I came to the U.S. from El Salvador at 16. I didn’t speak the language. I didn’t know my parents (that’s part of the long story). And I had to fight not to be held back in school, while watching Sesame Street to learn English. Two years later, I graduated and enrolled in a four-year university, still translating everything in my head and trying to make sense of a system that was never built for me.

I came out at 26. It turned my world upside down. I became an estranged daughter (another part of the long story), built a beautiful marriage, lost and gained people along the way, and slowly became the sparkly unicorn version of myself that I love so much.

Like so many cycle breakers and adult children of immigrants, I carried a lot early on. There wasn’t a roadmap. But I had this deep feeling, I didn’t come this far to only come this far, or to keep shrinking myself to make others comfortable. At first, that meant grinding and pushing through. Later, it meant healing. And now? It means holding the door open for others while basking in my joy and discovering who I am when I’m not working.

I know now that my journey toward becoming a therapist started with my own survival, as I looked for answers to the questions my family couldn’t give me. But over time, I put the puzzle together and I realized I didn’t want to just survive. The more I understood where I came from, how it shaped me, and how to choose something new, I stopped abandoning myself, moving without guilt (but guided by love) and I stopped worrying about making others uncomfortable.

That same intention is at the core of my work today. Whether in therapy, teaching, or podcasting, I help people explore the roots of their stories so they can grow with more freedom, clarity, and connection.

• You don’t have to earn rest by burning out first.

• Guilt isn’t proof of love. Giving and receiving love freely is the gift.

• Self-awareness is one of the most powerful tools we have. When we know better, we do better.

• Healing isn’t a milestone or a destination. It’s a layered, lifelong reclamation.

• Our work has ripples forward and back. Our inner niñxs still lead the way, and if we don’t listen, they will absolutely throw a tantrum.

• You’re allowed to want more, even if you’re grateful for what you have.

• Some things really can be healed with a nap, a playlist, and a pep talk from your favorite tía.

Motherhood isn’t my path, but nurturing, mentoring, and showing up as a bonus adult absolutely is. Whether it’s with my friends, my mentees, or my clients, being a tía (the older, slightly wiser señora) just fits.

It’s not about having all the answers. It’s about being the one who listens, who reflects back your strength, and reminds you that you’re not alone. That’s the energy I bring to everything I do.

Music. Dancing. Travel. Dogs. Plants. Design, Photography, and all the pretty things.

Being a wife, friend, and tía.
That’s my joy list.

Also: cafecito, fresh air, and some Bad Bunny on full blast.