My Story

I was born in to a family of entrepreneurs.

An only child until I was three, much love was doted on me and I was the apple of my parents’ eyes. Then my sister was born. Three years later my mother birthed twins and then there were four.  Six is when I remember growing up, that was the last time for a very long time that I remember my world being anything about my wants and needs.

Don’t get me wrong, my parents loved me and my siblings, they did the best they could with what they had – this is simply my history and history doesn’t have to determine your future…although I didn’t learn this for a very long time.

Shortly after the birth of the twins, my mother’s mental health began to decline.  Another sister was born a year and half later, my brother two years after that and finally when I was eleven, my youngest sister came into the world. And then, there were seven.

My father worked very hard to provide for us and was gone most nights of the week.  At eleven, my mother’s suicide attempts began.  I lost count of how many times I called 911.

At the tender age of eleven, I became parent to my siblings; and confidant, encourager, therapist to my mother.   My attention was focused at home. Thankfully, school was easy for me and I frequently finished my homework in the 5 minutes before class or aced tests to make up for the lack of completed daily assignments. Though I was a very bright and engaging young woman, my social skills lacked. Books fed my mind and I read incessantly; classical series after series, reading was my life and escape.

As my mother’s illness took over our family, I gained weight.  By the time I was sixteen years old, I weighed nearly 180 lbs. and wore a size 16. This was not as acceptable in the early 1990’s as it is now. I coped with my lack of friends and home life by continuing to immerse myself in books. I read classics by C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, leadership by Stephen Covey and Ziglar.  I loved technology, business, and leadership and they became my inner world.

Though at the time I didn’t know it, the weight I carried disguised my hurt, shame and masked my thoughtful, hyper-sensitive, highly emotionally and dramatic personality.  I learned to be highly intuitive; my relationship with my mother formed my personality into one that could pick up one the slightest change in emotional energy.  I remember driving across town on more than one occasion only to feel an immediate need to return home where I would find my mother near death and needed to call 911.

Did I feel life was hopeless during those times? No, I didn’t know any better. The pain I felt pushed me into a relationship with God. I cannot remember a time when I did not hear His voice or know his name.

My father was religious, my mother spiritual. When I was young, we went to church as a family.  As I grew older, my mother’s absence and rejection of “religion” embarrassed my father and he coped with that through denial. Their relationship became more strained every year that passed.

Most of my growing up years, we spent in the local Baptist church; we attended every Sunday and nearly every Wednesday.  I have some very good and happy memories of being there. Being bright, I soaked in every ounce of what I was taught and topped the charts of my private school’s Scripture memorization and good behavior award list every year. Besides my constant mood swings, I was an easy child. My way to cope with the legalism of the religion in my life was to keep the rules and berate myself when I did not.

At nineteen, I met my husband; both of us ran from dysfunction, found each other, and combined our baggage into a matching set.  By God’s grace – we are still married- 85% happily, nearly 20 years later.

Age twenty-seven marked the year when my family of origin began to fall apart.  The next eight years brought the ruins of my parent’s divorce, the loss of the family business and home, a bankruptcy, the death of my first-born child and the suicide of my sister. They also brought the birth of Gabriel (my first – still born at 23 weeks), the Oldest (whom we adopted nine months later), Middle, and Little.  They brought the shedding of 115 lbs. and a new vision of myself, as mother, wife, and adult.  My life was filled with a complicated mess of busy joy combined with crippling shame and hidden rage.

At age thirty-five my eyes began to open and reality came into view. To add to the trauma that had already happened, I watched every one of my siblings wrestle with alcoholism, more suicide, methamphetamine and heroin abuse which left all but one near death and in rehabilitation.  It was at that moment, for the first time since I was six; I was no longer needed as a primary caretaker. I had set boundaries with my mother several years earlier and my children had grown to the age of self-sufficiency (at least for their primary needs). I began to see the facets of the brokenness of my family. We were a family who was highly religious, a group of children raised in Christian church and which resulted in an absolute mess that had poured out of it.  What I wasn’t allowed to question as a teen consumed me.  Why am I here?  What is the point? Am I really even valuable….to God, to others, to myself?

This began the unraveling process and eventual healing of my fractured soul.

At thirty-seven years old, I began the process of furiously tearing down every spiritual belief I had been handed or erected myself throughout my childhood and adolescence.  I examined every part, held them up to the light, and shattered those I no longer believed. I left the church.  I believed no one, trusted no one (including myself). Angry as hell, I threw myself into my career and business. I rejected God and replaced spirituality with marketing, business, and technology.  I built a successful web-design company, and moved into business consulting.

But I couldn’t escape, the haunt of my purpose and my calling still gnawed at me.  I began to long to return home; a place of peace with God and my belief system.  Every idol I built to replace those I had torn down had failed me and crumbled into pieces.  I remember the very day that peace came.  As I stood there in the rubble, I asked God to show himself to me. I stood in the barren wasteland of my soul, what appeared in the place of the manmade statues that had resided there, was filled with Spirit. Then, I understood God is spirit.  That is the day when I began to know God for whom He truly is. That is the day I began to understand who we truly are in him.

My story is the story of becoming whole – the journey of bringing every part of a fractured glass heart, tried by fire, compressed by pain, and transformed into the diamond I was created to be.  After so many years, I see myself with God’s eyes.

I am who I am and do what I do because of this journey. I reside at the intersection of spirituality, leadership, business, marketing, and life.  The foundation of my coaching practice and business is laid on the path I have traveled.  Every session, workshop, retreat, program, and tool is designed with the purpose of gaining a deeper knowledge of who God truly is, understanding better who you are uniquely created to be, discovering clarity in your calling, or putting a plan and tools in place which allows you take hold of it with joy.

I am who I am. I am not an expert. I am only your Sister on the journey through this terrain we call earth. What I offer you is the beauty of seeing who you really are coupled with business and marketing knowledge that can assist you in bringing your calling to life in a way that brings you abundance. I can help you find your story – a humble offering made through the beauty that came from the ashes of my own.