I remember…

I remember..

Ballet class.

And trying to squeeze into my pink tights and black leotard.

I remember…

How the tights made an impression around my belly, that no leotard, skirt, or dance shorts could hide. To my great disappointment.

I remember sucking in my stomach because I believed having any kind of belly made me overweight and therefor “bad.”

I worried that I was the biggest girl in class.

I remember comparing myself to the other girls.

I wished I had slimmer, streamlined bodies like theirs.

I remember looking in the mirror and seeing a flailing mess of a 10 year old girl.

And when I think back to this girl who hated the sight of herself so much, I give her a soft pat on the back and a giant hug. I tell her she is enough, exactly as she is. Smart enough. Strong enough. Beautiful enough.

I tell her it’s ok to have the extra cookie at snack time. She’ll grow into her body and one day look back at photos of herself and be amazed by what a dancing fool she was!

I tell the 10 year old version of me that one day she won’t care about doing sit-ups or eliminating all the fat from her body. And that it’s gonna feel so freeing!

And she’s going to look to other women for support and inspiration, instead of comparing herself.

This is a small part of my story. And I can’t help but think, some of it might resonate with you. Or your children. It’s why I created my Raising Role Models program.

Where we, as adults, provide the best opportunity possible for the children and youth in our lives to grow up with self-esteem and healthy body image.

Please take a look at the mini training I put together. In it I offer 3 shifts you can make TODAY, on your own that will shift not only your own body image, but also your child’s.

Click here to watch my Raising Role Models video.

And if you’d like to learn a little more, I encourage you to sign up for a free call with me this week by clicking the link below.

Click here for your free call with me.

With love, always,

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What is the purpose of our deepest emotions?

Our deepest and darkest emotions are not merely to put us in an everlasting state of sadness.

How many times have you experienced pain only to ask: Why? Or … Why me?

We don’t experience pain simply for pain’s sake.

Osho explains this concept very eloquently:

This pain is not to make you sad, remember this is where people go on missing… this pain is just to make you more alert – because people become alert only when the arrow goes deep into their heart and wounds them.

Take a moment and consider the moments in your life that have really moved you. Pushed you forward on your journey.

It might have been the end of a relationship, a death, a betrayal, or financial struggle.

But what happens when the arrow pierces us deeply in our heart?

If we are open to it, we become more alert and wake up to the world around us and the gifts the universe has in store for us.

We make decisions based on what will truly serve us, help us heal, shift us away from unhealthy patterns.

And sometimes we do need the arrow to go deep to become more alert. Sometimes we do need the wound to wake up.

When we are more alert we become connected to our truth instead of our ego.

And when we connect with truth over ego, our slate gets wiped clean and we see things more clearly. Our path is less clouded by the weeds of distractions and priorities come into alignment.

So the next time you are confronted with pain, or even discomfort, sit with it and see where it takes you. Allow it to wake you up to something perhaps you’ve never truly seen before.

May our learning never end.

With Great Love,

PS. Click here if you’d like to schedule a discovery call with me. I’ve got time slots blocked out for the next week or so and would love to connect one-on-one with you.

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Opening Up About My Experience in Relationships

This morning I woke up feeling shitty.
Migraine and broken hearted.
Not just over my most recent split, but all of them.
There is a voice in me saying – come clean.
You’ve hidden all of this for far too long to keep it up and put on a brave face.
My heart is full of scars that have not fully healed and it’s coming to a head.

All of it.
The men. The relationships.
The stories I’ve clung to that have built up resentment.
The roles I not only played but also identified with.

Whenever a relationship took a turn for the worse, I’d turn to food or controlling my appearance somehow [running, over-exercising, or dieting].
I focused on: how do I control?
Instead of: How do I leave room to heal?
It was always brush it under the rug.
Drop them. Drop him.
Let him go.

Well, I did let him go. Every time.
Maybe a little too much.
I moved right on to the next one. Without a second thought.

But the residual pain clung tightly – wrapped around my heart.
Tighter and tighter as time passed.

And it brings me to right now.
Piles of relationships and breakups never fully processed.
All of the pain is coming to the surface.

I bounce from one memory to the next in my dreams and in meditation.
Uncovering decisions I make now that are based on past experiences.
Not always proud of the way I treated people.
Often wishing I’d let myself be single and process.
And witnessing the shame I feel about not processing these break-ups the “right way.”

Now I’m processing them in my way.
On my terms.
In my own time.
I’m giving these experiences the attention they deserved.
Maybe they should have received this attention years ago.
But I’m here now and doing the best I can.

I’m grateful that something in my last relationship called this to my attention.
Maybe because of the mild depression I felt in the springtime.
A clear indication that there was pain that had not been dealt with.
Maybe because I started finding my voice and stepping into my power.
For the first time clearly articulating my deepest desires.

This is not easy stuff to share.
The easy way would be to brush it under the rug and keep the notes in my journal and tell the world “I’m fine.”
The more difficult path is doing this: share.
Share and tell my truth.
Stop withholding from the world and from myself.

Because … Why on earth would we ever cover up any parts of ourselves?

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Caring for the cracks in my heart

Sometimes I feel like I just keep banging my head against the wall.

I make the same mistake over and over again and wonder how many times until I get it?

Until I stop?

Until something changes?

Maybe the change has to first be my mindset.

Where I understand the mistakes to take on a new meaning.

These mistakes are actually lessons.

The lessons test, and often break, my heart.

And in the end they make me more resilient.

My recovery time gets shorter.

Maybe they are lessons to grieve past trauma I’ve buried deep.

Because we can’t truly heal unless we go through a grieving process…

Unless we feel all the feels.

Process all the things.

And digest.


The heart gets cracked open each time I am vulnerable.

And the way to mend the cracks [and make them stronger] is through love and taking care of myself.

It is in this way that I can be of service to those closest to me and to this world.

If I don’t tend to and care for the cracks, I cannot serve from a place of deep love and compassion.

I know I’m here to serve, so I’m going to continue caring for the cracks.

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This is hard to share… [But allows me to step into my power]

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I hate what I see.

Like when I’m naked after a shower. I’ll wonder why I wasn’t born with perfectly toned arms. And why did god give me such soft cushioning around my hips?

Thankfully this is the exception now rather than the rule.

I consider it residue from my eating disorder.

I consider it residue from years of hating and bashing my own body.

For as long as I can remember {we are talking 5 years old here} I’ve been aware of my little belly – this little pooch – and was obsessed with “how do I get rid of it?”

Before I understood how a woman got pregnant, there was a time when I’d worry my belly contained a baby in it. {Maybe only 9 years old at this point.} I felt relieved for a while, knowing it would probably just go away.

When I learned what crunches were and that they’d give me washboard abs like the women on MTV’s Spring Break, I counted crunches. And then always wondered why nothing was changing…

I snuck cookies from the cookie jar and then felt overwhelmed by immense guilt and tried to eat more carrot and celery sticks to make up for it. Especially since I learned you burned more calories chewing celery than you could consume from them … something like that…
One of the only full length mirrors in our house growing up was in my parent’s bathroom and I vividly remember tracking my progress. Standing sideways as I looked in the mirror, flattening my tummy until I achieved the look I was going for. Flat as a pancake.

I was determined to one day get there.

So determined that my negative body image and horrible relationship to food spiraled into a full on eating disorder in college. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be sticking my finger down my throat, making myself puke into a dorm room toilet. I did this for years and one day someone told me “take it one day at a time” – after this I was on the path to recovery.

It took a while and many ups and downs and exploration of self. And more pain. But once I jumped on the path I have never looked back. I only see glimpses of the residue my eating disorder left behind. The moments when I look in the mirror and for a second step out of my power.

And now when I sit down with other women who tell me they too had an eating disorder and that THEY TOO hid it from most people closest to them my heart simultaneously aches AND feels joy.

I ache for the fact that they went through the pain alone. They blamed themselves for everything. They sought control through food and exercise.

The joy comes from knowing the relief that accompanies sharing. When we share our stories of struggle, grief, and pain we unburden ourselves of shame.

It’s because I let go of shame about my body that I can stand in front of myself in the mirror and say “hell yeah!” to my body. I can embrace my little belly and the cushion around my hips.

So what’s your body image story? What are you carrying with you that is creating blocks from seeing your own light? From saying “HELL YEAH!”?

If you feel like sharing, I have time this week and would love to listen and guide you toward releasing body shame. Click below to set up your free discovery call.


Here’s to stepping into your power,


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It’s OK To Want These Things… {Just Please Be Kind}

It’s OK if you want to lose weight…

So long as you do it from a place of loving yourself. Where you are losing weight primarily for your health and to look great because you know you deserve it. You’ve gotta accept yourself as you are first for the real change and growing to occur. Otherwise you’ll always feel like you’re not enough.

It’s OK if you want to get in great shape…

Because you want to show your body how much you honor it instead of punish it. And because of you – no one else: no man, woman, or group in society can tell you how you are supposed to look. Get in great shape for YOU and you alone.

It’s OK if you want to lay off carbs, alcohol, or sugar for a while…

But be sure you are not depriving yourself of enjoying the things you love. Be sure this is not a way to torture yourself because you feel you’ve done something “bad.”

It’s OK if you want to exercise daily…

Just know that when you move mindfully, this can have a powerful impact on your body and your energetic vibration. And when we exercise out of obligation, we end up feeling worse – physically and spiritually. Please make exercise a practice about loving your body not hating it.

It’s OK if you feel crappy about how you look sometimes…

We all have our moments. But remember to source your inner power. Remember a time you were strong and made it through something. Re-live it. Feel it all over again. You’ll be amazed at how powerful and beautiful it makes you feel.

I share these thoughts with you because, I know we all need a little nudge sometimes. We all need reminders to lift ourselves up. And sometimes, often times, we do need accountability and support from one another. If you’d like to chat this week, click the link below to set up your free discovery call.




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When things don’t go the way you want…

On the way to meditation this morning, I got a flat tire. And a wake-up call.

I left my house expecting “create more calm” and ended up having a scattered, stressful morning.

Just as I turned into the parking lot I heard a loud pop and felt the tire go out.

I had enough time to pull into a parking spot and dig in my bag for my Triple A card. I started to dial.

I needed to get this fixed. I believed:

-I was being punished.
-I had done something wrong (like eat flatbread the night before) to deserve this.
-This horrible, frustrating thing was happening TO me.

It took a moment but I put my phone down. Left my car with the flat tire in the parking lot, and walked into meditation.

The meditation was all about how powerful it is to STAY. Especially when we are in an uncomfortable situation.

The flat tire was a perfect example. I stayed.

My first reaction to the flat tire related back to my belief of: “I am always in trouble.” Here I was doing penance for my bad actions:

-Eating a “bad” food
-Getting softer around my midsection
-Not being as diligent with my exercise schedule lately or…
-Not being as kind as I could have when breaking up with an ex-boyfriend

I noticed this belief of always being in trouble { I’m in the process of shifting} reared it’s ugly head when I got a flat tire.

It hit me: the flat tire was NOT the universe’s way of punishing me.

Instead it was the universe’s way of teaching me how to stay, stop, and slow down. And see things for what they really are:

-Just a flat tire.
-Just a decadent meal.
-Just doing my best in a break-up.

These things are neither good nor bad. They simply are.

The fact that I’ve gained a bit more softness to my figure lately has nothing to do with how good or bad I am. It has nothing to do with my self-worth!

So … I stepped into this morning expecting calm, cool, and serenity.

And what I got was a jolt.

I got another wake-up call to keep building the muscle of body love and body awareness.

This morning did not go the way I wanted. It was uncomfortable, frustrating, and scattered. But as I waded through the messy morning muck, I stumbled upon a clearing, and a deeper connection with my deeper self.

My higher self, being, soul … ached because I was judging my evolving body. My soul needed love and compassion. So I gave it just that, went home, and entered back into my meditation.

So you see, when you go through a hard time – whether it be a flat tire or a life changing event – there is always, ALWAYS, a breakthrough on the other side.

And it’s in these instances where we must remember:

You are not being punished.

These instances give us opportunity to dig up what no longer serves us and make space for new:


You must get out there and STAY when things get uncomfortable or messy or scattered. There is so much power in our ability to stay.

It can be hard to stay and often we need support when life feels messy. I’d love to chat with you to show you how.



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Finding Daisy

Yesterday my dog Daisy tried to run away. She ran away. She ran so fast out of my friends driveway. I watched her dart into the busy street. Barely escaping a truck. And up the hill and then – she was completely out of sight. And there I was – sprinting in Birkenstocks up the giant hill. As if running would help. But my mind was racing. Going to all the worst possible outcomes. I didn’t even need to go to the worst possible outcomes – I was living it. I was waiting to wake up from this nightmare. I lost my beloved dog that I JUST rescued. All the plans I had for us raced through my mind. My heart crushed at the thought of never finding her again. 

My friend swept me up in her minivan and we drove circles around the neighborhood – asking every pedestrian “have you seen a little dog?!?!” Desperation and fear held tight around my heart. After some time and now feeling more defeated I thought to look around one of her favorite spots – the little dog park near my apartment. I ran up there and into the woods surrounding it. Didn’t think twice about the poison ivy I was traipsing through. I called her name as sweat dribbled down my face and into my mouth. No sign of her. I was beside myself – again that feeling of when does this nightmare end – and I started to walk back. 

A woman saw me and said if I was looking for a dog she saw it run up toward the park. Immediately I turned around and went back to the same spot. I called Daisy’s name. I waited. I got quiet. I was going to find her. I could feel her presence near me. I knew this wasn’t the end of our journey together. I called her name again and thought I heard the jingling of her collar. To be sure, I called again, got quiet, and listened… 

Yes – it was her collar. I crouched down and stayed in one spot until I saw her coming up over a rock. About 40 feet away from me. This was it – I knew I had this one chance to get a second chance with Daisy. Stay stay stay – I told myself. I talked the sweet sing song talk to Daisy and she slowly stumbled toward me. She was limping but here she was just an arms length from me. All of the fear of losing her started to melt away as I slowly wrapped my fingers around her collar, took a deep breath, and swooped her up in my arms. 

We walked down the hill where there was a shaded clearing and I put her down and sat as I collected myself and told her how much I loved her and more sing song tones. I was given a second chance and I couldn’t fucking believe it. She ran all the way home. My dog ran home – to our spot! My heart swelled with joy and still is and probably will continue to do so for as long as Daisy is in my life. 

And so when I pulled this card this morning – it took me back to that big deep breath in the woods when I found Daisy. When I wrapped my fingers around her collar. A feeling of – Peace Peace Peace. There is no need to worry right now. Everything worked out beautifully.

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Why I’m Glad I Stayed…

Yesterday I had one of those days…
I went to my friend’s magical island.
I didn’t have my phone because it crashed that morning.
What I did have was a swimsuit, a dog, and a willingness to receive the day.
I felt groggy and had a headache from too much wine the night before.
My heart knew though, I needed the island and the friends there.
I needed to say fuck it to getting my cell phone set up in time.
Of course the normal panic of “what if so-and-so tries to contact me?”
I even went through all the texts I would miss out on that day.
The missed opportunities to post on Instagram and Facebook.
Missed opportunities to check in on what my friends were doing.
I made an intention to surrender.
I surrendered to feeling naked without my phone.
I surrendered to cherishing time with my dog and the people around me.
I am an introvert so after paddling and hanging poolside with the group, a little panic started setting in…
I immediately wanted to jump off the island and swim to shore, to my car, and go home.
But I couldn’t. For one I had a dog. And two … all my stuff?
My body felt tired and creaky and in need of rest and space and alone.
Alone, alone, alone.
I just wanted some time alone. I felt it deeply.
I meandered up the path to the tea house on the hill.
Perfect: yoga mats were draped over the porch banister of the tea house.
I took one and set it down on the floor.
Daisy the dog circled around the porch, watching birds and passersby on sailboats.
I liked to think she was also keeping watch, for me.
Bikini-clad, I felt the breeze against my skin.
I began to move in a way that felt natural to my body in that moment.
I moved, I sat, I breathed, I moved, I sat some more.
Daisy came and went, licked my feet when I sat.
Finally, after who knows how much time had passed, I laid down.
I draped my sarong over my shoulders and torso, unfurled my arms and hands by my sides, and gently closed my eyes.
I slipped into sweet slumber while the sounds of Daisy’s pitter patter on the porch and the chirping of birds lulled me in and out of this state.
I heard the motor of a boat every so often.
It didn’t bother me.
I welcomed it.
Here I was – so free.
No one knew where I was. No one could reach me. No one could find me.
No one, except the two little girls on the island that day.
They were 3 and 5.
I started feeling the thump thump of their running feet coming up the stairs of the tea house.
One of them squealed with delight: “Oh it’s Daisyyyyy!”
And I was tickled with delight to be brought out of my slumber by such dreamy innocence.
So I stayed.
I stayed on the island when my introvert-self screamed to get out and hide and be alone.
It’s like what we learn in meditation: when we stay, the real work occurs.
When we stay, we allow the softening to happen.
When we stay, we are more able to receive each moment as a gift.
AND when I stayed I got to go for a sunset sail with friends and Daisy.
I’m so glad I stayed.

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Thank you yoga, Thank you teachers.

It’s International Day of Yoga. My friend reminded me last week with a little nudge, nudge and soft encouragement that maybe I should do something for it.


I don’t have any special class or event planned and I’m hoping I’ll make it to class tonight or even to my mat to move a little and meditate. But what I will do, what I will honor is what this practice has done for me. And what I have been able to do for myself by way of my yoga practice.


I used to squeeze my thighs so hard to try to get them to look more stick-like. I’d pinch my belly fat and imagine how much better my life would be if I could just cut it off. I calculated every calorie going into my body and how each calorie (and then some) would go out. My mind was consumed and I was completely obsessed. My obsession with food and how I could control my body took over my life.


Yoga sandwiched my eating disorder. My practice began when I was 16 and my eating disorder was full throttle around 19 – so I was practicing yoga all through my disorder. But what I know now is that during a lot of that time, I wasn’t really practicing. I was going through the motions of yoga. Showing up, rolling out my mat, bowing my head and saying namaste at the end of class. I nailed poses ease because I’m fairly strong and fairly flexible and have always had great proprioception. What I wasn’t doing though was connecting. I was completely disassociating from my body and for a while there, I was using yoga as just another form of exercise to burn off those calories.


This all shifted when I found a small studio in Bloomington, Indiana and a teacher by the name of Wendy. I didn’t even know what style of yoga we were practicing (turns out it was astanga) add to be honest I can’t tell you a whole lot of the asana that I learned – but what stays with me to this day is the feeling of entering into a safe space. It was always quiet when I walked into the building, up the stairs and turned the corner. Everyone spoke with a hushed tone as we set up our mats and gathered our props. The space and the time was sacred.


Wendy didn’t tell me how or what to feel. She instead created opportunity for me to feel. I kept returning to her classes, as often as I could fit them into my schedule and budget. It was in this space that I remember looking at thighs and bursting into tears because for the first time I saw them as something other than “too big.” My thighs, for the first time ever, were strong and beautiful and amazing.


I came home to my body for what felt like the first time. That was inner peace. That was my invitation to heal and no longer allow myself to stray and disassociate from my body and being.

This was the tip of the iceberg and there have been many more teachers since then who helped facilitate my healing – and still do to this day. So, I can’t stress this enough but  … Thank you teachers.


IMG_9114On this international day of yoga I also want to acknowledge the practice for what it has brought me – healing and inner peace. Eating disorder recovery is not a one and done deal. It takes time and it too is a part of my practice: staying the course, staying connected, noticing when I get triggered, and repatterning my responses.


Thank you yoga.


I would love to hear from you: How has yoga impacted your life? Whether you just recently got your feet wet or are a long-time practitioner – what have you noticed?


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