How Anne got here
I grew up in a small village in Trinidad — no TV, no shoes, no distractions. Just nature, silence, and a community woven from Muslim, Hindu, and Catholic traditions all living side by side.
I didn't have language for what I was experiencing as a child, but the thread was always there.
When I was seven, I woke in the night and saw a figure at the foot of my bed. He told me his name and said he'd always guide me. I just thought that was normal.
Coming to America as a teenager with a heavy accent and no support network was a different kind of education. I had to find my way in a culture that didn't know me, and I came close to losing myself more than once.
But something kept me oriented — that same inner thread.
I held it privately for a long time, afraid of being judged. For years I carried experiences I couldn't share with anyone.
I went through a divorce after sixteen years of marriage, left everything behind, and started over. I worked in real estate, taught scuba diving, did team building for corporations — whatever kept the lights on.
Through all of it, I kept doing the work I actually cared about on the side: hypnotherapy, life coaching, sitting with people who needed to be heard. Eventually that became the whole thing.
One of the turning points was finally letting myself own what I'd been carrying. A week at a retreat center with no phones, no clocks, no one to perform for — I came out of that able to say plainly what I do and why.
I'd been channeling for years without calling it that. I'd been a medium without having a word for it. The work didn't change. I just stopped hiding it.
Now I work with adults who are blocked, lost, grieving, or sitting on spiritual experiences they've never told anyone about.
I've worked with billionaires and people in real financial struggle, with attorneys and professors and people who have never tried anything like this before. That range doesn't feel accidental to me — it came from a life lived across extremes.
What I want, at the end of every session, is for someone to leave trusting themselves a little more than when they arrived. Not dependent on me. Just more at home in themselves.