A life shaped by loss, trauma, and then love.

How I came to this work

For as long as I can remember, I have felt the world a little differently. As a child, I was deeply empathetic — the kind of child who could walk into a room and immediately sense the energy within it, feel what was unspoken, know what others were carrying before a single word was exchanged. I did not have a name for it then. I simply knew things, felt things, in ways I could not always explain.

I spent twenty-two years as a firefighter — a career that placed me at the threshold of loss, over and over again. I witnessed grief in its most raw and immediate form, held space for people in their worst moments, and carried the weight of that work long after each shift ended. That kind of cumulative trauma changes you. It also, I came to understand, was quietly shaping the healer I was becoming.

It was only later in life that I began to understand my gifts for what they truly were — abilities that had always been present, waiting for me to step into them. That understanding deepened through my own seasons of profound personal loss and trauma. Grief has a way of stripping everything back to what is real, and in that rawness I found both my purpose and my calling. I knew, with a certainty I had never felt before, that I was meant to help others find their way through the darkness — and to know, without any doubt, that love does not end.

I trained formally as an evidential medium, learning to bring through specific, verifiable details that could only come from those who have passed. I studied intuitive coaching and spiritual guidance, weaving together the practical and the profound. And I kept grieving, kept healing, kept doing the work — because this path asks that of you, and I would not have it any other way.