Presence is My Essence

A love letter to the woman underneath it all.

The Sacred Pause: Beyond the Identity of Doing

I didn’t arrive here by choice. It was a rupture that brought me to stillness.
Years of serving, striving, mentoring, healing, holding…until one day, I couldn’t anymore.
And in this quiet, sacred space, I met the woman underneath it all. 

Me.

Not the woman constantly reaching for her next breakthrough. Not the mentor, partner, light-bringer, or business leader. 

Just… me.

The woman I’ve always been beneath the becoming. The pulse of presence that lives beyond identity, success, productivity, or pain. The essence that has never left me, even when I wandered far from her.

I didn’t realize how far I’d drifted. It wasn’t one dramatic rupture – but rather a slow, subtle erosion of self over years of intensity. Seven years of love, loss, leadership, and constant recalibration. Seven years of trying to be the most evolved, radiant, higher version of myself – until something in me fractured under the weight of trying to hold it all together. Somewhere in the past three or four years, I lost the map to my own heart. I became a master of many things… but I forgot how to just be with myself. Without the mask. Without the performance. Without the pressure to be anything other than human.

The Breaking That Brought Me Home

The return didn’t come wrapped in light.

It arrived through a rupture.

Through a painful, disorienting ending that left me questioning everything. A relationship that cracked me wide open—one I thought was love, but in truth, held hidden layers of trauma bonding, projection, and unmet need.

The betrayal stunned me.

The loss shook me.

And while part of me wanted to move on quickly, to transmute it into wisdom, another part knew I had to actually feel it. Grieve it. Let it undo me.

So I did.

I let it wreck me.

And in that raw space, a quiet truth surfaced::“You don’t have to keep abandoning yourself to be loved.”

That whisper changed everything. It became myanchor.

I began asking questions I hadn’t had the courage—or space—to truly ask before:

• What environments actually nourish me?
• Who can I trust to sit with my truth, not just celebrate my shine?
• Where does my nervous system soften, and where does it brace?
• What parts of me have I sacrificed in order to be seen as successful, strong, or spiritual?
• What do I need, not to achieve—but to feel real again?

I don’t have all the answers. But I can feel something returning. A softness. A self-honoring. A willingness to be more honest, even if it’s messy. A refusal to keep pushing past my own truth just to maintain a version of me the world has come to expect.

The Collective Unraveling—and the Path Home

And I know I’m not alone.

This unraveling, this slowing down, this quiet revolt against the over-performance of human experience – it’s not just mine.

All around me, I see women — coaches, mothers, founders, visionaries, artists — waking up in the same way. 

e’ve been carrying so much for so long.

Many of us have mastered the dance of appearing grounded while secretly crumbling. We’ve learned how to show up as radiant light-bringers in a world that doesn’t always make space for our shadows. But beneath the curated confidence, there’s a quiet ache. A longing for something more true.

We are, collectively, in a season of return. The speed, the noise, the artificiality of our world—especially in this time of hyper-productivity and increasing AI—has pulled us into the mind, into the scroll, into the external metrics of worth.

But our bodies know better. Our hearts remember. There’s a primal truth inside us that aches for real connection.

For slower days.

For relational safety.

For presence.

For friendship that doesn’t need a calendar link.

For conversations that don’t need to lead somewhere.

For sacred spaces where we can cry and laugh and breathe and not have to perform healing—but actually be witnessed in it.

So I’m making space. First, with myself. But also, with others who are walking this path of return, who are choosing gentleness over hustle. Depth over performance. Stillness over spinning. Not because they’ve given up—but because they’ve remembered what matters most.

Presence.
Care.
Being.

If You’re in the Middle of It Too…

If you’re reading this and something in your chest softens, if there’s a quiet knowing that you too are being called to come home—not to your brand, not to your goals, but to the pulse of you—then I hope you’ll honor that call. Let it be tender. Let it be slow. Let it be sacred.

We don’t heal by doing more.

We heal in the presence of presence.

And I’m finally, gratefully, coming home to mine.

If you feel the resonance, if you want to sit in these conversations too—not to fix anything, not to build something—but just to be real together… you’re welcome here.

Send me a message.

Let’s remember who we are—beyond it all.
Presence is our essence.
In that I’m ready to rise.