About Me

I didn’t find this work through a straight path; I found it through injury.

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In my senior year of high school, I suffered a full avulsion of my right hamstring—completely torn off the bone and surgically reattached. It happened just as I was beginning to build real momentum in my movement practice and identity as an athlete. I had recently been offered a Division I cheerleading scholarship, and for the first time, it felt like I was stepping into something I could genuinely excel at.

And then, life in its spectacularly enigmatic way, moved things to a grinding halt.​

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Not long after surgery, my family lost health insurance. Which for me, meant no more physical therapy. I was left trying to navigate recovery on my own—and eventually, I partially re-injured the same hamstring. Pain, scar tissue, and limitation became part of daily life. The turning point came from something small. A parent of someone I used to cheer with overheard me talking about my leg and gifted me a session with a practitioner of Rolfing/SI. I had never even had bodywork before.
 

That session changed everything.
 

My practitioner was intense, quiet, and worked in a way that was, at times, deeply uncomfortable—but undeniably effective. I kept going back. Over the next few years, that work didn’t just help my body—it gave me a completely new way of understanding it. It sparked a level of curiosity that felt important, like it was saying "Hey - you're going to want to pay attention to this." From Brian, and my own healing journey, I began to learn about how the body adapts, how it holds onto experience, and how it can change.​

 

A Body Shaped by Movement

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Before and throughout all of this, movement has always been a constant. I grew up skateboarding, then found martial arts tricking as a teenager—a practice that’s highly one-sided, explosive, and demanding. You spin one way. You load one leg. You build patterns over years that are incredibly specific.

 

For me, that meant my right side became a foundation—stable, strong, reliable—while my left adapted around it. Later, when I got into endurance running, those patterns became impossible to ignore. The imbalances, the compensations, the strain—they all surfaced in a new way.

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Despite my initial frustration, and absolutely seeing all these new pain and structural patterns as a problem, it ultimately redirected to my center. I was reminded me how the body organizes itself over time. How it builds strategies. How it compensates intelligently—and how those same strategies can eventually become limiting. This lived experience is something I carry into every session.

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At some point, something simple but profound became clear: The body isn’t just structural—it’s expressive. Every emotion carries a posture. Every pattern of movement reflects something deeper. Even if we’re not paying attention, the body is always communicating. 

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That doesn’t have to be abstract or philosophical. It’s something you can feel, observe, and work with directly.​ What this work offers is a way to bring awareness to that—to notice what your body is doing, why it might be doing it, and how it can change. Because the body isn’t fixed, it’s adaptive. It’s responsive. It’s fluid. And when something no longer serves you, it’s capable of letting go of it—structurally, neurologically, and even emotionally.

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This work gave me something I didn’t expect at the time: The belief that my body could support me again. And because of that, the belief that I could keep going. That’s something I don’t take lightly.

Because I know how much can change when someone reconnects with that sense of possibility—and how far that can carry them into the rest of their life.

 

My Approach & Philosophy

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My work is grounded, direct, and rooted in how the body actually functions.

At the same time, it recognizes that the body isn’t just mechanical—it’s adaptive, responsive, and shaped by experience.

 

That means we can work with structure, movement, and performance without losing sight of the nervous system, awareness, and the individual in front of me.

I aim to create an environment that feels both supportive and focused. You don’t need prior experience with bodywork or movement to benefit from this work—but you do need a willingness to be engaged in the process.

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Because meaningful change doesn’t come from passive treatment alone. It comes from paying attention. From participating. From being willing to explore something different. Whether you’re an athlete looking to improve performance, someone navigating pain, or simply curious about what your body is capable of, the work meets you where you are and builds from there.

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It’s not about chasing perfect. It’s about developing a body that is adaptable, resilient, and capable of supporting the life you want to live.

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