For most of my life, I thought I was just "nice." Agreeable. Easy. A perfectionist who cared deeply about doing things right.

I didn't know I was fawning.

The Pattern I Couldn't See

As I got older, people-pleasing became the lens through which I experienced everything. My relationships. My work. My sense of self-worth.

I learned early—at seven years old—that love was conditional. That if I could just be perfect enough, agreeable enough, helpful enough, the emotionally unavailable adults around me would finally see me. Finally love me.

So I became excellent at disappearing myself.

I linked my worth to how much I could accomplish. Toxic productivity became my identity. I over-committed to everything and everyone. Rest felt dangerous. Boundaries felt impossible.

On the outside, I looked successful. But inside? I was running on empty. Burned out. Resentful. Completely disconnected from who I actually was underneath all that performance.

My inner critic was relentless: If you're not perfect, you won't be loved. If you're not loved, you'll be abandoned.

That fear drove everything. And it was exhausting.

The Moment Everything Shifted

The turning point came when I finally understood: this wasn't my personality. This was fawning—a trauma response.

All those years of people-pleasing, perfectionism, and self-abandonment? They weren't character flaws. They were survival strategies I developed as a child trying to stay safe in an emotionally unpredictable environment.

My nervous system had learned: Disappearing yourself = Safety. Making others comfortable = Love.

And once I saw that pattern clearly, I couldn't unsee it.

Understanding fawning syndrome changed everything. It gave me language for what I'd been experiencing. It helped me see that I wasn't broken—I was protecting myself the only way I knew how.

And that meant I could learn something different.

Coming Home to Myself

Healing hasn't been linear. Some days I choose myself beautifully. Other days I slip back into old patterns of over-giving and people-pleasing.

But I'm learning. Slowly. Gently.

I'm learning that my worth isn't tied to my productivity. That rest is sacred, not selfish. That boundaries don't push people away—they create space for real connection.

I'm learning to let my nervous system catch up to what my mind knows: choosing myself is safe. Having needs is okay. I don't have to be perfect to be loved.

And most importantly, I'm learning to come home to the version of myself that existed before the world taught me to disappear.

She's still here. And she's been waiting.

Why I Do This Work

This journey—from fawning to freedom—inspired everything I do now.

I started my coaching practice with one mission: to help women recognize the patterns that are keeping them small, so they can finally come home to themselves.

Because here's what I know to be true: you're not broken. You're not too much or too sensitive. You learned to survive by making yourself small. And now you're ready to take up space.

Think of a lily trapped beneath a net. The flower is whole, beautiful, ready to bloom—but the net keeps the petals from opening.

That net? It's the conditioning from your past. The limiting beliefs. The fawning patterns that once kept you safe but now keep you small.

My work is simple: I help you remove the net. So you can unfurl. So you can bloom. So you can remember who you were before you learned to disappear.

A Little About Me

I'm also a mother and a wife. I'm creative—currently working on my first book. I love to write, to create, to explore what it means to live authentically.

And I'm still learning. Still practicing. Still choosing myself, one gentle moment at a time.

If any of this sounds familiar—if you're tired of making yourself small, exhausted from people-pleasing, burned out from trying to be perfect—I want you to know: there's a different way.

You don't have to keep abandoning yourself to feel worthy. You don't have to earn the right to have needs. You don't have to be perfect to be loved.

You can set boundaries. You can rest. You can choose yourself. And the people who truly see you? They'll still be there.

Let me walk beside you as you learn this too.

Does This Sound Familiar?

Maybe you're finding yourself completely burned out. Run down. Depleted.

Maybe you've over-committed yourself again because saying no felt impossible. Maybe you're managing everyone's emotions, everyone's comfort—everyone but your own.

Maybe you've lost touch with what you actually want because you've spent so long focusing on what everyone else needs.

If that's you, take a breath. You're not alone. And healing is possible.

Together, we'll work to shift these patterns. Not through force or willpower, but through gentle, nervous-system-informed practices that teach your body: choosing yourself is safe.

We'll create space for boundaries. For rest. For you to remember who you are underneath all that people-pleasing.

This is the work. And I'd be honored to guide you through it. 💧