ABOUT
The Full Picture.
I’m the ringmaster of a fairly unusual life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
01.
Melbourne.
The Beginning.
I grew up in Melbourne, Australia.
By age five, I knew I wanted to be a clown. Yes, I have the photos to prove it.
By fifteen, I'd won art prizes and had work shown in galleries. In my spare time, while other kids were doing whatever other kids were doing, I was checking books out of the library on how to speak to your spirit guides and read the stars.
During work experience as a graphic designer at a printer's, I remember thinking it might be fun to write horoscopes for magazines one day…
Clown-in-waiting. I wasn't discovering interests. I was always this person. Life has just kept giving me more room to be her.
02.
The Body.
The First Work.
Long before I had language for what I was doing, I was studying the body.
Immediately after high school, I trained in massage therapy; not as a career plan, but because I already understood intuitively that the body holds things the mind can't always reach. It offered real relief to me and others. However, it didn't feel like the whole picture.
So I kept going. Circus. Drama. Contemporary dance. A college degree that formalised the question I'd always been asking: What does it mean to be fully alive in a body, on a stage, in a life?
In my final year, I also certified as a fitness instructor and personal trainer, learning how to meet people exactly where they were physically and help them move forward. Looking back, that was probably my first real taste of coaching.
Massage. Movement. Drama. Fitness. The body is the site of everything from healing, expression, transformation, and joy.
Two decades later, that thread is still the one I'm pulling.
I didn't know then that I was building something. It felt more like following a thread.
03.
Los Angeles.
The Expansion.
In 2012, I moved to Los Angeles to expand my acting career, and found something larger waiting.
What began in front of the camera evolved into collaborative filmmaking, writing, directing, and producing. The whole apparatus of storytelling.
I got married and had a baby, and quietly thought this was the life I'd been building toward.
Los Angeles gave me the circus ring, the gallery wall, and the red carpet. All of it.
04.
The Unwraveling.
The Becoming.
Then life did what life does.
Single-motherhood and divorce. Rebuilding oneself when the story you thought you were living turns out to be someone else's.
In 2020, newly single, while working full-time, and homeschooling my son, I started writing about what I was discovering.
Not performing wellness. Not curating a recovery. Actually doing the work.
It was the uncomfortable, unglamorous, quietly revolutionary work of figuring out who you are when you strip away everything you were performing for everyone else.
I leaned into coaching from that place and got certified. Not because I'd arrived somewhere. Because I was arriving, and it felt too important not to share.
Not performing wellness. Not curating a recovery. Actually doing the work.
05.
The Practice.
Deepened.
Since then, the work has deepened. Today, I am certified and practised.
I've sat with enough people in their most honest moments to know that the gap between the life someone is living and the life they actually want is rarely about capability. It's almost always about self-worth, identity, and the quiet belief that they're not quite allowed to want what they want.
I work with people all over the world, virtually, intimately, across time zones and life stages. Artists and non-artists. Men and women. People in the middle of falling apart and people who just have a feeling that something needs to shift.
You don't have to be in crisis. You don't have to be creative. You just have to be ready.
06.
The Evidence.
A Love Story.
The love story I didn't plan on, but was ready for.
Because the work, works…
We were both drawn to the same Monday night karaoke. (Who goes out on a Monday?!)
We were both intuitive enough to recognise something was happening.
We were both far enough along in our own becoming not to run from it.
We live together now.
We would not have been in the position to find each other six years earlier.
That's not just romance. That's evidence.
We both wished for it.
And we both did the work.
07.
The Life.
The Art of It.
The creative work runs alongside all of it.
Fine art showing in Los Angeles galleries. Short films. Writing. I am part of a queer wrestling event that is exactly as absurd and joyful as it sounds. Homeschooling my son, which has taught me more about learning and curiosity than anything else.
I am the ringmaster of a fairly unusual life.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I am part of a queer wrestling event that is exactly as absurd and joyful as it sounds.
You’re here because something brought you here.
quietly trust that.