My Story



Yes, that’s a photo of me to the right, however it’s not a baby photo.  I was an early bloomer but not quite that much of an early bloomer.  Speaking of my birth, it was kind of kinky, only not in a Masters and Johnson sort of way.  You see, I chose to come a few weeks early and surprise my folks in the middle of the night.

I created a bit of a ruckus and lost a little oxygen in the process. I speak with a one-of-a-kind accent commonly called a speech impediment.  As a kid, I also had substantial coordination differences.  In seventh grade, I actually threw a shot put backwards during a track meet, (true story).

I spent much of my life hating feeling so different.

What I discovered from this extensive research project in self-loathing, is that constant self-criticism doesn’t get you what you want in life.  Plus, it’s just a drag!

About seven years ago, desperate for a change, I went to a yoga class, and then another and another, and then lots more.  I began to fall in love with my body and my voice.  This love was definitely not love at first sight.  My love for myself blossomed slowly as I engaged in more and more activities that brought me joy.  By treating myself with love, I did finally seize the freedom we all have, the freedom to love ourselves.

Now I can proudly say:

I love my voice.  I love my coordination.  I love me.