Breakthrough Story 💥 · New Earth Community

Breakthrough Story 💥

Ummm, idk how I’m going to shorten this because, phew, each section was like 5 paragraphs before this 🤣🙈

Before — The Sensitive Seer:

I came into this world sensitive AF — to light, energy, emotions, everything. My mom said I’d just stop breathing out of nowhere, break out in seizures + my body would turn purple. Doctors called it Paroxysmal Torticollis of Infancy — I was experiencing migraines, and my tiny body didn’t know how to handle the pain. I call it surviving in a world that always felt too loud for me. I could read people before they spoke. Feel their emotions before they displayed them. But instead of being seen as intuitive, I was labeled with anger issues, dramatic, depressed, too emotional, too much.

Even with all of that, I’ve always loved people. I’ve always had this huge heart that just wants to understand others — what shaped them, what they’ve been through, why they are the way they are. People have always fascinated me. I’ve always wanted to help, to heal, to be the one that could make others feel seen.

When my parents divorced, it crushed me. My sense of safety disappeared overnight. I attended three different schools growing up — every time I started to get close to people, I had to leave. I never really felt rooted anywhere. I just wanted to belong, to be understood, to be loved for who I actually was. But I didn’t feel safe being me. So I learned how to perform — the cool girl, the funny one, the one who pretended she didn’t feel everything so damn deeply. By high school, I was searching for worth in all the wrong places — alcohol + drugs, boys, and chaos that made the emptiness a little quieter.

Crisis — The Spiral:

At first, I thought my partying was just a phase — something I’d grow out of once life “got serious.” But in the Midwest, drinking is the culture. It’s how people connect, how weekends start, how pain gets swallowed. I didn’t realize yet that what felt normal was actually my slow unraveling.

When I got my DUI in 2014, I was 20 years old and numb. Part of my sentencing was to spend 27 hours in jail — cold floor, bright lights, no sense of time. I was so scared straight and numb that I didn’t cry for a solid 6 months after. I shut every feeling off inside of me. I told myself it wasn’t that deep, that everyone makes mistakes… but deep down I knew. Something inside me had gone silent. I eventually went back to drinking, pretending I had it handled. There were nights I’d lie awake wishing I just wouldn’t wake up. Not because I wanted to die, but because I didn’t know how to live inside the weight of my own mind. I was tired of fighting myself. Numbness felt safer than feeling everything.

Corporate jobs continued to follow — shiny titles, fake smiles, burnout disguised as ambition. I was trying to find purpose through performance, climbing ladders that led nowhere. On paper + to the public, I looked like I was getting it together. But inside? I was exhausted. I was lost. I was the “happy, successful” girl who cried in the shower before work and convinced herself this was adulthood. I was chasing external validation because I didn’t yet know how to love myself without it.

Chase — Searching for Love & Meaning:

This was the era I kept calling “growth,” but really, I was just trying to outrun the ache.

I got engaged to the man I thought I was supposed to build a life with. We had a house, three dogs, loved each other’s families + friends. But underneath it all, I knew — he wasn’t my person. I felt trapped in a life that looked stable but suffocated my soul.

When we called off the wedding (only three weeks before it was taking place) it wrecked me. Even though I knew it was the right thing, the guilt was crushing. Any sense of stability I had was ripped out from underneath me, I was scared shitless. There was unfaithfulness on both ends — his first, then mine — and it left me spiraling in shame. The guy I cheated with cracked something open in me; it was messy, magnetic, karmic — my first spiritual awakening in disguise. But he was married, and no matter how deep it felt, it wasn’t meant to become anything real.

The years that followed were dark. My drinking got worse. I lost myself in the chaos and unfortunately didn’t care. I became selfish. I was trying to fill an emotional void with temporary highs — men, alcohol, distractions, anything to avoid feeling the grief. I looked fine from the outside, but inside, I was quietly breaking — begging the Universe to show me there was more to life than this cycle of pain.

Conflict — The Dark Night:

Then came the collapse.

The world shut down, and so did I. COVID hit and I went down every rabbit hole imaginable, digging through documentaries about corruption, food, politics, control. The world felt fake, and I felt furious! I couldn’t understand how everyone else seemed so okay living in the illusion. It was like my eyes had opened, but my heart couldn’t handle what it saw.

And as I started waking up, I started losing people.

Friends stopped calling. Family didn’t understand me. People thought I’d lost my mind — and maybe I did for a bit. But looking back, I think I was just finally seeing the truth, and not everyone’s meant to walk that path with you. The more I questioned the world, the more the world around me crumbled. My circle got smaller. My loneliness got louder. And that ache of isolation became the mirror I couldn’t avoid.

My drinking turned even more reckless — blackout nights & blurry memories. I remember waking up after my last night ever drinking, flashbacks of a man I didn’t know — his smile haunting me as I told him to get off of me. I felt so sick — spiritually, emotionally, mentally, physically. I called into work and lied saying I had COVID, but really, I was drowning in shame and disgust. I cried until I fell back asleep, and that’s when it happened — the vision. A spirit guide appeared, showing me two paths: the version of me that kept drinking… and the version that finally chose to become her best self.

I woke up different. Hungover, trembling, but clear AF. I looked in the mirror and shouted, “what the fuck am I doing with my life?” That was my breaking point — and the beginning of my becoming.

Breakthrough — The Phoenix Rises:

When I chose sobriety, I didn’t know who I was without the chaos. But slowly, I started remembering. I moved to Florida one month later via a promotion with the Law Firm I worked for— no exact plan, just a major pull of I have to do this. It felt like life finally had air in it again. I woke up to sunlight instead of shame. My body was healing. My mind was quiet for the first time in years. I started spending hours alone, sitting in silence, dancing around my apartment with Yogi, feeling music again. I microdosed psilocybin chocolates on Saturdays, opened my journal, and met my soul in those pages.

I fell in love with solitude. I learned what peace actually felt like. And that peace started rewiring me. I realized I didn’t need external noise to feel alive — I was the source. My health became sacred. My intuition got louder. I wrote the first outlines of my business plans — my “healing oasis retreat center” for lost souls and recovering addicts.

Throughout my whole life, I had been unconsciously living in my masculine energy — constantly in control mode, chasing validation, striving to prove my worth. I worked in male-dominated industries, mistaking my walls for strength and my over-giving for love. I didn’t even know we carried both masculine and feminine energies within us — I just thought this was life, that this was who I was.

But Florida softened me. The silence, the space, the solitude cracked me open. As I continued diving deep — researching, reflecting, releasing — I experienced what I now know was a kundalini awakening. My feminine began to rise. I started to understand that I am the radiant love I’d been searching for outside of me all along. I came home to myself. I began to truly love ALL of myself.

And when I came home to myself, I also found my fire. The dragon within me woke up — the part of me that no longer tolerated bullshit or disrespect or silence in the face of it. I stopped letting people walk all over me. I stopped shrinking to keep the peace. I started speaking my truth — not from rage, but from rooted self-respect and passion.

As my light grew, my tolerance for inauthenticity vanished. I started seeing cracks in the corporate world I was still part of. The greed, the gossip, the corruption — it felt wrong in every cell of my being. So I wrote a four-page letter to HR exposing the leadership’s toxicity, walked out the door, and never looked back. I wasn’t scared anymore. I was free.

After — The Sober Alchemist:

Back in Nebraska, I thought working at a gym would be my next chapter — finally something “healthy.” But burnout hit fast, and I realized health wasn’t just about food or fitness. It was about energy. Boundaries. Breath. I was watching people push their bodies while ignoring their hearts, and something in me knew: this isn’t it.

That’s when I found meditation and breathwork. And for the first time, I didn’t just understand healing — I experienced it. It was the same energy I’d tapped into alone in Florida — the same stillness, the same remembering. I dove all in. Studying. Practicing. Crying. Expanding. Breath by breath, I built the foundation for what would become Soulful Shifts — the space where I will guide others to transform pain into power and to come home to themselves the way I did.

Along the way, I had an epiphany: addiction isn’t the problem — it’s the symptom.

It’s not about the alcohol, the drugs, the food, or the habits. It’s about what we’re running from. Addiction is the body’s way of saying, “I can’t hold this anymore.” It’s the escape from the emotions we never learned how to feel, the truths we were too scared to face. And once I saw that — I couldn’t unsee it. That realization became my purpose. To help people get to the root. To alchemize their pain into power. To show them that what they’re running from is exactly where their freedom lives.

Today, sobriety isn’t just not drinking — it’s a lifestyle, an energy, a devotion to clarity.

I am no longer running from my past; I’m using it as medicine.

This is what I was born to do.

I am The Sober Alchemist.

🤟🏽

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