The Moment I stopped Waiting to Feel Ready

Sometimes when I write the words embodiment mentor or nervous system guide, a little voice in my head whispers:

“Who do you think you are?”

The imposter syndrome is real.

Because I’m not perfect.

Because I still have moments of freeze, fear, and spirals.

Because I’m still learning how to soften instead of shut down.

But here’s what I’ve come to know deep in my bones:

Perfection is a lie we’ve been conditioned to chase — a goalpost that keeps moving, keeping us stuck.

I don’t want perfection.

I want ease.

I want flow.

I want permission to make mistakes, to try, to experiment, to live.

And I want to create spaces where you feel that too.

Because this whole “figuring it out” thing? That’s a mind game.

True transformation doesn’t live in the mind.

It may start there, but it has to be grounded into the body — into sensation, presence, breath, feeling.

And that’s what I teach.

Not from a mountaintop.

But from practice.

From the messy middle.

From lived experience.

Last year, I was at a retreat, and I felt a quiet nudge — the kind that makes your heart beat a little faster. I wanted to share a piece of my soul: my goddess yoga practice that I had been holding close. I didn’t know if it would be “good enough.” I just knew I wanted a safe space to shine… to practice… to be witnessed.

So I asked. Nervously.

And when I got a yes, I showed up — heart pounding, voice shaking — and I led it.

Something shifted in that moment.

Because I realized I could do hard things.

I could be seen.

And this year? I returned to that space rooted, clear, and powerful.

Not because the fear disappeared — but because I kept walking anyway.

This is what embodiment looks like.

Not perfection.

Not “figured out.”

But courageous baby steps into the unknown.

This is why I do what I do.

Not to fix you.

Not to “heal” you.

But to hold space for you to feel, to integrate, to remember who you are underneath all the layers.

We regulate.

We remember.

We rise.

And if that makes me a mentor…Then yeah, I’ll own it.