Finding TheThrough-Line
From Hollywood to high-end wine sales to helping people find their footing after burnout, my path has never followed a straight line. For a long time, I saw that as a problem. Now I understand it as preparation. Every pivot, every apparent detour, has carried me exactly where I needed to go.
I grew up in Pennsylvania and graduated from Penn State with a degree in Communications, determined to build a career in television and film. Not long after, I landed my first job on the set of The Sixth Sense as a production assistant. That early break pulled me across the country to Los Angeles, where I spent several years working on large-scale film and television productions. From the outside, it looked exciting. Inside it was something else entirely. Grueling hours, constant hustle, low pay, and a work culture that normalized exhaustion and quietly rewarded self-abandonment. The glamour faded quickly. What remained was a version of success that demanded everything and gave very little back.
Eventually, I stepped away. I returned to bartending, something I had always done between freelance gigs, assuming it would be temporary. Instead, it became the beginning of a new chapter. I started working at Fleming’s Prime Steakhouse and Wine Bar and suddenly found myself surrounded by more than 200 wines by the glass and very little understanding of what I was pouring. Curious and slightly overwhelmed, I gravitated toward the most knowledgeable people in the room and began asking questions. That curiosity turned into commitment. I enrolled in certifications through the Court of Master Sommeliers and built what would become an eighteen-year career in the wine and spirits industry. I worked with major companies, traveled to wine regions around the world, and developed a respected career on the sales side of the business.
And yet, something familiar returned. Despite outward success, the same pattern resurfaced: burnout, toxicity, hollow wins, and a creeping sense that the life I was building wasn’t actually mine. My creativity dulled. My joy thinned. I began asking the question I had learned to ignore: Is this really it?
Then the pandemic arrived. Like many others, I was laid off from a job I had been repeatedly assured was secure, at a prestigious global company that spoke fluently about loyalty and stability. I later learned how replaceable I truly was. That realization was disorienting, not just professionally, but personally. It forced me to confront something I had been avoiding for years: how often I had abandoned myself in pursuit of approval, security, and externally defined success.
In the stillness that followed — without a title, a paycheck, or anyone else’s expectations to meet — I finally slowed down enough to listen. What I saw was a pattern. I had been choosing roles that looked safe and respectable, not because they fulfilled me, but because they kept others comfortable. They made my family proud. They reassured partners. They fit neatly into society’s script. Meanwhile, inside, something essential was quietly eroding. That awareness changed everything.
As I reflected, my mind kept returning to an earlier chapter of my life, one where fulfillment had come easily: lifeguarding and teaching kids how to swim. I loved the responsibility, the presence required, and the knowledge that what I was doing mattered in a tangible way. The through-line became impossible to ignore. I’ve always been drawn to protecting, supporting, and guiding others through moments that matter. So I asked myself a different question: if I’m not here to chase hollow versions of success, what am I here to do?
I explored graduate school in psychology. I thought seriously about the therapists who had supported me through my own growth and considered following that path. But the structure, cost, and rigidity didn’t feel realistic in a post-pandemic world already demanding flexibility and adaptability. That’s when coaching entered the picture. With encouragement from my therapist, I began researching training programs, methodologies, and philosophies. The deeper I went, the clearer it became. I enrolled, started training, and felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time: alignment.
The parts of me that had been buried by performance and pressure — empathy, intuition, curiosity, the ability to hold space and ask meaningful questions — finally had room to breathe. What once felt like a series of detours began to make sense. Sales taught me how to listen and communicate with precision. Film taught me how to think clearly under pressure. Lifeguarding taught me calm, presence, and responsibility in critical moments. Coaching wove it all together. It wasn’t just what I wanted to do. It was what I was meant to do.
Today, I work with high-achieving professionals, creatives, and entrepreneurs who find themselves at a crossroads — successful on paper, yet burned out, unsettled, and quietly wondering whether the life they’ve built is sustainable. Many arrive tangled in “shoulds,” unsure whether to stay, leave, or redefine their path entirely. Together, we create a grounded, co-creative space built on honesty and trust. We identify what’s keeping them stuck and redesign how they operate so their life and work can finally align from the inside out.
The truth is, the answers they’re looking for are already within them. My role is to help bring clarity to what they already know and courage to act on it with compassion and steadiness. If you’ve landed here, there’s a good chance you’re not just curious. You’re ready. That quiet pull you feel isn’t random. It’s your own wisdom asking for your attention — and I’d be honored to support you as you explore what comes next.
