Meet the Heart Behind the Healing

The Wilderness That Became My Ministry

“I no longer see myself as a victim of illness; I became someone capable of healing from within.”

The Early Years: Pain That Followed a Family Legacy

At just fourteen years old, I received a diagnosis that would shape the course of my life: critical endometriosis. It wasn’t entirely shocking—my mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and aunts had all walked this path before me. From that moment, my life became a cycle of pain, surgeries, and unanswered questions.

By my teens, I was already undergoing regular laparoscopic surgeries just to manage the fast-growing condition. Doctors offered little guidance. Every visit felt like a loop I could not escape: new prescriptions, more surgeries, more questions, but almost no answers.

By the age of 24, I had endured over 20 laparoscopic surgeries, 7 emergency operations for ruptured ovarian cysts, and 2 C-sections. One surgery nearly cost me my life. I bled internally for seven days, dismissed by my doctor as “normal,” even implied it was all in my head. But I knew something was wrong. It wasn’t until a nurse friend insisted on urgent tests that the truth came to light: I was bleeding internally and needed immediate surgery.

A Moment of Terror

During that operation, I experienced something terrifying. I woke up on the operating table—mid-procedure. Pain unlike anything I had ever known seared through me. I screamed:
“Help me! Help me!” before blacking out again.

When I finally awoke in my hospital room, I learned I had lost over two units of blood and required a transfusion. That moment left me shaken, questioning not just the care I had been receiving but the fragility of life itself.

The Sacrifice

At 26, I faced a devastating decision: a partial hysterectomy. The dream of a large family I had cherished since childhood vanished in an instant. As a mother of two, I made the sacrifice to survive—for them, and for myself—but the emotional toll was as heavy as the physical one.

Spiraling Health

The years that followed brought new diagnoses:

• Celiac disease

• Type 2 diabetes

• Hypothyroidism

• Rare conditions like SMA syndrome and pectus excavatum

By 36, I had seen over 20 specialists, yet my health continued to spiral. That same year, an ER doctor finally identified SMA syndrome and pectus excavatum—conditions requiring immediate attention. I underwent SMA surgery, a small bowel resection, hoping it would finally stabilize my body.

Life Takes Another Turn

Weeks into recovery, on a bright, seemingly ordinary day, I went for a walk in a local park with my partner. Halfway through, he noticed something was wrong—my speech slurred, my steps faltered. I tried to sit, but everything went black.

I later learned I had suffered a massive stroke and developed retrograde amnesia, erasing much of my memory. At the time, it was misdiagnosed as heat exhaustion, and I was sent home, unaware of the severity of what had happened.

Behind the Masks: Survival Mode

For most of my life, I lived in survival mode. I wore the mask of “the strong one,” the dependable one, the high-achiever who held everything together—even when I was falling apart inside. I poured myself into everyone else because deep down, I didn’t believe I was worthy of being poured into. Somewhere along the way, I learned that love had to be earned, worth had to be proven, and rest was a reward, not a right.

Years of unspoken trauma, self-abandonment, and emotional suppression began to show up in my body. Chronic illness didn’t arrive overnight—it built itself in layers, just like the life I was living. Eventually, the breakdown came. I had a stroke. My memory fractured. I forgot entire years of my life. I woke up in a body that felt foreign and a world that no longer made sense. The people I loved looked familiar, but I couldn’t feel the memories that bound us.

The world kept spinning, but I was frozen. And for the first time in my life, I couldn’t push through it. I couldn’t perform. I couldn’t outrun the silence. I had no choice but to stop.

Taking Back Control

Two and a half years of ongoing health battles, misdiagnoses, and uncertainty later, I realized: I could no longer surrender my body entirely to the medical system. I had endured too much—trauma, surgeries, lost dreams. I had to take control.

I immersed myself in learning how to truly care for my body—through spirituality, nutrition, holistic healing, and a deep commitment to understanding what I truly needed.

“This journey has been the hardest battle of my life—but also the most empowering.”
I no longer saw myself as a victim. I became someone capable of healing from within.

From Survivor to Guide

Today, I continue to walk this path with strength, clarity, and purpose. But my story does not end with me. Through Primal Roots Integrative Wellness, I now guide others to reclaim their health, find balance, and step into their own power. I help people navigate the complexities of their bodies, overcome trauma, and embrace wellness in a way that feels authentic and sustainable.

Primal Roots Integrative Wellness was born from this wilderness—not as a business, but as a ministry. A sacred space for those ready to return—to God, to truth, to their body, to the person they were created to be before the world told them otherwise.

Here, we don’t fix what’s broken—because you are not broken. We explore the internal belief systems that keep you bound. We hold space for the nervous system and the soul. We nourish the body with compassion, not control. And we walk every step together—anchored in faith, wrapped in grace, and led by the Spirit.

Reclaiming Power

My story is one of survival—but more than that, it is about reclaiming agency over my body, my health, and my life. And my hope is that, by sharing it, others will feel inspired to take the first step on their own journey toward holistic wellness.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
— Psalm 34:18