Artist, Technology Consultant, Wellness Advocate

The Basics

  • Enneagram

    As a Type 2, I am empathetic and hospitable. I value relationships and connecting with others.

  • Myers-Briggs

    As an ENFJ, I am expressive and intuitive. I like to create safety and encourage those around me.

  • Values

    I strive to practice balance, creativity, respect, and self-awareness.

  • Dancer

    I have 18 years of dance experience. It has made me the person I am today.

  • Technology Consultant

    I am a technology consultant at Ernst & Young LLP. I focus on smart grid technology.

  • Yoga Teacher

    I earned my RYT-200 in 2020, and have taught for universities, companies, and individuals.

My Story

My feet are ugly. They’re bruised, permanently scarred, and bent. My toes constantly crack as I wiggle them to shake out the stiffness. They’ve seen more blisters than I can count. The funny thing is - I love my ugly feet. You see, before they were properly sitting in a nice pair of heels, my feet were dancing on marley floors and stages. I earned these feet.

From as early as I can remember, I was always moved by music. Whether I was putting on performances in the kitchen for my family or directing at-home musicals with my cousins, I loved to create and perform. I can still hear the giggles bouncing from my chubby cheeks as I sang songs from Disney movies with a feather boa flouncing around my neck. It was this craving to express myself that led me to my first ballet class at the age of 5, and began my lifelong connection to movement.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but dance would become my everything- my home, my motivation, and my identity.

By age 16, the words “I can’t, I have dance” became a reflex. Class, rehearsal, performance was my holy trinity. The wooden walls of the studio, swollen with the humidity of our sweaty bodies, held our vulnerability. By the end of a long night of rehearsal, I would be completely drained - my feet scuffed with black marks, my muscles sore, and my mind tired…and yet I was energized. I lived on a deep sense of fulfillment that came from the physical exhaustion of creating something meaningful. To keep up with this pace, I quickly learned what my body needed to get through those long hours, and how to balance the intense schedule with my academic performance in high school.

I sandwiched tutoring sessions in between rehearsals, wrote papers in the hotel rooms of New York City, and finished homework on backstage floors. 

I learned that if I failed to take care of my body, I prohibited myself from doing what I loved to my fullest capacity.

Dancing required a high attunement to my body, and if neglected, suffered serious consequences- and that was easy to see when standing in front of floor to ceiling mirrors.

It felt like dance was my entire identity, and when I chose to pursue a degree in business in college, it deeply challenged this belief. Performing and regularly stretching became more difficult as I was running from ballet rehearsals to finance lectures.

I often felt like I did not belong; not worthy enough or smart enough to be in my classes simply because of “who I was” as an artist. I felt like an imposter as I sat in classrooms sweating the thought of being cold-called and spent countless hours studying just to keep up with the others. It jeopardized my confidence. I couldn’t relate to what I thought the right business student looked like and could not fathom how I would ever fit in. My sense of self was broken as I imagined how different I must’ve been from my peers and deeply missed the pride and artistic fulfillment I gained from consistent dance training and performing.

It wasn’t until I took an Introduction to Information Systems course that I found my place at school. The first lesson, Business Process Modeling, was all about how one activity flows into the next in a business process. While I drew out these flows, I realized I had done this before -  this was choreography. I was visually mapping out stakeholders and their activities in different formations to deliver a clear message and end goal to a consumer (the audience). This was the first time I saw how dance and business-related lessons were not entirely different, but rather overlapped. With this newfound excitement, my professional path forged quickly. I applied for a Women in Technology conference with a “Big 4” Accounting firm, and to my surprise I was accepted. I even received the opportunity to interview for an internship.

I remember asking a mentor of mine, “Professor, how do I show the interviewer I have diverse interests and know how to take care of myself without sounding like a hippy yogi?” (even though I was a certified yoga teacher by this time). I feared the thought of being identified as something I didn’t think would “fit the consultant role,” when in reality I was a lot more powerful because I was both.

On the day of the remote interview, I had the two most important tools with me: my laptop and my yoga mat. 


I rotated between interviewing and meditating, and this combination set me up for success: the interview turned into an internship, which turned into a full time offer as a technology consultant after college.

The start of my post-grad life in consulting quickly turned into late nights at my desk, full weeks of travel, and frequent take-out meals. I was frozen between wanting to be a great performer at my job and sacrificing the values around my health. Aside from my back aching as I stood up from my desk chair and my posture declining, missing meals just left me anxious and weak. Much like in college, I again felt I had to choose to fully commit to what I thought was the “right consultant” or nothing at all. But this time was different; this transition really marked the beginning of the rest of my adult life. 

I was not myself and I knew I could not last operating in a body that didn’t feel like mine. 

I wanted to continue growing at my job, and frankly I didn’t have time to be dancing and making perfectly nutritious meals every single night. I realized if I wanted to keep going, I would have to find a balance between working hard and taking care of myself, realistically. I couldn’t only be a physically attuned dancer, or a great employee, I had to be both in some form. But when the choice seems like all or nothing, what actually influences the compromised action?

For me, it’s been identifying my highest priority core values which allows me to understand what it truly is that I need to feel sustained when I’m not capable of committing to it 100%. I’ve learned that realistic self- care is not about all or nothing choices; it’s about integrating wellness into your life. It’s about learning what actually fulfills you, and letting that be your guide, even in what seem like completely opposing areas of your life. For me, dance wasn’t just about the movement, or the discipline, or the community- it was about the intimate relationship with my body. Now that shows up in smaller ways like taking a deep breath before a challenging presentation or stretching as I wait for my flight to a client site. Self-preservation is a delicate balance, but deeply rewarding.

You don’t need to choose between showing up perfectly strong or being at a deficit.

I’ve never actually had to be one or the other. I’ve always had all the parts I needed right inside of me- whether that was studying backstage in high school, taking an interview from a yoga mat, or adapting my lifestyle as a consultant to prioritize what really matters to me. I have a variety of needs: expression, community, creativity, and many more! Understanding how to balance them all is the true key to a close relationship with my sense of wellbeing.

I am not only a dancer any more than I am only a technology consultant. Taking care of myself is what now guides my success in the corporate world, and the marriage of the two is powerful. I know that in order for me to function at my best, I need to create a healthy home for me to live in, and for me, this begins with a level of self-preservation that still conveys that my body is my instrument. 

When I feel good, I’m better at my job. It’s that simple.

I’m more confident talking to clients, engaged and proactive about completing tasks, and am a dependable team member. Prioritizing self-care has not compromised the time I have to put toward my work, but rather increased my energy and made my performance even greater. 


True wellbeing comes from the integration of small actions that make you feel your best, without stealing time or effort away from what you need to achieve in the meantime. The practice of nurturing yourself looks different for every routine, every profession, and every person. That’s the beauty of it; only you can decide what works best for you, and it starts with the simple act of listening.

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