Being “the chill girl”. The capable one. The one who always says “no worries” while internally screaming. A lot of women have been trained to stay pleasant…even when it costs them. In the Soul Circle, we practice the opposite: naming what’s real, letting our bodies process, and building self-trust with other women who get it. Come connect with like-minded women, no matter where you are in the world. If you’re done performing, you’re welcome with us. Join the Soul Circle and meet your new sisters!

There are (already) so many amazing communities. But there are still, and always so many amazing opportunities out there as well... If you could start another community, what would it be about? What is that thing you'd love others to find out about as well that you are not yet giving (enough) attention to in your existing community?

If you’re reading this, chances are you or someone you love has been through the wringer of addiction. And if that’s the case, you know the worst part isn’t the withdrawals, the broken promises, or those gut-wrenching moments of clarity on the bathroom floor. It’s the shame. Oh, the shame. The kind that soaks into your bones, the kind that makes you believe every awful thing you’ve ever heard about yourself. But I’m here to tell you something: fuck the shame. No, really. Fuck it right in the ear. You don’t need that poisonous garbage holding you back anymore. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I’m an addict. I’ve lied. I’ve stolen. I’ve woken up in strange places with even stranger people. I’ve done the kind of things that should’ve written me off for good. But you know what? I am still here. I am still a person, no matter what I’ve done. And I deserve to be happy, to love and be loved, to leave something better than I found it. You can’t change your past. That ship has sailed, baby. But you can change your now. And your now is the next decision you make. Is it a step toward the light, or back into the dark? That’s yours to choose—every single day. Two years ago, I wrote those words and people took notice. It was the first time I felt like maybe, just maybe, my story could matter. Since then my world has cracked wide open. I got married. My husband adopted my two kids—last week, we sat in a courtroom and listened as a judge, in a court of law, told us how amazing we are. Full circle, all the way. I used to stand in front of judges praying for mercy. Now I’m standing there being told I am more than my past. That my family, built out of all this chaos and hope and hard work, is something to be celebrated. I left my safe clinical job. I started my own business—Progress is Progress—because I was sick of the one-size-fits-all recovery bullshit. I wanted to be the person I needed when I was clawing my way out. Now I get to do that. Every day, I get to show up for people the way I wish someone had shown up for me.