My Story

About ten years ago, my life was cracked wide open in a way I never saw coming.
It was one of those moments that knocks you completely off your axis — the kind that forces a reckoning. A moment where something inside you finally says, Enough. I can’t keep living this way.

I was seven months pregnant when I read the text message that changed my life forever.
The one that made my head spin.
The one that caused everything I thought I knew to collapse.

My husband was having an affair — one that had existed for most of our marriage.

In that instant, it felt like my worst fears were finally confirmed. 

The stories I had quietly carried for years rushed to the surface:
I’m not enough. I’m not truly lovable. Real connection isn’t meant for me. I don’t belong.

What hurt just as deeply was realizing how much of myself I had lost along the way.

My identity had become wrapped around pleasing others — especially my partner. I poured everything I had into that relationship while slowly abandoning my own needs, voice, and truth. So when I discovered the betrayal, it didn’t just break my heart — it shattered my sense of self. All the old wounds and unprocessed trauma I had buried for years came roaring back to life. 

Anger took over my body. My nervous system was constantly on edge. I was triggered by everything — a tone of voice, a memory, a passing thought.

Eight weeks later, my daughter was born… and I wasn’t fully there for it.

I desperately wanted to enjoy becoming a mother, but my mind wouldn’t rest. My thoughts spiraled endlessly. My emotions felt overwhelming and unpredictable. Each day felt unbearable, like I was bracing myself just to survive it. I felt pressure to make a choice, to move on and figure it out. But, I was so overwhelmed I couldn't see up from down. 

I didn’t understand then what I know now — that my system was stuck in survival mode, hijacked by pain I didn’t yet know how to process.

I was angry — at what he had done, yes — but also at myself. Angry that I had lost the parts of me that once felt vibrant and alive. Angry that I had learned to equate love with harshness, inconsistency, and self-betrayal. Angry that some part of me believed I deserved to be treated this way.

I started asking questions I could no longer avoid:
Why did I feel so unworthy?
How had I learned to silence myself to feel loved?
Why did connection feel so unsafe?

Then something shifted.

You know those moments when the truth lands so clearly that there’s no turning back? That’s what happened for me. I realized I couldn’t continue down this path — not for myself, and not for my daughter… now daughters.

I couldn’t teach them to love themselves while modeling self-abandonment.
I couldn’t carry bitterness and call it strength.
I couldn’t keep repeating cycles that hurt me and pretend it was normal.

I knew I had to heal — not by pushing the pain away, but by learning how to be with it.

That’s when I began to see how much of my happiness and identity I had outsourced to other people’s approval. I had spent my life hiding my needs to belong, shrinking myself to feel safe, and allowing my worth to be defined by others’ words and actions.

This kept me stuck — replaying old stories, seeking validation, and unknowingly recreating the same emotional dynamics in new relationships: romantic, friendships, work. 

My overthinking wasn’t random. My triggers weren’t flaws. They were signals pointing me back to myself.

Healing required something radically different than I expected.

It meant learning to sit with discomfort instead of fixing it.
To listen to my inner world instead of overriding it.
To stop performing strength and start practicing self-trust.

I learned that the person I needed to forgive most was myself.

The person I needed to accept most was myself.

As I practiced compassion, regulation, and honesty with myself, something profound happened. Presence returned. Joy returned. A sense of steadiness I had never known before began to take root.

It reminded me of something I’ve come to deeply believe:
that within each of us is the seed of who we’re meant to become — even when life feels shattered.

Just like an acorn already holds the blueprint for the oak, we already carry the wisdom, strength, and capacity to heal. Sometimes we simply need the right support, space, and nourishment for that growth to unfold.

My pain became a teacher — sometimes gentle, sometimes loud — guiding me back to my worth. I learned how to ask myself what I wanted and needed, and how to honor the answers without guilt. I allowed light into the wounds I had kept hidden for so long.

And slowly, I began to show up differently — in my relationships, in my motherhood, and in my life. I rebuilt trust with myself. I chose myself. And in doing so, I created space for deeper, healthier connection with others.

The result wasn’t perfection — it was peace.
Confidence. A sense of coming home to myself. Relationships that feel safe, nourishing, and real.

This is why I am so passionate about transformational work.

Through Mighty Acorn Coaching, I support women who feel emotionally hijacked by overthinking, triggers, and painful relationship experiences — women who are exhausted from walking on eggshells in their own lives.

I’ve been there. I know the loneliness of wanting guidance from someone who’s already walked through the darkness. Today, I offer the loving container I once needed — a space where you can slow down, reconnect with yourself, and learn how to feel steady again.

Healing isn’t about fixing yourself.
It’s about learning how to deeply care for yourself — with honesty, compassion, and trust.

And when you do, everything changes.