Welcome Home

Medicine Woman | Trauma-Informed Spiritual Guide | Modern-Day Mystic

Hi, I’m Lauren.

I walk with people through the real, messy, sacred work of healing, because I’ve been there.

And I came back with this truth:

You are not broken.

And your pain is not the end of your story.

Before I was a guide and a space-holder, I wore a uniform. I served in the military. I worked as a police officer. I have worn many other hats.

I was trained to stay steady under pressure. To lead. To respond in crisis.

But the truth is, I was falling apart on the inside. I lived with Complex PTSD.

I carried invisible wounds no one talked about, not in my line of work. And for a long time, I tried to just keep going, to stay strong, stay silent, and stay in control.

Until one day, I couldn’t anymore.

There was a moment I’ll never forget: sitting in a closet with my service pistol in my mouth, believing I had no way out.

That was supposed to be the end. But it wasn’t. Because something in me, something deep, said not yet.

That moment became the beginning, a voice I will never forget.

I was introduced to sacred plant medicine; Ayahuasca, Hapé, Kambo, and it cracked me wide open. It didn’t erase the pain, but it helped me face it. It showed me what I was holding, what I buried, and what I still had the power to heal.

And for the first time, I came home to myself.

Now, I use everything I’ve lived through to walk alongside others on their own journey.

I hold safe, grounded, non-judgmental space for people from all walks of life, all backgrounds, and all beliefs. Because healing isn’t just for the spiritual. The “woo.” The perfect. It’s for anyone who’s tired of carrying it all alone.

I work with people navigating:

• trauma

• burnout

• loss

• identity shifts

• spiritual awakenings

• or just that quiet knowing that something needs to change.

We move at the pace of your nervous system.

We listen to your body. We follow your truth, not anyone else’s map.

I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to remind you of what’s already inside you.

You don’t need to be “spiritual” to work with me. You just need to be done pretending you’re fine.

This work isn’t always easy. But it’s real. And it’s yours. And you don’t have to do it alone.

If you’re still here, reading this, some part of you already knows.

**There’s more for you. There’s a way through. And there’s a life on the other side that feels like yours.**

I’m here when you’re ready.

Greater than the storm, I am the storm

Sometimes, in the middle of chaos, when the storm feels too strong, the air too thick, and everything in you begins to suffocate you; you are meeting one of your greatest teachers. It's not about how you react. It's about how you respond. Not in grand, heroic gestures, but in the smallest inhale, and the tiniest exhale.

We are not meant to be superhuman. We are meant to be real. We are imperfect, emotional, and ever-evolving. It's in the moments that feel like too much is when we discover our deepest well of strength. I've been struggling lately. We all have and will again at some unforeseen juncture.

l've felt alone. Moments in my life, I slow down to look around and notice. Some people who were once near, now orbit from afar. Others I thought would show up have ghosted. And that’s okay. That is life. Every person, every meeting is a teacher, and within those meetings, are lessons. These moments, as heavy as they feel, offer a choice. To feel helpless and hopeless or to meet the moment as a lesson or a deeper remembering.

We are not meant to depend on others for our strength. We are meant to find it. To become it. When we look outward, we may be met with loss, grief, and unmet expectations. But when we look inward:

We find truth. Certainty. And something unshakable. So today, if you're struggling, I see you. I hold space for you. Please remember, “everyone you meet is fighting an invisible battle”. One you may never see or understand. So walk gently. With grace. With compassion. With love. Always. And please, hear me when I say this: I believe in you. You are never alone. Not within your mind. Not within your body. Not within your spirit. Not within your Self. You are held, even when it feels like everything is falling apart.

Grief

Grief is the ache of wanting what once was, while resisting the truth of what now is. It is the soul's protest to change, the heart's refusal to accept that all things must shift, in order to grow.

People come, people go, some far sooner than we could ever imagined. The unimaginable heartbreak.

Grief is the essence left behind. To hold it tightly, to cling to it, to struggle in letting it go, keeps us rooted in that loss we continue to feel. But to release it, to bless it, to let it pass like a tide returning to sea, making space for life to continue.

Not in forgetting, but in honoring the sacred space where love once lived. That love is still there, a love that moved between space and time. It's sometimes the physical loss that hurts most, and not the passing of the soul.

Conversations that never happened, intentions left unmet, an embrace that can never be a hug, and a longing for something that will never return in the way we knew it to be.

Grief is a reminder to cherish each moment, for those moments will one day cease to come. Speak your heart, share those words with the ones you hold close, never fear judgement, and always lead with love.

The worst judgement is the judgement of self, met with the broken heart of regret.

Love, a conscious heart that knows grief, loss and regret. I refuse to meet my time with regret in my heart. Speak bold, love hard, and no regrets.

Emotional Dialects

I think we sometimes miss each other, not because we aren't showing up, not because we don't love each other, or even that we don't care, but because we're wired to feel in different dialects.

Sometimes, emotions get missed not because they aren't there, but because there are so many nuances to the way we feel.

What looks like distance to one person might be deep processing to the other. Never underestimate the depth of someone's well based on the way they carry themselves through the storm.

To truly see the depth of someone is to know the depth of yourself. We are ALL still learning how to do that for ourselves and each other.