I am not here to perform.
I am not here to hustle for worthiness.
I am not here to make myself smaller to keep others comfortable,
or louder to prove I belong.

I am here to live awake.

I am a woman forged in the fires of truth — not the shiny, polished truths people post about, but the quiet, inconvenient, gut-level truths that rise in the dark and demand to be listened to.

I believe in listening deeply — to myself, to others, to what’s unspoken.
I believe transformation begins in the spaces we usually skip over.
I believe rest is a revolution.
I believe in sacred discomfort — the kind that comes before the breakthrough.

I have known burnout.
I have known grief.
I have known the sting of trying to do it all, only to find myself cracked open on the floor.

And I have chosen not to stay there.

Instead, I choose this path —
the one where I honor my capacity and trust my timing.
Where I build shelters mid-mountain,
celebrate the slow, hard-earned progress,
and let go of the myth that I must always be ascending.

I walk with others not to fix them,
but to witness them —
to hold space while they remember who they are
beneath the noise, beneath the “shoulds,” beneath the shame.

I coach not with scripts, but with soul.
I lead not with perfection, but with presence.
I ride not to escape, but to come home to myself.

I am here to speak the soft truths out loud —
the ones we tuck away,
the ones we mistake for weakness,
the ones that hold our liberation.

This is my work.
This is my calling.
This is my life — lived fully,
not flawlessly.

And I will not apologize for how fiercely I’ve fought to reclaim it.