to grad school. I wanted to explore and embrace what my heart had been trying to tell me all along. I wanted to follow my own path and not the one that had been laid out for me, just for a year at least.
One thing led to the next and, as I continued to tune in to my inner world and discover and explore my personal and unique passions, the things and experiences and doings that made me feel truly alive, I ended up spending not one, but five years on the road, living in my wonderful little Subaru and exploring so many of the natural wonders that our beautiful country has to offer.
Early learnings and transformations.
Living this simple, nomadic life taught me many important life lessons. I was deeply in tune with the rising and setting of the sun and was at the mercy of whatever the weather had in store for me that day.
I learned to hold space for new closings and openings to unfold, to let go of the detailed and ordered plans I had created and to instead open to the wonderful and mysterious flows of life and embrace the exciting and unexpected opportunities that crossed my path instead.
I learned to be gentle with myself. I began to recognize rest as not just something to give myself when I needed to recover, but something that I was allowed to deeply relax into whenever it felt supportive, learning to make time for myself to feel peace and tranquility in my daily life.
I do not want to suggest that this time was just rainbows and butterflies. There was great shadow and darkness to navigate as well.
Early learnings and transformations.
Living this simple, nomadic life taught me many important life lessons. I was deeply in tune with the rising and setting of the sun and was at the mercy of whatever the weather had in store for me that day.
I learned to hold space for new closings and openings to unfold, to let go of the detailed and ordered plans I had created and to instead open to the wonderful and mysterious flows of life and embrace the exciting and unexpected opportunities that crossed my path instead.
I learned to be gentle with myself. I began to recognize rest as not just something to give myself when I needed to recover, but something that I was allowed to deeply relax into whenever it felt supportive, learning to make time for myself to feel peace and tranquility in my daily life.
I do not want to suggest that this time was just rainbows and butterflies. There was great shadow and darkness to navigate as well.
My personal health journey has been a long and winding road.
It started when I was 23 and diagnosed with Lyme Disease. My hands would uncontrollably shake, I was sleeping 15 hours a day, my brain was constantly foggy, and I had to manage daily, chronic pain from fibromyalgia, arthritis, tendonitis, and a gut that could barely digest anymore.
After the 6 months of multiple antibiotics didn’t work, specialists said that because of how long the Lyme had been undiagnosed and untreated (I grew up in the NE being bit by ticks), I most likely had a chronic and degenerative disease. The symptoms could be managed as they progressed, but there was no cure. Needless to say, I was devastated.
Thankfully, my doctor suggested that I try changing my diet. Although he couldn’t explain why, he admitted that some of his patients had reported positive results after limiting or restricting certain foods.
Both desperate and doubtful, I gave it a try. I began to notice that specific symptoms arose after eating certain foods, while other foods helped to lessen some symptoms. This was the start to a completely new way of understanding my personal health and wellness, one that has now expanded far beyond just the food on my plate.
At first, I started to spiral.
Those first few years, I had this constant fear hovering over me. So many people with chronic Lyme developed symptoms of Parkinson’s, Multiple Sclerosis, or ALS later on. Based on my current symptoms, I was possibly on track for that.
I was terrified that I would lose the ability to play in the outdoors, like I so loved to. I had already lost so much of that already.
My sense of self-worth plummeted. When I went out climbing with my friends, I just felt like a burden. I couldn’t carry much of the heavy gear like I used to, as the arthritis in my knees and spine had gotten so bad. I had to rest afterward for two to three days longer than I used to. Dating seemed like a far-off dream.
I was in daily, chronic pain and I started to feel hopeless and deeply alone in my predicament. I didn’t know how to talk about it. I was barely able to think or feel about it with myself. It was too overwhelming.
At first, I started to spiral.
Those first few years, I had this constant fear hovering over me. So many people with chronic Lyme developed symptoms of Parkinson’s, Multiple Sclerosis, or ALS later on. Based on my current symptoms, I was possibly on track for that.
I was terrified that I would lose the ability to play in the outdoors, like I so loved to. I had already lost so much of that already.
My sense of self-worth plummeted. When I went out climbing with my friends, I just felt like a burden. I couldn’t carry much of the heavy gear like I used to, as the arthritis in my knees and spine had gotten so bad. I had to rest afterward for two to three days longer than I used to. Dating seemed like a far-off dream.
I was in daily, chronic pain and I started to feel hopeless and deeply alone in my predicament. I didn’t know how to talk about it. I was barely able to think or feel about it with myself. It was too overwhelming.
Something had to give.
I started to try anything that could help.
Acupuncture was the first “alternative” medicine that truly alleviated many of my symptoms. Ayurveda was the second. These successes made me start to really question what I had been taught about health and wellness in general.
I started to realize that our healthcare system here in the United States seems to actually be closer to a sick-care system. Patients learning to live with a chronic disease by doing what they can to manage their symptoms, either by taking pills or undergoing expensive, invasive surgeries, many with life-changing side effects.
I started to learn that many eastern medicine practices teach about energy flow within our bodies and the intricacies of the mind-body connection. At first, I had a lot of resistance to this. Energy flow? Our thoughts and emotions being the cause of symptoms in our physical bodies? At the time, it all seemed a little too far out there for me.
It turns out, now western science is studying the mind-body connection too.
Then I learned about Nervous System Dysregulation.
I started to dive into the new research coming out about trauma and complex PTSD. There was hard, scientific data showing a direct connection between the mind and the body, and it was through our Central Nervous System.
The mind-body connection and our energetic experience is real.
Suddenly, so much was falling into place. My stubborn engineer’s mind finally had what it needed to really allow myself fully lean in to what I had been experiencing and learning about.
It turns out, now western science is studying the mind-body connection too.
Then I learned about Nervous System Dysregulation.
I started to dive into the new research coming out about trauma and complex PTSD. There was hard, scientific data showing a direct connection between the mind and the body, and it was through our Central Nervous System.
The mind-body connection and our energetic experience is real.
Suddenly, so much was falling into place. My stubborn engineer’s mind finally had what it needed to really allow myself fully lean in to what I had been experiencing and learning about.
It was time for radical change in my life.
One day, I was talking with a woman about what I was going through, about how poorly understood chronic disease is. She said, “those who struggle the most with Lyme are those who are struggling to walk the path they came here to walk.”
Little did I know it then, but those words eventually changed my life forever…
We each have our own path.
My role is to walk alongside you as you come into deeper relationship with your own.
Does this resonate?
If you’re here, you may already sense that something different is needed.
Perhaps you’ve explored many paths — therapies, protocols, insights — and still feel like your body hasn’t quite caught up with what you understand. Or maybe you’re early in the process and unsure where to begin, only knowing that pushing harder isn’t the answer.
This work is not about fixing yourself or chasing the next solution. It’s about steady, attuned support as you learn to listen to your body, build capacity, and move at a pace that feels sustainable.
If you’re curious to learn more, I offer a free exploratory call — a low-pressure space to ask questions, sense into fit, and see what feels aligned.
From there, we can talk about what kind of support would serve you best. My offerings are flexible and shaped around your needs and real life, rather than a one-size-fits-all program.
My priority is not convincing you to work with me. It’s supporting you in reconnecting with your body in a way that feels safe, respectful, and genuinely supportive.
