It’s a strange time to be alive. The political climate in the United States has divided people in ways I never remember experiencing before. Lines have been drawn through families, friendships, communities. Things that once felt like differences of opinion now feel like fundamental breaks in values. For a long time, I tried to tolerate that. I told myself that love meant making room. That family meant endurance. That disagreement didn’t have to be disqualifying. Until one day

I learned very early in my marriage that if something mattered to me, I couldn’t just say it. Not plainly. Not directly. If I needed something, anything really, I had to figure out how to present it in a way that allowed him to arrive at the conclusion himself. As if the idea had originated in his mind, not mine. At the time, I was vaguely uncomfortable with this. I remember wondering if that made me manipulative. And in a technical sense, yes, it did. I was manipulating outc

There was a long stretch of my marriage where my husband traveled a lot for work. Conferences. Meetings. Professional things that existed in a world I was never part of. And I remember noticing something about myself that I didn’t quite know what to do with at the time. When he was getting ready to leave, I felt… relieved. Not dramatically. Not with fireworks or rebellion. Just a quiet sense of spaciousness opening up in my chest. Like I could breathe more easily for a few da

I've witnessed the remarkable turnaround in every aspect of my own life; relationships, finances, career, self-love, and I now guide clients