03/09/2026
This is a part of my story I’ve never shared publicly before.
The path that led me to massage therapy was anything but straightforward.
If I’m being honest, sharing this part of my story publicly feels a little vulnerable. But I also believe honesty and realness matter — and if my journey helps even one person feel less alone, then it’s worth sharing.
On Friday I shared a little reintroduction for those who are new here and mentioned that my path into this work had a longer story behind it. Today I wanted to share a little more about that.
Massage has actually been part of my life for as long as I can remember.
Growing up, my mom, sister, and I would treat ourselves to spa days at Personal Reflection Day Spa, and even before I ever considered this as a career, I loved how massage could help people feel better.
I was also the person friends and family would ask to massage their shoulders, and I’ve always been naturally drawn to caring for and helping others feel better.
But when it came time to choose a career, I took a more traditional path.
I earned my bachelor’s degree and spent several years working in the corporate world. In the beginning I actually enjoyed it — I built great relationships, learned a lot, and gained experience that I’m still grateful for today.
But over time something started to feel off.
I realized I was working constantly, making good money, but had very little time to actually live my life. And the more I stayed in sales, the more I began to feel like the work itself wasn’t aligned with who I truly was.
I even tried a different corporate role hoping it would feel different, but eventually I had to be honest with myself — this path just wasn’t fulfilling me.
Around that same time, my personal life had also reached one of the lowest points I had ever experienced.
I was deeply struggling, carrying the weight of a lot of trauma, and honestly didn’t know how I was going to find my way forward.
In 2022, I made the decision to enter an Intensive Outpatient Program at HopeWay in Charlotte, a program focused on trauma recovery and mental health healing — something I’ve never shared publicly before.
I spent several months there doing intensive group and individual therapy while learning healthier coping skills and rebuilding my sense of self.
I can’t thank that program or the people there enough.
That program didn’t just change my life —
it saved my life.
During that time I kept coming back to one simple question:
What kind of life do you actually want to build?
And for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to answer that question honestly.
Two things kept resurfacing for me — a long-standing desire to live out West, and the dream I had quietly carried for years of becoming a massage therapist.
So when I completed that program, I took a leap of faith.
I left my corporate career, sold my home, and moved across the country to Portland, Oregon to attend massage school at East West College of the Healing Arts.
It was one of the biggest and most transformative decisions of my life.
My education gave me the clinical training and mentorship that shaped the therapist I am today.
But my passion for trauma-informed care comes from something deeper than education alone.
Having navigated my own healing journey, including living with PTSD, I understand how important it is for people to feel safe, respected, and supported in their bodies.
That perspective is something I carry into every session.
Looking back now, every chapter of the journey — even the difficult ones — helped guide me to the work I feel deeply honored to do today.
And somehow along the way, that same journey also led me back home to West Virginia, to my husband, to my faith, and to a life that feels more aligned than I ever thought possible.
Life will always have its ups and downs.
But today I can honestly say —
life is good.
And I’m incredibly grateful to do work that helps people feel better in their bodies every single day.
Because when someone walks into my treatment room, I know how powerful it can be to simply feel safe, supported, and cared for — sometimes in ways words can’t fully explain.
And being able to offer that space for others is an honor I never take for granted.
