I was born in New Hampshire and grew up in a fairly sheltered world. I went to Waldorf school from kindergarten through twelfth grade, which deeply shaped the way I see and move through the world. Waldorf gave me a profound relationship to imagination, nature, creativity, beauty, and the arts.

Dance and musical theater were the places where I felt the most alive. They were where I felt most connected to myself, most expressed, and most at home in my body.

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At the same time, I was a chubbier kid, and I received a lot of reflection from the world around me that my body made me less worthy, less desirable, and less acceptable. Those messages got in deep.

After graduating high school, I moved to Boulder, and soon after, I developed a severe eating disorder. I struggled with bulimia for about four years, trying desperately to heal a pattern that was harming me on every level.

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What finally helped me find my way back was not rehab or traveling or living in my car 

It was embodiment.

It was dance.
It was movement.
It was learning how to feel right and at home in my body again
It was slowly, slowly building a relationship with my body that was based on listening instead of fear.

Truly, my daily practice started by sitting with my hands in my lap for at least 15 minutes after eating a meal.

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Through body-based practice, I came home to myself. I fell back in love with my body, my aliveness, and my life. That experience became the foundation of my devotion to somatic healing.

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I went on to study SomaSoul at the Leven Institute and became deeply immersed in somatic therapy, expressive movement, and body-led practice. I have also been a student of Five Rhythms and other movement-based healing spaces that helped me understand the body as a doorway into truth, emotion, transformation, and spirit.

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I spent two and a half years helping run large BDSM and Kink events in Boulder. That world became the place where I had my erotic awakening. Dance and embodiment had brought me back into love and connection with myself — and from there, I was able to explore what it meant to be in my eroticism in community.

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That experience showed me the profound importance of integrating our eros instead of exiling it.

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I began to understand eroticism not just as sexuality, but as life force. As vitality. As the pulse of desire that moves through every part of being alive. As the part of us that knows what we want, what we love, what we ache for, what we are ready to reclaim, and where our deepest yes lives.

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For me, erotic reclamation became the missing piece of wholeness. It brought more self-love, aliveness, confidence, sovereignty, and more permission to live as all of myself.

I no longer had to hide or compartmentalize the very thing I had felt shame about for most of my life. Integrating my erotic life force became one of the foundations I built my life on.

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These days, I live in Boulder with my wonderful dog (she’s a whole other story). I spend a lot of my free time hiking with her, being on the land, and letting nature be part of my own ongoing practice. I feel deeply connected to the beauty of this place, and to the ways the natural world continues to teach me presence, intuition, rhythm, and belonging.

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At the heart of everything I do is a devotion to collective awakening through individual reclamation.

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I believe every person who comes home to themselves and learns to live with more presence, integrity, and integrated power becomes part of the healing we are all living inside of. 

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This is the work I am here for.