Coaching by Chandi
As the months passed, I knew I wanted more than survival.
I began taking intentional steps toward healing, shedding old identities, and stepping into the woman I knew I was meant to be. That inner work eventually led me to the kind of love I once thought was out of reach. The kind of love I wouldn’t have been able to receive had I not first done the work.
That love? He’s now my husband.
Today, I help women rewrite the internal scripts that no longer serve them and step into the healed, empowered version of themselves—the version that’s been within them all along.
I know I am not the only one with a similar story, and I don't mind telling mine. Whether you’ve experienced trauma firsthand, are carrying the weight of generational pain, or feel stuck in patterns of negative thinking and limiting beliefs—you deserve to live a life rooted in authenticity, freedom, and alignment with your highest self.
If this resonates with you and you're ready to shed the old programming, I invite you to book a free consultation. Your healing starts with one brave step.
I felt lost and worthless
At the time, I had just left an abusive relationship and was living with my now-estranged mother, caring for my 3-month-old daughter. I had no job, no car, and was grieving the loss of my brother. I felt completely lost—worthless—and overwhelmed.
But even at rock bottom, I knew this couldn’t be my daughter’s story. No longer could I hide behind the fact that what I thought was self-sacrifice was really self-abandonment. So I asked the hard questions: Had I contributed to my pain? Yes. Had my brother contributed to his? Also yes.
He left behind three beautiful children, caught in the same survival-driven narrative we were raised in—one built on fear and shame. Losing him forced me to confront the truth: I was still living that story. And I refused to pass it on.
I used the little money I did have to buy a little car outright. Then I gave myself 60 days. 60 days to start showing up for myself, my daughter, and a new oath - the only person responsible for changing things is me. I went to the library to use the public computers to create a resume, and I went around the old-fashioned way, applying for jobs. I eventually landed a position in education, and just around that time, I moved into a small apartment with my mini. I finally had the space to start over.
I enrolled in online school, determined to create a future that looked nothing like my past.
I was working over 50 hours a week, driving between clients, picking up my baby by 6 p.m., squeezing in workouts, cooking dinner, and staying up until 2 a.m. to complete schoolwork. It was exhausting—but it was mine. For the first time, I felt like I was building something real, no matter how slowly or painfully.