I know what it’s like to live in silence, shame, and survival.
My childhood and years as a pastor’s wife taught me to hide pain and seek approval, but they also awakened in me a deep call to fight for those who feel voiceless and unseen.
Today, I use storywork — narrative therapy that honors the past while attuning to the present—to help people uncover truth, heal trauma, and step into lasting transformation.
I straddle two worlds: familiar with the language and nuances of the church, yet safe for those outside it. This unique perspective allows me to bridge spaces where harm has occurred, offering compassion, truth, and hope.
I know what it’s like to live in silence, shame, and survival.
My childhood and years as a pastor’s wife taught me to hide pain and seek approval, but they also awakened in me a deep call to fight for those who feel voiceless and unseen.
Today, I use storywork — narrative therapy that honors the past while attuning to the present—to help people uncover truth, heal trauma, and step into lasting transformation.
I straddle two worlds: familiar with the language of the church, yet safe for those outside it. This unique perspective allows me to bridge spaces where harm has occurred, offering compassion, truth, and hope.
My Story
I believe the brokenness, injustice, and harm in the world are immeasurable. It’s no wonder so many of us spend our lives numbing, avoiding, or dismissing pain.
My own story began in a home of secrets and silence. Later, as a pastor’s wife, I found myself in another world where appearances and silence were equally valued. Those years taught me to seek approval at all costs, never disrupt, and live in ways that only deepened harmful patterns of survival—hurting myself, my body, and even my family.
The fragments of me — the parts that sought approval, the parts that kept quiet, the parts that longed to be free — all carried pieces of the story. My body, faithful witness, spoke in whispers of fatigue and ache until I began to listen and learn its language.
It’s because of my story that I cannot turn away from the profound need for healing in others. I feel a deep call to fight for those who have been taken advantage of, who feel voiceless, and who fear their story does not matter.
Storywork
The core of my practice is storywork—also called narrative therapy.
I have witnessed people set free from the silent grip of trauma, shame, betrayal, abandonment, and powerlessness. In storywork, we honor where you have been while attuning to who you are now. Within this sacred space, truth rises, healing begins, and transformation takes root.
I would not be where I am today had I remained hidden in suffering, fear, and silence. I invite you to discover the truth in your own story.
Why I do This Work
Shame and abuse shaped my life, but they also sharpened my ability to see and sense what others cannot.
For years I survived by reading every expression, shift of energy, and unspoken cue. What once kept me safe is now the very gift I bring into my work: guiding people toward truth, healing, and transformation.
I see through images, metaphors, nature, and movement—ways of noticing that help uncover what is hidden in a story. Healing comes when someone else helps us see what we cannot see alone. That’s why I am here. That’s what I was made for.
Credentials
LMHC, MA, NCC
MA in Mental Health Counseling – University of the Cumberlands
Narrative Focused Trauma Care Certification – The Allender Center
Trauma Narrative Group Training – The Art of Living Training Center
Soul Care Institute Certification – Potter’s Inn
25 years of ministry experience
Outside of Work
In my free time, you’ll find me most at home in simple joys — walking wooded trails, watching the sky shift its colors, or lingering over slow meals with friends and family, a cup of tea in hand and laughter that stretches long into the evening.
I love exploring nature and taking spontaneous adventures — often with the top down in my beloved Jeep on a sunny country road, my dog Houston happily riding shotgun with ears to the wind.
And when I have moments alone, my heart sings with music, books, and the simple joy of moving my body through dance.
