What Loss Taught Me About Living More Deeply
I lost a close friend and business partner in an unexpected, tragic, and very public way. One moment she was here — laughing, making plans — and the next, she was gone.
about
My job isn’t to hand you answers.
It’s to help you uncover the ones already waiting in you.
Deep down, you already know the life you want.
You hold the pen; my role is to help you see it clearly and walk beside you as you write what comes next.
You can live with intention — and still trust life’s twists to guide you home.
For over twenty years, I worked in public relations, helping people and companies build polished stories,
shape their image, protect their reputations, and present what the world wanted to see. I built a career in the craft, but over time — and especially through my own life changes — I discovered that the real power isn’t in polishing a story, it’s in living one that’s true.
So much of my life didn’t go the way I planned — and I’ve come to believe that’s exactly how it was meant to be.
Divorce, loss, parenting through crisis, and eventually becoming an empty nester all cracked me open in ways I never expected. When the recession hit, I didn’t plan to reinvent myself — I had to. After ten years as a stay-at-home mom, I went back to work because life left me no other choice. It was humbling, disorienting, and ultimately transformative. I’ve grieved close friends taken too soon and am slowly losing my mother to Alzheimer’s. Each experience brought me closer to who I am at my core — reminding me that the moments we resist often hold the most meaning. They taught me that resilience isn’t about appearances; it’s about authenticity, acceptance, and the understanding that change often leads us exactly where we’re meant to be.
These days, I split my time between Los Angeles and wine country, where I wake up to a vineyard view I once only imagined.
Every time I look at it, I’m reminded that the life I have now was shaped by everything that didn’t go as planned — the losses, the pivots, the reinventions. That view is a quiet metaphor for what I know to be true: even the hardest changes can lead us to something unexpectedly beautiful.
But my story isn’t just about what I’ve overcome — it’s about what I’ve built. I was raised in a family rooted in unconditional love — the middle of three sisters, all completely different — and that early mix of connection and contrast shaped how I see people. I’ve raised two kind, grounded children, and I truly believe that kinder people make the world better. I helped co-found a charter school that opens doors for students who might not have had them otherwise, including many who will be the first in their families to attend college. I’ve built lasting friendships, shared my life with beloved animals, and found love with a partner who meets life with honesty, humor, and heart — a relationship that feels both steady and free. My life is full of connection, laughter, and meaning — and I bring that same hope and care to my coaching, walking beside others as they find meaning and clarity in the chapters of life they never expected to write.
Long before I was a coach, I was studying people. My bachelor’s degree in Sociology gave me a framework for understanding human behavior, and my career in PR taught me how stories are shaped.
Now, my coaching work brings those threads together — helping people reshape their own narratives with truth and integrity. My training under Martha Beck — one of the world’s leading voices in personal transformation — equipped me to walk beside others as they make sense of what’s shifting in their lives and begin to build something new.
Today, I coach people at crossroads — divorce, empty nesting, career reinvention, grief, identity shifts, or simply the quiet ache of wondering, is this all there is? I walk alongside parents who want to protect their children’s wholeness through divorce, professionals who feel lost in careers that no longer fit. I’m also a proud ally — showing up for those who don’t always have the support of family, and for parents who are learning that love means letting their children be fully who they are. And I work with young adults who are just beginning to shape their lives — helping them recognize early that they hold the pen, that they can live with intention, and that they can trust the turns.
Your story isn’t finished. Wherever you are — starting over, finding your footing, or just beginning — I’ll help you uncover the meaning, strength, and truth already waiting inside you. And if you’re ready to explore what that might look like, I’d be honored to walk beside you.
I’ve spent my life studying people and stories. With a bachelor’s degree in Sociology and over twenty years in public relations, I learned how identity and perception are shaped — but also how often they hide what’s real. Over time, I discovered that the real power isn’t in polishing a story — it’s in living one that’s true.
So much of life doesn’t go the way we planned — and I’ve come to believe that’s exactly how it’s meant to be. The moments we resist often become the ones that shape us most. I’ve lived through loss, reinvention, and change that cracked me open — and I’ve learned that resilience isn’t about holding it all together. It’s about living in truth and allowing every twist and turn to bring you closer to who you really are.
As a coach, I help people come home to themselves — to get honest about what matters and begin shaping a life that feels true. I work with people navigating turning points — divorce, career change, grief, identity shifts, or the quiet ache of wondering, is this all there is? I also work with parents who want to protect their children’s wholeness through change, and with young adults who are just beginning to shape their lives — helping them recognize early that they hold the pen, that they can live with intention, and that they can trust the turns.
I lost a close friend and business partner in an unexpected, tragic, and very public way. One moment she was here — laughing, making plans — and the next, she was gone.
When my son once told me, “Your kinder and gentler divorce made me just the right amount of tough,” I knew I had done something right in the middle of one of the hardest seasons of my life.
After a decade of raising my kids full-time, my husband’s business went under when the recession hit, and suddenly, I had to go back to work. I was terrified.
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