Becoming a mother forced me to confront the ways childhood trauma had shaped my nervous system. Struggling with anxiety, stress, and the fear of repeating my father’s patterns, I began searching for healing. What followed was a series of strange coincidences that led me into the world of sound healing and synchronicity.

After my father died when I was seventeen, I spent years pushing down the pain of a traumatic childhood. Becoming a mother reopened old wounds and revealed the anxiety I had never recognized in myself. This story explores grief, childhood trauma, and the moment I finally began the process of healing.

By the time I was a teen, my dad’s drinking had taken over our lives. Some days he was the funny, charming man everyone loved, and other nights I braced myself for the anger that came through the door with him. Eventually the people who truly became my family helped me make the hardest decision of my childhood: I didn’t have to go back.

My dad was many things: a handyman, a town character, a man battling his own demons, and a fiercely proud single father. In our tiny apartment he created a home the best way he knew how. This post reflects on the complicated love between a father and daughter learning how to survive life together.

A childhood marked by addiction, poverty, and chaos as my mother struggled with drugs and abusive relationships. After years of instability, homelessness, and trauma, everything changed the week of my eighth birthday when I was put on a plane to live with my father in Iowa.

Loved ones from the other side visit to bring reassurance, healing, and closure.

Head in hands, I asked God for a sign. The spirit of my father answered.

How questioning atheism, aliens, and consciousness led to our move to Costa Rica

Why we sold all of our possessions before starting over in Costa Rica.