Peace Breaks Through When We Let Go

It’s been a while since you’ve heard from me. Over the past year, I stepped away from blogging—not because I had nothing to say, but because life invited me into a season of deep study, personal transformation, and quiet integration.

I spent that time immersed in advanced hypnotherapy training, deepening my understanding of the subconscious mind and how lasting change truly happens. I also carved out space to rest and recalibrate after years of holding space for others. And, like many of you, I walked through some intensely personal challenges that reshaped me from the inside out.

I didn’t just study healing; I lived it.
I didn’t just talk about choosing yourself; I did it...

This past year asked me to look honestly at the ways I was still shrinking myself to keep the peace. What I found was a painful truth: sometimes, the people who say they love you are the ones who most want you to stay small.

In a time of rising cultural and political division, families are splitting—not just over ideologies, but over identity, values, and the right to live in alignment with your own truth. Like some of yours, my family was unable to navigate that vast divide of values.

For my family, it was politics blended with religion that ignited long-simmering combustibles. For you, it might not be anything tangible, just the sense of being manipulated and never quite enough. You feel it, and you wonder, “What is wrong with me?” Because we’re hard-wired to long for the appreciation and approval from our parents. That longing never really goes away, but sometimes the price is just too damn high.

It feels confusing.

My family of origin wasn’t always painful. I have many happy memories—camping, fishing, hiking, playing cards, and laughing. That’s part of what made these past few years so difficult.

Was I overreacting to the deeply hurtful comments?
Was it my fault that going home felt like walking through a minefield?

I asked myself those questions more than once.
Maybe I was too sensitive... or maybe I just couldn’t bear to face the truth:
That no matter how much I tried to be good, kind, or respectful, I would always be a disappointment in their eyes.

To them, I was doing life wrong.
To me, I was finally doing it right.

I needed to let go.

Let go of my longing. Let go of my striving. Let go of wanting them to be different.

I am born under the sign of Cancer, meaning I have pinchers and do not let go easily. But finally, when trying to breathe underwater felt suffocating, I let go.

I chose me. And it broke my heart.
But it also set me free.

That choice has become the foundation of the work I now do.

Hypnotherapy was a big part of my healing process, which is why I now offer it to others, paired with soul-centered coaching. In upcoming blogs, I’ll be sharing more about how this powerful combination helps rewire old beliefs, soothe emotional pain, and awaken the inner strength that was always there.

For now, I simply wanted you to know why I’ve been quiet.

And if you’ve been walking your own path of heartbreak and awakening, you’re not alone.

My practice is especially for those of you navigating the painful tension between loyalty to your family and loyalty to your Self. You were raised to please. Taught to stay silent. Rewarded for self-sacrifice, and punished—subtly or overtly—for authenticity.

Maybe, like me, you stayed far too long, hoping things would change.
But eventually, your spirit said: Enough. Let Go.

Now you’re here, trying to piece together who you are without the roles you once played.

Let me say this clearly:
You’re not broken. You’re becoming.

You came here to grow through this, to evolve, and to dance free.

My work combines hypnotherapy with compassionate, soul-centered coaching to help you rewire the beliefs that kept you small and reclaim the truth of who you are.

I walk with women who’ve gone low or no contact with family, not because they wanted to, but because it was the only path to peace. I work with those who’ve been told they are too much, too sensitive, too different—and are learning, slowly and beautifully, to turn those things into strengths.

If that’s you, I understand.
Truly.

And even this kind of pain can be a doorway to joy, peace, and radiant freedom.

I’m deeply grateful for all of it.
And I’m honored to walk beside you.