My story:

The body, mind and spirit are not separate; they are inextricably linked. Since I began this healing journey ten years ago, I’ve been chasing the growth of the human spirit like my life depends on it- because it does.

I experienced a lot of trauma in my childhood. I was diagnosed with ADD and depression and put on a variety of medications that never worked. In my late teens and early twenties, I tried  lots of different drugs. On a rare occasion, I’d get a glimmer of epiphany, like realizing I should care less what people think about me while on mushrooms- but mostly it was experiences that were numbing, escaping reality, and caused more suffering. I was searching for meaning and healing where there was none- I was searching for freedom and peace for my restless, hurting soul. 

Getting addicted to heroin at age 23 was the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me. The worst- for obvious reasons- trauma compounding more trauma. The best- because it brought me onto this path of understanding and growth from human suffering which all of us experience- yet which most of us have no context for understanding, motivation to make lasting changes, or  tools to heal from.

 

When I started to seriously put my all into recovery at age 25, I was introduced to the idea that every single thing I do should be guided by this process of seeking, healing, and being of service. I was catapulted into a world of ego-dissolution, of rigorous honesty, of heart-opening, of uncomfortable truth-telling, of humble admission, of painful shadow-work, of peaceful surrender, of unwavering devotion.

I put a toxic drug in my system for the last time at age 27, and as a result of an enormous amount of inner work, I experienced a massive shift in how I existed, felt, and operated in life. After reaching a place of stability in my own recovery, I poured my energy into helping others find the freedom and peace that I had found. I would regularly speak at different recovery meetings and sober houses, I started two recovery meetings, and I “sponsored,” or mentored many people in their journey getting sober. I spent 3 years working in mental health and social services, working as a case manager at a treatment center and at a homeless shelter, and working as a residential support specialist in group homes for adults with schizophrenia.

Eventually I decided to quit the grueling, underpaid and under -thanked world of social services and I return to two of my favorite things to be: a student and a dancer. I went back to the strip club, and enrolled back in school to complete my degree.

 

I added a Gender Studies degree to my nearly complete English degree. I was finally able to put context to the systems of oppression which had driven me insane and propagated most of the trauma I had experienced- not just at the level of gender, but also class, race, and the privilege, or lack thereof, of the life someone was born into. I was finally able to articulate strong sentiments that I had always felt in my heart, and resonate with great thinkers like Simone de Beauvoir, Ibram X. Kendi, Kimberle Crenshaw, Gayle Rubin, Rita Segato, Sara Ahmed, Angela Davis, and Lola Divina, who felt the same immense drive to find a route to empowerment, on an individual as well as universal-level.

 

I began to open up and reawaken my sexuality. I was so happy to come back to my body and to find out that I can actually celebrate my sexuality- that it was beautiful and joyful and inherently good- not something to be fearful and shameful of, as I had been taught within the insular recovery community I had been a part of. 

 

A community of a couple thousand people with a few top leaders, it was essentially the 12-steps of AA on steroids with a few hints of cool progressive practices like Jungian philosophy and Buddhist wisdom, but also a strong dose of shame, fear, public humiliation and performative devotion to the hierarchical system of important leaders within the community. 

 

I had experienced enormous healing as a result of this community when I was first getting sober that I will be forever grateful for- absorbing and embracing practices like total devotion and discipline to healing, shadow work deep dives, pure altruism, the ability to own my truth and my part in things and make amends, and conscious contact with a power greater than myself. Yet- I also began to realize that in many ways, it had been deeply harmful.  It completely disregarded trauma, teaching that addiction happened randomly as a result of a spiritual malady. It was based in shame and structurally sexist, and as a result propagated more trauma in many of us. I was taught (and believed for several years) that, not only was sexuality inherently dangerous and harmful (especially that of women who were confident and embraced it), but my “spiritual malady” was as well, and that both needed to be constantly micromanaged, monitored, prayed away, and balanced out with service work.

 

After branching out and rediscovering an even deeper layer of my authentic soul, I began immersing myself in other healing modalities other than the 12-steps. I started practicing Ashtanga yoga and formally studying Buddhism, going on retreats and broadening my meditation practice. I took a course on using herbs holistically and discovered Ayurveda. I learned how to nourish my body with amazing food and herbs, and started consciously moving away from all of the toxins that we are immersed in in today’s world. I started working with a somatic and psychedelic guide, and started to feel more safety in my nervous system, and explore and heal from the various ways my mind, body and spirit had been abused, starting as a young child. I learned how to incorporate and retain all the amazing things I got from the 12 steps while healing from the parts that were harmful, and found understanding and forgiveness for the people who ran the controlling recovery community.

 

With the help of working at the strip club, I finally had money, and was able to save it intelligently (at first). I became obsessed with investing in real estate- partly driven by my ego, lost in the identity of rich stripper who beat the odds- and partly driven by my traumatized, wounded self, still on her haunting search for security and stability, two things which had been out of my reach for most of my life. Not the best obsession to land on in the post-pandemic housing crisis. I ended up purchasing a bed bug infested, actual crack house duplex in Lewison, Maine, with the lock-jawed, tunnel-visioned intention of turning it into an AirBnb. 

 

I describe this experience as second only to heroin addiction. Instead of moving abroad to Europe, as I had originally planned, I was trapped in failed mill-town, capital-of-misery-and-suffering Maine. Unbeknownst to me until after purchasing the property, reliable contractors were nearly impossible to be found amidst the surge in new construction in Maine, and even harder to find in Lewiston. What I had landed myself in was tons of different workers entering my home, my sacred space- hustling me, lying to me, hitting on me, and threatening me. As much as I experienced suffering as a result of this, I also recognized that these were traumatized men experiencing addiction and poverty, and pressure to prove themselves in the rat race, controlled and traumatized by the capitalist patriarchy in their own regard.

 

The realization that I had poured all of my money, and sacred energy into this pit of hopeless despair nearly broke me entirely. Instead of being a money-maker, it pushed me further and further into debt and suffering. Instead of bringing me security and financial stability, it made me feel perpetually unsafe, stressed, and robbed of my peace. I was trapped in my own prison.

After I had purchased the property, my landlord from my last rental took nearly 2k of my 3k deposit for entirely made-up damages. Fueled with the (somewhat) stability of my home that I now owned, and the rage of being fucked with from the majority of predatory landlords I had dealt with my entire life, I confronted him- politely and calmly, but bluntly and firmly, and I filmed it and put it on Tiktok. It went viral within hours, eventually clocking in at 12 million views, with several other follow-up videos, including a guide on how to take your landlord to small claims court. 

 

In the comments, I heard from people like me- people who were fed up at being the worker ants for the rich and privileged- and I also heard from lots of men who were furious at a woman for speaking up and demanding her rights. Men who genuinely believed, fueled by their own distorted experience of the patriarchal structure they were forced to exist in, that I was the cause of their suffering.

 

My experience with both the angry real estate bros as well as the bitter contractors was a moment of reflection on how the system we are living in doesn’t seem to working well for anyone- not only has this capitalist patriarchy harmed the groups of people that we typically think of, but also exposed the shock and anger others feel when their superficial societal markers are threatened- rooting us all in a system of anger, suspicion and disconnection. 

 

As for the duplex, I ended up learning how to do most of the work myself. It nearly killed me, and it only took 2 years instead of the 3 months I had delusionally imagined, but after lots of actual blood, sweat and tears, I did eventually turn this little crackhouse from hell into a successful furnished rental, mostly renting to traveling professionals at the two local hospitals and people working at the local college. I can proudly say that as a landlord, the experience I offer my tenants is a home that is safe, cozy, attentive and reliable.

 

Eventually though, I realized I wanted to come back home to the world of healing. I had traveled to Thailand for a retreat to study yoga and Buddhist mythology (mid-house renovation, mid-online harassment post-landlord Tiktok video) where I had a debilitating anxiety attack on the 48 hour sleepless trip there. It was in that period of suffering that I surrendered- again- and realized what I am on this planet for is not to be rich, not to manipulate peoples’ opinions of me to satisfy my ego, not to check off the societal milestones of what makes me worthy as a human in capitalism- but to pursue the growth of the spirit, and guide other souls onto their own path of healing. This epiphany was followed by deep learning, immense peace and understanding, and a visceral knowing that I was on the right path. 

 

I later moved to Brazil and spent 6 months in Florianopolis, where I was immersed in so many amazing healing practices. I did various ceremonies: with ayahuasca, psilocybin, cacao, with the Huni Kuin people, a Tendo Vermelho, and sound healing ceremonies. I participated in a benzimento, and discovered the incredible poetry and blessings of Benzedeira Camila Gomes. I got to experience loving meditation groups, incredible yoga, and learning from and forming friendships with people who were totally connected to nature and spirit.

 

I began formally studying how to help others heal within this holistic and somatic-based framework. Some of my favorite highlights are a training with an indigenous Ojibwe medicine woman on finding our internal medicine using the four points of the medicine wheel, and a sacred intimacy course, where I learned about erotic intelligence and the magic of being at home in one's body and sexuality. I took a Brazilian Ayurveda course, and a trauma-informed coaching course. I took a course in how to fully hold people in their healing journeys, in both individual and group facilitation. I love learning and my process, education, and journey will forever be ongoing.

 My practice and the modalities I offer are multi-faceted- I help people find peace, safety, and empowerment- within their bodies, within an imperfect society, and within the non-linear mystical universe where all souls reside.