About Me

When I was young, I was very clear about a few things: I wanted to write stories. I loved animals. I didn’t like the way I saw them treated most of the time.

I also had a spiritual connection to the natural world that was hard to explain. I felt at home in the woods, where magic seemed real and the animals felt like family. Surrounded by ancient rocks and soaring trees, the world stretched big enough to contain my dreams.

I turned one dream into a reality and wrote my first novel when I was twelve.

Fast forward to high school, and I was so miserable I thought something inside me must have broken. I felt like I was inside a thick, glass jar and the rest of the world was outside of it. I felt empty except for a sucking black hole that corrupted everything before I could touch it.

Faced with the demands of school, increasing self doubt, and my belief that I had to be perfect, I stopped writing stories. I hid my love of animals. I lost the magic of the woods.

I spent years trying to achieve my way to happiness.

I moved to California and worked as a cashier, baker, tenant organizer, program manager, international volunteer, marketing manager, senior associate for investor relations, office manager, receptionist, community manager, and director of operations. I even got an MBA.

I did well, got promoted, accomplished my goals. But I still wasn’t happy.

In my late twenties, I went off my anti-depressant medication and slipped back into the dark waters of despair. When I started having panic attacks, I was humbled enough to seek help from a therapist and face my depression head-on.

In therapy I learned just how disconnected I had become. I was avoiding my emotions, suppressing my desires, trying hard to keep it all together.

Only when I finally let it all fall apart did I start to heal.

I began to understand that my flaws, far from alienating me, actually deepened my connection to other human beings, as sometimes the only thing I shared with someone else was persistent imperfection.

Eventually, with lots of time and help, I found my way again. I began to feel not just better, but more whole. It was as if one by one, long-absent pieces of myself I hadn’t even realized were missing were returning home to roost within my breast.

Still, depression and anxiety never went away for good. They revisited at regular intervals, sometimes occupying my psyche like boorish houseguests for weeks or even months at a time.

I wanted to dismiss their residencies as random—and perhaps at times they were—but over the years I couldn’t help but observe an undeniable pattern:

I got depressed when I pushed forward without listening to what I was feeling. When I was once again seduced by the false promise of perfection. When I turned my back on the things that made me come alive.

Every time I stubbornly pursued a course of action that came from fear rather than inner wisdom, the pain would gradually get more intense, and before long I’d have to let go of whatever effort I was making to force my will upon the world and surrender to the guidance of something larger than my ego.

Listening to that guidance, I moved back to my hometown of Atlanta, Georgia, adopted 8 chickens, and started walking in the woods as often as I could.

I’m a certified Integral Coach and have a Masters in Business Administration from USF. In addition to one-on-one coaching, I also coach groups and lead workshops for organizations such as Emory University and the U.S. Peace Corps. I’m a former board member of the Georgia chapter of ICF and have served as an adjunct faculty member at New Ventures West coaching school in San Francisco.