Here's what that looks like:
I was 17 when I first learned to recognize my fundamental yes—the one that comes from my whole system, not just my thinking brain.
I came home from a trip away, and the moment I walked through the door, life at home caught up with me. I was carrying a lot—the one-year mark of my stepfather's passing, the grief I hadn't fully processed, the overwhelm of complicated high school relationships weighing heavily on me.
My mom tried to come hug me, and in that moment I realized: if I do not leave, I will turn into a person I do not like.
It took me a year and a half from that moment, but I began pouring energy into finding my way out. By the time I turned 19, I had moved into my own apartment. I graduated high school living alone. And I was relieved—even with all the other feelings that came up from life alone.
The clarity of 17-year-old me in that moment drove me to make the right decision for myself. And as soon as I did, it allowed me to cope with my reality differently because I was doing something about it.
That pattern of recognizing the yes—and learning to trust it—showed up again and again.
At 23, I was planning a trip to Vietnam to be near my not-quite-boyfriend of the time. Everything was falling apart. The logistics weren't lining up. The teaching job wasn't working in my favor. The timeline kept shrinking. Nothing felt congruent.
But I didn't know what I was doing instead—I just knew Vietnam wasn't it.
When I began to consider other options, New York became a thought. And the yes was so strong. The reasons to go just kept stacking up in my favor. New York became seamless to organize. It was so simple. And it became a formative trip in my early 20s.
A year later, that same clarity came again.
February 19th, 2015. I walked out of my final college course and never set foot in a university building again. I knew: this is done. I am no longer a university student. I am ready for what comes next.
I spent almost two years traveling after that. I learned so much because I made both wrong and right decisions. I created beautiful relationships and I also burned bridges. And I learned the difference—viscerally, in my body—between saying yes from survival, from misalignment, versus saying yes when everything has clicked into place.
When all the atoms in my body are vibrating. When the energy inside of me is saying: yes, this is it, this is the connection, this is the energetic alignment I've been searching for.
I also learned what it feels like when I ignore that clarity.
I worked with a woman who was not in a healthy mind. I stayed in her home for five weeks, and by the end of it, I had trauma to unpack from the verbal abuse I suffered with her. It took me a while to recover. But it taught me the kinds of relationships I was inviting in and the discernment I needed to practice.
By the time I was ready to settle down, I had options to weigh: Atlanta or New York.
New York was familiar. I knew what I might be signing up for—crashing on my dad's couch, struggling to find work, the unspoken expectations I'd already set myself up for.
Atlanta I hadn't even visited yet. But I had an opportunity to, which I took. And I experienced so many beautiful synchronicities. Even with a recent breakup complicating things—a guy I'd been in another pseudo-non-relationship with who was based in Atlanta, who was in the same circles I knew I'd run in—I still felt it: Atlanta feels good. I want to be here. This is where I want to build.
That congruence led me to meet my husband. To notice the moment where I was ready to meet my husband. To notice the clarity that I even wanted to marry him—when I'd never conceived of getting married before.
Each time I felt that clarity, it led me forward. And eventually, it led me to the moment of acknowledging: I am a relationship intuitive. That is what I need to call myself. That is the piece that makes all the multidimensional aspects of myself fit together.
This is the work I do with my clients.
Helping you distinguish between the yes you think you should say and the yes your whole system is actually saying.
Learning to read your own signals clearly enough to know what's actually aligned.
Not by analyzing more, but by shifting your relationship to how you experience your reality—so you can feel the difference between forcing and flowing, between survival and alignment, between should and want.
I'm not changing what happened in your past. I'm not even changing what you feel about it.
I'm helping you change your relationship to it—so you can access the clarity that's already there, underneath all the noise.
