There was a time when my life felt like a constant tug-of-war between who I was becoming and who I knew I was called to be. Sharing my story openly isn’t easy, but I believe in being honest—because someone out there might need to know they’re not alone.
In college, I silently battled depression and social anxiety. I was attending school because I felt I had to—not because I wanted to. But somewhere in that struggle, I found my voice and earned my degree, slowly building a sense of purpose.
Money was tight, and eventually, I took a job as a server in an 18+ strip club. The pay was drastically better than my last job, which barely covered my Uber fare. One night, a dance contest changed everything. I stepped onto that stage, won a prize, and something inside me shifted. I found a boldness and a confidence I didn’t know I had. That night marked the beginning of a new identity I thought I needed—one that felt empowered, but often conflicted with my values.
When I lost my car, I turned to OnlyFans. It was financial freedom, sure—but it didn’t sit well with the faith I’d grown up with. Still, I pushed forward, justifying it as “taking back control” while ignoring the quiet guilt creeping in.
From bottle service to dancing in LA clubs, I made more money than I ever had, but the deeper I went, the more I struggled with who I really was. I’d smile online, post like I had it all together, but inside, I was torn. I knew I was influencing people in ways I wasn’t proud of.
One night, a fight in the club woke me up. I looked at myself—not just physically, but spiritually—and asked, “Who am I becoming?” The answer hurt. I was dimming my own light in an environment that never truly valued it.
Acting had always been my dream, and a divine encounter reminded me of that. I started focusing more on auditions and pulled away from the club life. But even with the shift, I kept my OnlyFans account until a breakup forced me to pause and reassess. I shut it down. I turned back to God. And for the first time in a long time, I felt free.
I returned to dance—but this time, it was different. I wasn’t dancing for validation or money. I was dancing to heal. I found a new purpose in fitness. I started filming workouts and sharing my journey with others. I used my degree in kinesiology to help women become confident in their bodies and minds.
Doors started opening—real opportunities, unexpected blessings. I was selling fitness guides, landing jobs, and building something that reflected the woman I truly wanted to be. Prayer and surrender led me to peace, progress, and a purpose beyond what I ever imagined.
Today, I help women like me. Women who've felt torn between survival and self-worth. Through personalized coaching, meal plans, and check-ins, I walk with them as they grow stronger—not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally too.
This is more than a fitness journey. It’s a faith journey. It’s a redemption story. And it’s still unfolding.
In college, I silently battled depression and social anxiety. I was attending school because I felt I had to—not because I wanted to. But somewhere in that struggle, I found my voice and earned my degree, slowly building a sense of purpose.
Money was tight, and eventually, I took a job as a server in an 18+ strip club. The pay was drastically better than my last job, which barely covered my Uber fare. One night, a dance contest changed everything. I stepped onto that stage, won a prize, and something inside me shifted. I found a boldness and a confidence I didn’t know I had. That night marked the beginning of a new identity I thought I needed—one that felt empowered, but often conflicted with my values.
When I lost my car, I turned to OnlyFans. It was financial freedom, sure—but it didn’t sit well with the faith I’d grown up with. Still, I pushed forward, justifying it as “taking back control” while ignoring the quiet guilt creeping in.
From bottle service to dancing in LA clubs, I made more money than I ever had, but the deeper I went, the more I struggled with who I really was. I’d smile online, post like I had it all together, but inside, I was torn. I knew I was influencing people in ways I wasn’t proud of.
One night, a fight in the club woke me up. I looked at myself—not just physically, but spiritually—and asked, “Who am I becoming?” The answer hurt. I was dimming my own light in an environment that never truly valued it.
Acting had always been my dream, and a divine encounter reminded me of that. I started focusing more on auditions and pulled away from the club life. But even with the shift, I kept my OnlyFans account until a breakup forced me to pause and reassess. I shut it down. I turned back to God. And for the first time in a long time, I felt free.
I returned to dance—but this time, it was different. I wasn’t dancing for validation or money. I was dancing to heal. I found a new purpose in fitness. I started filming workouts and sharing my journey with others. I used my degree in kinesiology to help women become confident in their bodies and minds.
Doors started opening—real opportunities, unexpected blessings. I was selling fitness guides, landing jobs, and building something that reflected the woman I truly wanted to be. Prayer and surrender led me to peace, progress, and a purpose beyond what I ever imagined.
Today, I help women like me. Women who've felt torn between survival and self-worth. Through personalized coaching, meal plans, and check-ins, I walk with them as they grow stronger—not just physically, but spiritually and emotionally too.
This is more than a fitness journey. It’s a faith journey. It’s a redemption story. And it’s still unfolding.
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