For most of my early life, I wasn’t the narrator of my own story. I was a puppet on strings, perfectly poised and ready to perform at the flick of my puppeteer’s wrist. The world around me had been carefully curated, and it was my job to stick to the script. Unfortunately for me, the role I had been cast in couldn’t be further from my true self.

16 years were spent in that role before this puppet finally cut her strings. After that, I was in free fall. I watched silently as the nurse shuffling through my bag snipped the drawstring out of my sweatpants. No strings, no underwire bras, no sharp objects, no phone. Not while you’re in the psychiatric hospital. Had I not surrendered to help, this would have been the end of my story.

· · ·

Now, it’s the beginning. My yoga journey began not long after. I was 17 years old when I started practicing. I had just moved out of my hometown, and signed up for a semester of yoga at the local community college. After the first class, I was hooked.

Yoga classes quickly became my safe haven to relax, decompress, and feel a little bit more like myself. Twice a week for an hour, I felt at ease. The rest of the time, I was go, go, go. Between the never-ending rotation of lectures and work shifts, my time in college flew by. I spent two years at Santa Barbara City College, a semester abroad split between the University of Queensland, Australia and Solomon Islands National University for Public Health & Environmental Research, and graduated from UC Santa Barbara in one year with a Bachelor of Arts in Communication. After graduation, I hit the ground running.

A year and a half later, I had completely burnt out. I had spent most of my time in college working as a banquet server at a well-known luxury hotel. After years of dedication, I finally made it to front of house operations. Standing in the lobby in my red velvet blazer and kitten heels, it was my duty to pass out cookies and hot chocolate that holiday season. After handing out the hundredth gingersnap, I snapped. Sobbing to my manager, I blurted out, “I didn’t go to college to be the cookie lady!” That was when I realized, it was time to step into the unknown, to allow a new story to unfold. Within the week, I sent in my resignation and booked a trip to Spain for a 200 hour yoga teacher training.

I completed my certification in Ashtanga Vinyasa, Pranayama & Meditation at the Yoga Bubble in Conil de le Frontera, Spain in early March of 2020. I caught the last direct flight home and landed in a world that had been completely shut down.

With many of my favorite yoga studios closed, some temporarily and others permanently, I turned my attention to assisted stretching. I spent the next 4 years working at a boutique fitness studio, at gyms, a chiropractic office, and with independent clients. During my time, I trained many other practitioners, led various developmental trainings and workshops, and completed a few additional certifications myself.

It wasn’t until 2 years after completing my initial yoga training that I was finally able to start teaching full-time. Beginning in 2022, I taught yoga at a summer camp in Sequoia National Park. I spent a few seasons there. One night in July of 2024, a small group of us were watching the sunset after work, when another counselor asked me, “Why did you start doing yoga?” I responded, “Oh that’s a sad story, I’m not sure you all would want to hear that.” But they were encouraging, so I obliged. As the sunset melted over the mountains, I shared my story from start to finish. Little did they know, the beginning of that summer marked the 10 year anniversary of the darkest days of my life. A decade’s worth of healing, leaving nothing but an emotional scar behind. A scar that I could now comfortably speak about, knowing I had made it out alive.

Spring of 2026, I assisted the 200hr Yoga Teacher Training at Trilogy Sanctuary. That was the first time I led with my story; the whole story, from the true beginning, not just the workplace burnout “cookie lady” story. I had a habit of telling the story of how I became a teacher, and conveniently leaving out what brought me to yoga in the first place. When I told my story to a group of students for the first time, my voice wavered and cracked. I was terrified of being seen, of being too much, but the response was overwhelmingly positive. I no longer felt ashamed of my story, but empowered by it.

Through practicing yoga, I found beauty in anguish. My worst nightmare transformed into a dream. Now I get to tell wonderful stories of life, love, hardship, overcoming, endurance, every time I step onto the mat. These stories come to life through asana, creative sequencing, music, healing touch, all weaving together to create a transformative experience. I’m so excited to share the tools that guided me most through my journey. Let these be your chisels that help you carve out your own unique story. Use them however you’d like; be it in your own personal practice, for a creative endeavor, or teaching to a room full of students. I can’t wait to see how your story unfolds ♡