Come back to yourself.
I’ve always been someone who moves.
Before yoga, there was cheerleading, ballet, dance, track, volleyball. I’ve been a musician since my teens. I’ve always loved movement, expression, performance, and the feeling of being fully immersed in what my body can do.
So when I found yoga, that was what initially drew me in.
The movement. The challenge. The practice of learning a pose and seeing what my body was capable of.
But somewhere along the way, yoga became something much deeper.
The moment everything changed
In 2013, I was going through a breakup and processing what it meant to find myself on the other side of a relationship.
I had already built a relationship with my yoga practice and with the teacher who was guiding me at the time. There was a sense of safety there that I hadn’t realized I needed.
One day, during Savasana, I cried.
I don’t remember exactly what the teacher said. I don’t remember the words that brought me there.
I remember feeling safe enough to let the tears come.
For someone who had become very good at holding them back, that moment was profound.
I realized that this was part of what yoga could be.
A place to process.
A place to feel.
A place to become aware of what was actually happening inside of me.
Yoga became less about how well I could perform a pose and more about my relationship with myself.
That changed everything.
Yoga, for me, is about connection.
Connection to your body.
Connection to your breath.
Connection to your emotions.
Connection to the part of you that knows what you need, even when there is a lot of noise telling you otherwise.
As I began teaching, I found myself going deeper into yoga as a healing tool. My own practice continued to evolve, and so did the way I taught.
My time at 305 Yoga was especially meaningful to that evolution. It was where I was introduced more deeply to trauma-informed yoga and learned how to cultivate spaces where people could feel held, supported, and have a sense of autonomy within their practice.
It was also a space that held me through some of my own darkest moments.
I taught there for several years and continued studying through workshops and additional training centered around trauma-informed yoga.
Those experiences shaped the teacher I am today.
You don’t have to look a certain way to practice yoga.
Especially in an urban environment, wellness can sometimes feel like another place where we’re expected to perform.
To have a certain body.
To be flexible.
To do the advanced pose.
To look calm while we’re doing it.
To know whether we’re doing it “right.”
I don’t teach from that place.
If you can do a headstand, great.
If you can barely touch your toes, also great.
The pose itself is not the measure of your practice.
I’m much more interested in what happens when you begin to listen.
What happens when you stop asking, How do I look?
And start noticing, What am I actually experiencing?
My approach is grounded in autonomy, awareness, and acceptance. I want you to have space to meet yourself honestly, exactly where you are.
Sometimes that means slowing down.
Sometimes it means staying with a foundational pose long enough to discover that it can challenge you in ways you didn’t expect.
Sometimes it means noticing that your body is asking for something completely different than what you had planned.
There is room for all of it.
This is why I teach privately.
Private yoga allows us to create a practice around you.
Your body.
Your schedule.
Your energy.
Your experience.
Your goals.
There is no need to keep up with a room full of people or fit yourself into someone else’s version of what your practice should look like.
I come to you, so your practice can become part of your actual life.
And underneath the movement, my intention is always the same:
To help you become more present with yourself.
To create enough space to hear what is actually true for you in this moment.
To develop a relationship with your body that isn’t built on criticism or comparison, but on attention and care.
Because when you are more connected to yourself, you have a different relationship with everything around you.
Your choices.
Your boundaries.
Your relationships.
Your life.
My training
I’m an E-RYT 500 yoga teacher, with training that spans traditional yoga education, Yin Yoga, and trauma-informed approaches to teaching and practice.
My training includes:
- RYT-200, Green Monkey
- RYT-300, 305 Yoga
- Yin Yoga Certification, Nobe Yoga
- Trauma-Informed Outreach Certification, Connection Coalition
- Y12SR Certification, with Nikki Myers
- E-RYT 500, Yoga Alliance
I’m also currently completing Chris Brennan’s Astrology Certification Program, continuing a lifelong study of astrology that began when I was a child.
And then there’s astrology.
My relationship with astrology began long before I ever imagined it would become part of my work.
When I was in second grade, my grandparents would call me over whenever Walter Mercado was giving his horoscopes on Spanish television.
I was captivated.
That curiosity never really left.
As I got older, it became tarot, dream interpretation, wordmancy, and eventually natal charts during my college years.
Decades later, I’m still fascinated by the same question:
What can we learn about ourselves when we become curious enough to look more closely?
Yoga and astrology became two different pathways into the same kind of work.
Awareness.
Self-understanding.
Connection.
Coming back to what is actually real for you.
Come as you are.
My work isn’t about creating a new version of you that finally gets everything right.
It’s about becoming present enough to know yourself.
To notice what your body is saying.
To listen to what you’re carrying.
To recognize what supports you and what doesn’t.
And from that place, to choose what comes next.
That is what I hope you experience when we practice together.
More presence.
More connection.
More acceptance of where you are right now.
And perhaps a little less noise from everything outside of you telling you who you should be.
You don’t have to fix yourself to care for yourself.