Ask my closest friends and family to describe me and I will bet the words “driven”, “motivated”, and “determined” will be mixed in a sea of “compassionate”, “empathetic”, and “mother-hen”.

It would make sense, then, to tell you I was a very successful academic: I  graduated top of my class not just in high school but also with my bachelors in biology and TWO master of science degrees.

It might also make sense that during each of my life stages, I was the “go-to” friend for advice as I had an uncanny ability to get to the root of any emotion or crisis my friends and family sent my way. Often described by strangers as “an old soul”, it wasn’t long into my adulthood that I noticed my presence alone brought comfort to many.

As long as I can remember, I’ve had this inner knowing that there was a greater purpose for my life, that I was destined to lead this world into a huge change. I did not know how or when but I knew I would feel it once I got there. 

So, I began tackling accomplishment after accomplishment, actively searching for “the answer”. Each goal I set with the intention, “This is it!”, only to find emptiness and lack of fulfillment following my successes. After multiple college degrees, I thought I finally had the answer: becoming a Physician Assistant was 100% the right career move for me. I was bright and I was nurturing, a combination, in which I witnessed during my father’s long illness, was rare in medicine, a combination that I thought could spark change in the medical community. 

This was it! The answer I was looking for. The B.I.G. thing I was destined to fulfill!

Fast forward two grueling years later. After the most intense academic, emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil I had ever endured, I entered the work force, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to change the world one patient at a time.

That high soon faded. 

Shortly after beginning in a primary care setting, I became drained. The expectations of my patients versus the expectations of the administration were not on the same playing field. A patient would come in for dizziness but what they really wanted to discuss was the torture their boss was putting them through. A young woman came in for stomach pain but what she needed was an empathetic ear as she disclosed her rape that she had only discussed with her husband. A middle aged man came in for treatment of his diabetes and various addictions but what he was truly seeking was healing from his deeply rooted inner child wounds: he wanted to be held.

I often joked with my colleagues that I must have a tattoo on my forehead that read, “Please tell me everything”, because more often than not, the patients I saw shared things with me they have never shared with a single soul, not even their primary care provider.

It is obvious that these individuals needed extensive time and love but my administration, following the games of the insurance companies, believed their visit should only take 15 minutes. 

I was not one to sacrifice quality over quantity, so I sacrificed my own quality of life so my patients could keep theirs. I skipped lunches to return patient calls. I woke up before daylight to get a jump start on my notes. I worked while I was on vacation so I could spend more time with my patients upon my return.

Enter in my intuition. 

Numerous practice rounds with my classmates and actors during exam time did not prepare me for how active my intuition would be when in a room with a real live patient. This served me well as far as confidence in ordering labs and tests and making diagnoses. I “followed my gut” which, in the years I spent in medicine, WAS NEVER INCORRECT. However, there were moments during my practice where I found myself in a tug of war between my intuition and what were “ethical” expectations of a medical provider.

I remember quite vividly, one day I had a sick call on my schedule for ear pain. The patient was on my supervising physician’s panel but his schedule was booked. Discussion of ear pain led to her desire of finally quitting smoking which led to the real reason why she had made an appointment, “my mother died and I can’t live without her.”  Right on cue,  I felt her mother’s presence enter into my awareness and she whispered in my ear the messages she so deeply had been trying to communicate with her daughter, without any luck, until an intuitive came her way. The intuitive in this case was disguised as a Physician Assistant. Me. 

I tried. I really did try not to share those messages. My job as a medical professional wouldn’t allow for it. What would my colleagues say if this patient told them what I shared? What would the administration do? How credible can a medical professional be if she says she can talk to dead people?!

I became too exhausted. I didn’t have any energy to take care of myself. I was planning a wedding and could not imagine raising a family while maintaining this job. I decided to look into speciality medicine.

I landed a gig within the same company in the Sleep Center. No call. Minimal diagnoses to choose from. And a raise. This sounds nice.

As far as I was concerned, it was the best job medicine could offer. The visits were quick and the diagnoses accurate. My day was fairly predictable and my patients were mostly compliant. I thought I landed my forever home in medicine. How great is this?!

Come fall, the gifts I had long attempted to suppress returned stronger than ever. I began seeing in colors I couldn’t describe, tasting music, and feeling fully into other people. It was pure bliss and I wanted more. I read through numerous books, yearning to learn what I was experiencing and wanting so desperately to keep these feelings alive.  I began exploring these gifts through various mentors and shortly thereafter, experienced the power of energy work, and became attuned as a Reiki practitioner. 

Through shifts in my own consciousness, I cured my own food allergies, simply by ceasing to hold grudges and learning to forgive myself. I realized the morning after I consumed my first pizza slice in almost a decade without getting sick, that continuing to hold grudges for years a time had physically manifested as food allergies so that I could not participate in social gatherings as everyone else. My mindset dictated my outer world. 

I was stunned by this realization.

Was it too crazy to believe that ALL dis-ease was caused my an inner imbalance of mindset? That permanent healing can only take place if the emotional root is uncovered and untangled? Did I take out hundreds of thousands of student loans to learn about all the intricacies of the human body and the chemicals that we produce to fix it to come to this conclusion?

At work, I became drained again. I no longer believed in what I was doing. Don’t get me wrong, Western Medicine certainly has its place in emergencies, in treatment of terminal illnesses, etc. But goddamn it, it really was just a bandaid to more deeply seeded issues in our conscious thinking.

Although I did not do it as often as I did in primary care, I started to hate writing prescriptions. I could now see that a patient’s inability to stay awake during the day was not their Narcolepsy or Idiopathic Hypersomnia, but because they themselves were fighting their own intuitions. They just didn’t know it. And in my position, I couldn’t share this information with them. And it killed me. I was thwarting their healing as I wore the badge of “Healer”. I could now see how the medications that kept them awake were chemical bandaids to an overarching problem that would never be uncovered in Western Medicine. 

I spent my days bitting my tongue. Fighting an inner battle between what I knew to be true versus what was expected of me. 

Add to the fact I was still channeling my patients dead relatives and I found myself in a position I knew I could not keep up with for much longer. 

It became resoundingly clear that the amount of healing I could provide in the world of traditional medicine had a limit, I could only do as much as my profession dictated. If I was able to speak freely and apply my intuition as it screamed out at me, so many more individuals would not be finding themselves at the doctor’s office looking for a prescription. 

Meanwhile, away from the office and in my Reiki studio,  I watched over and over again the same healing phenomenon I experienced, surged through my clients. Migraines resolved and emotional breakthroughs took place. I witnessed rapid transformations and felt astounding glee as my clients smiled ear to ear with joy.

While Western Medicine may not have been all that I cracked it up to be, I was right in that I was destined to be a healer. THIS was it. THIS was my big thing. I could feel it in my bones. My heart sang with each session. Goosebumps with each intuitive motion. 

With the support of my husband, my visionary mentor and business coach, and all of my friends and family who knew me best, I officially left Western Medicine on June 28, 2019 and put all of my focus on my soul aligned business as an Intuitive Coach and Healer. I continue to witness and receive the most miraculous changes through the healing I can now provide others as well as myself, and this gives me great fulfillment.

I feel as though I am finally on the right track. I wake up every morning, eager to work, ready to be of service, and passionate about my day. 

I have fallen right into my life’s purpose: to serve as an example, to show the world that suffering is not necessary and that awakening to our true selves is more than possible, it is our divine right. 

I plan on maintaining my licensure as a Physician Assistant, bridging the  energetic gap between traditional medicine and the metaphysical. 

The future holds within it a space for healing, a space in which medicine takes on all forms and with which everyone has access, the space in which the vehicle for peace can be born.

And I am so blessed to be part of the ride.