I’m a yoga therapy practitioner, 500-hour yoga teacher, and lifelong learner with a heart for supporting people through seasons of stress, change, caregiving, and reconnection.
My approach is gentle, individualized, and grounded in a simple belief: we don’t always need to push harder. Sometimes we need space to pause, listen, and discover what our body and life are asking for.
My path to this work began long before I knew the language of yoga therapy or nervous system regulation.
When my mother experienced a severe hemorrhagic stroke in 2006, life changed suddenly for our entire family—and for me personally. During visits to the hospital, I remember stepping onto the elevator to go to my mother’s room and suddenly feeling as though I couldn’t breathe. My heart would race. My body would react before I had time to understand what was happening.
I was eventually diagnosed with anxiety and began experiencing panic attacks related to what I was going through. At the time, I didn’t have the language I have today to understand how profoundly that experience had affected my nervous system. I only knew that I wanted to feel more like myself again.
That search eventually brought me to yoga.
I still remember how meaningful it was in my first yoga class to learn about my breath—not simply that I should “take a deep breath,” but that I could intentionally work with my breathing and practice techniques on my own when I felt anxious or overwhelmed. For the first time, I felt like I had a tool I could carry with me.
Yoga gradually became more than something I turned to during difficult moments. It became a way of understanding and connecting with myself. That curiosity eventually grew into teaching yoga and mindfulness and, years later, pursuing graduate study in yoga therapy.
Through that education, I found language for many of the things I had experienced years earlier—the relationship between body and mind, awareness, regulation, breath, and the ways our experiences can affect how we move through the world.
In many ways, yoga therapy brought my journey full circle.
Today, those experiences shape how I hold space for others. I know how meaningful it can be to discover practices that help you understand yourself, reconnect with your body, and feel that you have something you can return to when life changes unexpectedly.
For me, this work has truly been a journey back to myself—and my hope is to create space for others to find their own way back, too.
Caregiving has become another important part of my story.
For nearly two decades, my family and I have navigated life alongside the lasting effects of my mother’s stroke, and for the past several years, I have served as her primary caregiver.
I know the rhythms of caregiving—the appointments and advocacy, the routines and responsibilities, the love and connection, and the constant awareness of someone else’s needs.
I also know how easy it can be for your own needs to move quietly to the bottom of the list.
That lived experience gives me a particular understanding of caregivers and the people who spend so much of their lives caring for others. It’s one of the reasons creating spaces where caregivers can reconnect with their own bodies, needs, identities, and well-being is especially meaningful to me.
Caregiving is part of my story, but it isn’t the only story I hold space for. My work also supports people navigating stress, life transitions, motherhood, grief, chronic health concerns, and seasons when they simply want to feel more connected to themselves.
You deserve care, too.
You don’t need to be flexible. You don’t need to know how to meditate. And you don’t need to have everything figured out before you begin.
My approach is gentle, collaborative, and centered on you.
I believe you are the expert on your own experience. My role isn’t to tell you what your body should need or how wellness should look for you. It’s to listen, ask thoughtful questions, and help you explore practices that feel meaningful, accessible, and realistic for your life.
Together, we may work with movement, breath, mindfulness, rest, reflection, and other yoga therapy practices—always with room for choice, curiosity, and adaptation.
The goal isn’t perfection.
It’s greater awareness, connection, and trust in your ability to recognize what supports you.
