What if the thing you’ve been trying so hard to change isn’t the thing that needs changing?
For much of my life, I wondered how I could be so capable in some areas and struggle so much in others. I spent fifteen years working with patients in medicine, where I was effective, trusted, and able to take in complex information — and I could lose my keys every day. I was always reading, learning, and thinking, yet things that seemed straightforward for other people could leave me overwhelmed or unable to get started.
I knew I was sensitive. I knew I thought differently. What I didn't understand was how those things fit together.
It wasn't until I began reading about ADHD in women that much of my life started to make sense. I began to understand executive function, working memory, and why a mind capable of seeing and connecting so much could also become overloaded by seemingly simple things.
For years, my reference point had been how most people do things. Eventually, I began asking a different question: What works for a mind like mine?
“Acknowledging our differences means recognizing the gifts they bring—and the answers that come from them”
That question changed far more than how I understood myself.
Throughout my career, I had already been learning the answer in other ways. I spent years working with children with developmental differences and significant behavioral challenges. Many were bright and capable but could become overwhelmed by demands that appeared ordinary to everyone around them.
I learned to pay attention to the finer points of my interactions with them — to recognize when pressure was increasing resistance, to communicate without overloading, and to provide clear direction while still seeing the individual in front of me.
And I watched something remarkable happen.
When children felt understood, and the approach fit how they could respond, they didn't simply become more cooperative. Their willingness grew. Their creativity appeared. Their capabilities often went far beyond what others had expected.
My fifteen years of equine bodywork deepened that understanding in an entirely different setting.
Horses taught me to pay extraordinary attention to what I bring into an interaction — to notice the subtle shifts between resistance and willingness, and to understand how connection can change what becomes possible.
Across very different parts of my life, I kept discovering the same thing: When we stop forcing the individual to fit the approach and start shaping the approach around the individual, more of who they are and what they’re capable of becomes accessible to them.
“Resistance doesn’t always mean no. Sometimes it means we haven’t found a way through yet”
That understanding is at the heart of how I coach today.
I know what it is to have a mind that can be brilliant, creative and deeply perceptive — and still feel completely in over its head. I also know the difference it makes when that mind is no longer treated as something that needs to operate like everyone else's.
As an Intuitive Strategist and Coach, I bring that perspective into every conversation. We begin with you — how you think, what you notice, what matters to you, where things become difficult, and what happens when we approach those places differently.