I was born into a world of structure and certainty—a Mormon family with clear rules, expectations, and a prescribed path for life. But from the very beginning, something inside me knew that there was more, something unspoken, something beyond the lines I was told to stay within. As a child, I was deeply sensitive, picking up on energies and emotions in ways that I didn’t understand at the time. My twin sister and I shared a bond that felt almost telepathic, navigating an upbringing that held both love and trauma.
For years, I tried to fit into the framework I was given. I followed the steps, sought approval, and did my best to quiet the deeper stirrings within me. But transformation has a way of finding you, no matter how tightly you try to hold the edges of the world as you know it. My turning point came through my twin—when she went through a crisis, something in me cracked open. I stepped forward to support her, and in doing so, I found myself suddenly channeling. Words, insights, and wisdom flowed through me, not from my mind, but from something greater, something that had been waiting for me to listen.
From there, the journey unfolded in ways I never expected. I left Mormonism in my 30s, drawn instead to indigenous wisdom, Zen Buddhism, and later, Pure Land traditions. Along the way, I became an energy healer, a massage therapist, an artist—each step revealing more of what I had always known deep inside but had been afraid to claim. The work I do now isn’t about giving people answers; it’s about guiding them to the place where they remember their own.
Play has always been at the heart of my process. Not play in the way we usually think of it—not just fun or games, but the kind of play that disrupts, surprises, and awakens. The kind that invites us to stretch past the rigid lines of identity and say, ‘What if?’ What if I’m more than I thought? What if this fear is just an old mask? What if I could experience myself differently?
In my sessions, I use symbols, movement, and unexpected moments to help people shake loose from the stories they’ve been told about themselves. I work with energy, with words, with sacred objects, and sometimes, with pure absurdity. Because when we step out of what is expected, we find what is real.
This path isn’t easy. I’ve lost relationships. I’ve had to grieve old versions of myself. My family, still deeply rooted in their beliefs, struggles to understand my work. But I’ve come to peace with that, knowing that my journey is mine to own. And through it all, I’ve learned that authenticity isn’t about fighting against something—it’s about fully stepping into who you are.
Now, as I continue this unfolding, I hold space for others to do the same. To break free, to explore, to expand. To remember that life is meant to be lived in movement, in discovery, and in play. Because we are all so much more than we think we are. And it’s time to find out just how much more we can be.
