I was born into trauma—not just experiencing it, but born directly into a complex tapestry of generational pain. Those first three years of my life, when a child's brain is literally being wired for trust or survival, were spent in volatile instability. I learned early that survival meant becoming both a master of deception and keeper of silence. A toxic belief system took root: I held no value, I was unwanted, and any semblance of stability could be ripped away without warning.

When you're born into this kind of instability, your body and sense of self are never truly your own. What follows is a life shaped by this fundamental disconnect—moving through the world wearing masks because you never learned how to simply be.

When people ask why I became a trauma healer, the truth is: I didn't choose this path—it chose me. Every hard-won insight into trauma and healing wasn't theoretical knowledge learned in training. These were the very tools I forged to survive. Over nearly three decades of practicing healing arts and more than a decade as a trauma-informed healer, I've worked with hundreds of people in clinical settings, discovering that the deepest healing happens when we access the blocks that live in the body and the subconscious traditional talk therapy often can't reach.

I never planned to work with dreams. A Jungian psychologist invited me to teach yoga in her workshops, and something clicked that changed everything. I realized I'd been dismissing symbolic images that appeared during my practice, thinking they were distractions. In the context of her dreamwork, I suddenly understood: these weren't interruptions, they were invitations.

The place yoga takes you is the same place as the dreamscape—that liminal space where symbols speak louder than words, where the body holds wisdom the mind hasn't yet learned to hear. This discovery transformed my entire approach to trauma work. For those of us born into survival mode, we need pathways that honor the body's wisdom and access healing through symbol and sensation rather than story and analysis alone.

Through yoga and dreamwork, I've learned to help people uncover the hidden blocks buried in their subconscious—the places where trauma lives beyond the reach of conscious thought. When we strengthen that dream muscle, we access profound healing and discover we're not alone in our subconscious landscapes.

Your dreams are trying to tell you something. Your body knows how to listen. Together, we can decode the wisdom that heals—not just the mind, but the deep places where trauma lives.