But my favorite was becoming the provider for my family. My grandmothers, Lily and Beth, had just passed. My father suffered a stroke. My mother was injured. My sister was still in medical school, working toward becoming a physical therapist. I was only nineteen when I realized I had to face my fear of working full-time.

I’ve always loved freedom. Especially my own.
Freedom to roam.
To explore new national parks. New cities.
To quench my thirst for adventure.

Mother Nature is my church.
I feel at peace whether I’m stepping into the sacred stillness of the Hoh Rainforest for the first time, or climbing Angel’s Landing to meet my fear of heights face-to-face. My spirit is at full expression when I’m being challenged to grow—when I’m stretching beyond what’s comfortable.

Taking responsibility for myself and my family was a new kind of adventure. One I didn’t feel ready for, but deep down, I knew I was equipped to walk it.

I had to pause my dream of pursuing college and focus on work instead.
Looking back, I’m grateful I was wise enough to attract work that not only paid me but also taught me what I needed to know. I gained knowledge in the field I once dreamed of studying, and I refined my skills through real experience.

I used to say, “I’m earning and learning at the same time.”
And that was exactly it.

I treated every job like a class.
I was the student.
My managers, supervisors, and the founders I worked with were my teachers.

One thing I’ve learned about business is that it’s all about relationships.
I grew my network through authenticity, passion, and purpose.
People can sense your energy.
People can feel your aura.
That’s what opened doors for me. Work. Creative opportunities. Connections I never expected.

Model. Graphic Designer. Retail and Sales Associate. Social Media Assistant. Digital Marketing Assistant. Food Server. Photographer. Social Media Manager. VIP Hostess. Freelance. Contract. Self-Employed. Business Owner.

I’ve worn many titles.
And I’ve learned that even when it feels like you’ve “made it,” success is not defined by titles or paychecks. You can have both and still feel empty.

I’ve sat with people who had everything on paper but no fulfillment.
They shared that with me. I listened.
And I understood.

It’s not about the status. It’s about the impact.
The energy exchanged. The conversations that mattered.
The look in a client’s eyes when they felt seen, heard, and understood.
Those are the moments that stay with you.
Those are the memories that matter.

Over time, I stopped seeing work as just a role.
I became more than someone they hired—I became a friend.
Some of those clients became close. I was welcomed into their families.
That’s when work becomes sacred.

Eventually, you start looking for that same sacredness, presence, and alignment in the people you build life and business with.

It took me time to understand that not everyone is meant to be your friend, client, customer, or partner. Whether romantic or professional.

I used to always give the benefit of the doubt.
I still do. But now, I trust my discernment.

I see it as a gift from God.

It took years to build that trust within myself.
But I’m grateful. Every lesson has shaped my wisdom.
And now, I choose aligned relationships—mind, body, soul, and spirit.

Most importantly, not just aligned relationships—but aligned work.
Work that reflects my values.
Work that honors integrity, creativity, consciousness, care, and joy.
Work that creates real impact.
Work rooted in purpose, healthy collaboration, and a true sense of belonging.
Work that breathes within a strong, heart-centered community.

I want to show up as my truest self. Without compromise, without sacrificing what I stand for.
That might sound impossible to some.
But I believe that if I can show up as such, I will attract the same in return.

That belief has been tested and honored.
Last year, I officially walked away from the nightlife and hospitality scene. From hosting and events that once lit me up. The money was there. The momentum was there.
But it no longer felt aligned.

I had grown out of it. I had grown up.

I learned a lot in that world. I met people from every walk of life.
When I first stepped into it in 2019, I worked my nine-to-five and went straight into the night just to help pay for my father’s hospital bills and support what my family and I needed.

It was survival. But I made it sacred. And I outgrew it.

Now I’m in a softer chapter.
I’ve had the privilege of taking a year away from my work to care for my niece.
She just turned three.
My sister calls me her right hand.
My niece calls me Tita Icy.

She’s become my new teacher.
Some days are lessons in patience.
Other days, in playfulness, presence, and letting go.
She reminds me of what unconditional love feels like.
What it means to be soft and still powerful. Sassy and still safe.

She shows me that a hug can heal. That wonder lives in the ordinary. That joy can live inside a mess.
Her energy colors my world with laughter, tenderness, and beautifully chaotic moments that I now hold sacred.

In this season, I’ve been supporting her early learning, managing the household rhythm, and tending to our family through transition.
It has been a sacred pause. A time to recalibrate.
To return to my creativity with deeper clarity, devotion, and trust in what’s next.

I’ve been living slow, quiet days in the countryside of New York.
Sober. Grounded. Healing.
Returning to rhythm.
Remembering what matters.

And you know which hat I love the most?
Being a daughter.

Being a sister.

Being a tita.

And being myself.