I just returned from something that stretched me—literally and spiritually. ✨
I hopped on a plane to a place where I didn’t know a soul, and I came home with a full heart, a deeper understanding of fascia and healing, and a tribe I didn’t even know I needed.
The MELT Immersion wasn’t just a training—it was a transformation.
First, I learned that I am powerful.
I know that might sound a little wild to say out loud, but stay with me. I’ve always talked about how my dad had this larger-than-life bravado—the kind of presence that filled a room without him saying a word. People noticed him because of who he was, not just what he said. And this past week, I realized: I carry that same energy. I command a room—not with arrogance, but with grace, warmth, and a deep love for people.
That realization came with so much gratitude. It’s like my father passed down this quiet confidence that’s been waiting inside me, and I finally saw it for what it is.
I also saw my sweet mom in me.
She was a caretaker through and through. And somewhere along the way, I became the resident social media helper and fairy hair lady at our training—teaching, serving, laughing, connecting. I didn’t even mean to fall into that role. It just… happened. And in doing so, I realized how much I love teaching. How natural it feels to guide others with compassion, creativity, and kindness.
Over and over, the women I met said, “You’re so patient. You explain it so clearly. And you never make me feel dumb for asking again.”
That’s when it clicked: I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Teaching babies at Preston Center Dance.
Helping women find their worth again through MELT.
Meeting people right where they are and holding space for them to grow.
I also learned I can do hard things.
Neuro strength work? Whew. It nearly fried my brain. But I kept showing up. Kept trying. Kept practicing. And guess what? I found it. I found the movement, the rhythm, the connection.
That’s who I am—I don’t give up.
I love teaching.
I love healing.
And I love that God is still growing me.
Another thing I discovered? I love meeting new people.
Different ages. Different stories. Different spiritual beliefs. But when you find one common thread—like healing, or curiosity, or even just a roller—you realize that all the other stuff? It doesn’t matter. We saw each other. Encouraged each other. Built each other up. Loved one another.
What a gift this past week has been.
And would you believe… I had the sweetest God wink?
It was Saturday night. I was standing in the ocean during a sound bath, letting the waves and frequencies wash over me, when I looked up and saw the moon. It was hanging low, new and crooked—exactly like Janie’s smile.
Janie was one of our precious dancers we lost in the flood July 4. Her smile was unforgettable—wide and joyful, with the tiniest, most perfect tilt.
I looked at my new friends and said, “I feel Janie here with us.”
And later that night, I saw that one of the other mamas—whose daughter Hadley also went to be with Jesus in the same flood—posted a photo from a year ago. It was Hadley, wearing the same hat my friend Luci had been wearing in the ocean during the sound bath.
I couldn’t wait to show Luci.
They were there. I just know it.
Dancing to the rhythm of the water, smiling in the moonlight.
These little signs were God’s way of telling me,
“They’re okay. And you’ll see them again.”
