Growing up, my mother was a massage therapist. I watched people leave her office lighter than when they walked in — more relaxed, less burdened, genuinely happier. As a kid I didn't think I'd follow her path. But looking back, it makes complete sense.

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She built something real — a practice rooted in community, in relationships, in helping people find relief from pain and stress. I wanted that too.

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In college I fell in love with the human body — how it moves, how it adapts, how it heals. I started in Biology, shifted toward kinesiology, and realized I didn't just want to study the body. I wanted to work with it, hands-on, in a way that actually made a difference in people's lives. Massage therapy became the place where all of that came together.

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There's a concept in Japanese culture called Ikigai — most closely translated as "purpose." It describes the intersection of what you love, what you're good at, what the world needs, and what sustains you. When you find it, the work never feels like work. Massage therapy, bodywork, and serving this community are my Ikigai. I found it, and I don't take that lightly.