Let me take you back to a moment that defined the woman I am today...a moment rooted in struggle, resilience, and the pursuit of self-love.
As a young fourth grader, I remember the sting of being bullied on the playground. The laughter, the whispers, the isolation. It all cut so deep that the only safe haven I had was with the lunch lady, Bev, during recess and lunch. I didn’t feel comfortable in my skin or alongside my peers. The loneliness was overwhelming, so I removed myself from the situation entirely.
My young body carried extra weight, something even my mom commented on, often with a playful yet pointed tone. She would call me ‘slim,’ a nickname that felt more like a reminder of what I wasn’t. Her gentle nudges to leave food on my plate were well-meaning, but to my young mind, they only added to the confusion about how I should feel about my body—proud, ashamed, or something in between?
She would call me ‘slim' (an ironic nickname) and remind me I didn’t need to finish all the food on my plate. As a kid, it was confusing. Should I love my body? Should I change it? The messages were mixed, and my feelings were tangled. Bedtime brought me high levels of anxiety. I couldn't shake a restless energy that wouldn’t let me sleep. My body was changing, and so was my sense of self.
But then there was Bev. She welcomed me just as I was, no judgment, no expectations. I helped her prep lunch, serve it to my peers, and clean up afterward. Amid the clinking of trays and the hum of the cafeteria, we talked. Sometimes, those conversations touched on my body image. I still remember her wisdom: “Just wait till your hormones change. Your whole body will change with it. Be patient with yourself.”
Her words were a lifeline. Her kindness was a refuge.
That summer before fifth grade, I made a vow to myself. “This summer will be different,” I thought. “I will do the work. I will change how my body looks on the outside.”
Yet, deep down, a quiet truth stirred...the real transformation wasn’t about my appearance. It was about untangling the knots within, finding peace with myself, and learning to embrace the essence of who I was. Fifth grade came and went, and despite my efforts, I was still me. My body was still my body. Change didn’t come in the way I expected.
Middle school arrived, and with it, a shift. My body found a new shape as I matured. More importantly, I found my people! A group of friends who accepted me for who I was. With them, I began to discover something I hadn’t felt in a long time: a sense of belonging. I started to feel good in my own skin. Those formative years sparked my focus on health.
I paid attention to what I ate (salad bars became my favorite). I moved my body intentionally. Exercise became important. I became hyper focused on these things. Reflecting now, I see the rigidity I developed, like leaving for school on my bike at precisely the right moment to avoid waiting at a stoplight. I timed that out. Even as a seventh grader, I was orchestrating my world for control and predictability.
High school brought even more change.
By 11th grade, my family had moved several times, finally leaving the Bay Area for the foothills of Northern California. Starting over at a new school as a junior was challenging. I left behind the comfort of lifelong friends and the city I’d always known. Yet those experiences taught me the valued experience of resilience. Discovering how to adapt and flow with life’s changes, even when it felt overwhelming.
By senior year, the challenges of adolescence and change culminated in an eating disorder that followed me into college. It was a difficult chapter, but it also became a turning point. Through my struggles, there came a moment of clarity...a breakthrough where I realized that every choice, I made for my body was a reflection of how I valued myself.
It was no longer just about food, exercise, or routines; it was about listening deeply to my inner voice, honoring my needs, and finding harmony between my physical actions and my soul’s desires. That understanding became the foundation for the profound sense of peace and self-acceptance I craved.
So, where has my heart led me? What is it that I’m here to give to the world?
My journey has shown me the power of embodiment—to love, honor, and trust myself fully. I’ve come to realize that feeling good isn’t just about physical health. It’s about mental clarity, emotional peace, and spiritual alignment. When anxiety consumes how you feel and how you appear to others, there is no greater freedom than discovering the pure joy of feeling good from the inside out.
Through my experiences, I’ve found my purpose. I am here to hold a space for others to feel safe in their own embodiment. To guide them in a practice of loving, honoring, and trusting themselves. To help them take care of their bodies, minds, and spirits so they can live extraordinary lives.
Because when we nurture ourselves from within, we unlock the power to transform our lives—to embrace peace, radiate joy, and create fulfillment in ways we never imagined possible.
What is one way you can begin nurturing your inner world today? Reflect, and take that first step.
That is what my heart is here to give.
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