At the prime age of 3, I knew what I was here to do. In joy with life on my third birthday, I walked outside from the party and looked up at the sky in gratitude and, knowing I wasn’t here alone, “got” that I was here to help show others the joyful gifts of life. That was the first confirmation I received.

People were a fascination to me, and singing with dreams of being on stage became my mode of expression. In first grade, however, as I walked to school singing and talking to strangers, my older friend stopped me, looked me right in the eye and told me I was ugly, had a rotten smile and a rotten voice. Devastated, I went into hiding over the next 20 years. Afraid to be pretty, afraid to be a woman, I stopped smiling for years, and I stopped singing only to hide behind a flute until well after college.

Becoming a music teacher I took children to the place where I left off... to get up on stage and sing boldly, express themselves and the truth of who they were, fearlessly and freely in front of their world. Parents began to seek counsel in me on how I was able to get their children to be so free, and I began giving workshops and private sessions to parents on how to bring out the best in themselves so they could facilitate the same in their children. At the same time the challenge began to come out of my own shell and out of hiding.

The challenge of a lifetime came upon me. Graduate school opened the doors for me to conquer my greatest fear, heal the old wound of hiding my truth, and give myself a voice again. I courageously took dance and acting lessons, and began to sing again with a divine voice teacher who helped me reclaim my true voice. A year later, I auditioned nervously without any piano accompaniment. When I finished singing, the director looked at my empty resume, looked back at me, and down again, searching. “Have you ever been in a musical before?”

“No, sir.” I feared.

He lowered his glasses, looked up at me straight in the eyes and said, “You mean to tell me you’ve been hiding that voice for this long?” I nearly cried. I was redeemed. I drove down the highway literally screaming out the window in the joy I had lost all those years before.

Back at school, I walked into my classroom, and nearly vomited. I was done teaching. I was done with the path that got me to where I was supposed to be: free to express myself and help others see the joy and gifts of being alive.

In all those years, I somewhat secretly maintained my interest in people and of being alive, and studied psychology and spirituality. I took, facilitated, and created life-changing personal growth seminars, earned my master’s in spiritual psychology, and studied with spiritual leaders who helped open me up to greater levels of truth.

And it is this that I bring to my practice. My burning fire to live life joyfully, alive, truthfully, and with the wisdom and eagerness it takes to grow and connect with life, God, Oneself. There is nothing more challenging than this, yet nothing more rewarding than giving yourself the freedom to truly Be. One incident can scar the rest of your life, if you let it. Or you can use it to fuel your fire, see how perfect it is for your path and life’s learnings, and catapult yourself into more freedom, joy, love, and truth you could ever imagine.

So, to the little girl who told me I was ugly with a rotten smile and voice, I tip my hat to you, for you have been my greatest teacher.