It’s time for me to start telling my story.

 It’s time for me to start telling my story.

For a long time, I stayed quiet outside of a very small circle of close friends. I shared only enough to stay connected, but not enough to be fully seen. That wasn’t avoidance—it was protection. After my accident, my nervous system and my energy field simply could not take in more input from the outside world. As an empath, I had to retreat in order to survive and heal.

But as my strength slowly returns, I feel that silence shifting.

I was in a tragic accident on Ortega Highway that changed the entire course of my life. In an instant, everything I knew about my body, my independence, and my future was disrupted. Since then, I’ve been forced into a long and ongoing process of rebuilding—not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

And I’m still in it.

Even the simplest things that most people take for granted have become daily challenges. Basic mobility. Using the restroom safely and in time. Navigating transfers between chairs. Maintaining dignity through tasks that used to be effortless. There are moments where frustration and anger arise, and I don’t deny that anymore. I’ve had to face the emotional reality of what was taken from me and what I am still living through.

To support myself through this, I’ve been actively using the healing tools and practices I was already studying before my accident, but now in a much more essential and embodied way.

I use Ho’oponopono, the Hawaiian practice of forgiveness and reconciliation, not to excuse what happened, but to release what I carry inside of it. It helps me soften the resentment that can arise when I reflect on the impact this accident has had on my life.

I also use Emotional Freedom Technique (tapping) when my nervous system becomes overwhelmed or when my mind begins to spiral in pain or frustration. It gives me immediate grounding and relief when I’m not able to access meditation right away.

When I can, I return to breathwork and meditation—slowly rebuilding my capacity to be present, to regulate, and to begin shaping a different internal reality than the one I was forced into.

Sound has also become one of my most important forms of regulation and release.

I use my spirit drum to help move through body pain and emotional intensity. The rhythm gives my pain somewhere to go—it becomes something I can express outwardly rather than hold inside. It creates a sense of release when words and stillness are not enough.

I also work with Tibetan singing bowls, allowing their resonance to support my nervous system, bringing moments of coherence, calm, and energetic realignment when everything feels overwhelmed or fragmented.

This hasn’t been a smooth spiritual journey. It’s been interrupted, raw, and survival-based for a long time. But even in that, something inside me has kept asking deeper questions:

Why did this happen?
Why am I still here?
And what is this experience meant to become?

For a long time, I thought my deepest healing journey had already happened after my stroke. I believed I had already reached the edge of my transformation. But life had another initiation waiting for me—one I did not choose, and one I am still learning how to move through.

Now I understand that I’m being asked to gather everything I’ve learned—every modality, every tool, every layer of healing—and bring it into one lived expression.

Not just as a practitioner.
Not just as a survivor.
But as my own testimony.

Even though I don’t naturally live a highly social life, and I’ve never been someone with a large circle of connections, I know there are people like me out there. People who are quietly struggling. People who are trying to find meaning in the aftermath of something life-altering. People who don’t necessarily need noise or crowds—but need truth, tools, and a way forward.

This is why I’m starting to speak.

Not because everything is resolved.
But because I’m still here.
And because this story is still unfolding.

And maybe, in sharing it, it can help someone else find their way through theirs too.

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