I build loud voices for those the world desperately needs

It's not a business model. Or a niche. Or an ideal client avatar.

It's a mission.

Because I know the consequences of those voices being too quiet to be found. Too broke to reach their audience. Or too burned out to create.

I know, because I was someone who needed them to find me. Without them, I wouldn't be here today.

For years, I was sexually assaulted and abused in an abusive marriage.

How could I let that happen? Why didn’t I leave? 

Because I believed what the world taught me; that I (my body included) belonged to him.

I’d cry the next morning and tell myself that staying was my duty. That saying no and fighting him off didn’t apply inside marriage. That I was a bad wife for even trying to make him stop. 

But the body keeps the score. And when the panic attacks set in, the episodes of suddenly wetting the bed, the infections and chronic fear continued… I had to make hardest decision of my life. 

Not because I was strong enough to. Not because I knew I deserved better or thought grass was greener on the other side. 

But because I knew if I didn’t, I wouldn’t survive and my kids would be left to try and make it out on their own. Isolated. Without anyone knowing the truth of what was happening behind closed doors. 

April 4, 2022 wasn’t just the hardest day of my life, it was the launching pad of the hardest next three years of my life. 

There’s something nobody really tells you about healing… and in retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t know… It is f***ing hard. 

For three years I disappeared. I went from signing five-figure clients, to just trying to make it through the night without an episode. 

Was I hiding? Yeah… sort of. 

Healing? Definitely. 

But mostly, I was remembering who I truly was, before trauma tried to tell me who I am. 

Remembering what real safety feels like, before the person who was supposed to BE my safety tried to convince me that danger was all there was. 

Remembering that life is worth living, before each day became a battle just to believe that. 

And I didn’t do it alone. I couldn’t do it alone. 

My sister was my strength, my mom was my heart, and my team of healers, helpers, and support were my hope. 

Without them, I wouldn’t have learned breath work to bring myself out of an episode. 

I wouldn’t have experienced tapping to reset my reactive body. 

I wouldn’t have found freedom in flowing tears and belonging in knowing I wasn’t alone. 

The Friday nights at Every Woman’s Place, sharing a meal and finding a family. 

The therapy sessions twice a week that went so far beyond talk therapy and broke open the hidden, diseased, and toxic remnants of what had been done to me. 

The weekly coaching that helped me find myself again and gave me the courage to say, “Yes” to new clients and eventually to going back to school to get my degree in Pre Law after 20 years out of the academic setting. 

And when I did, I realized, I wasn’t the same person I had been before. I’d seen the deep need for the healers, helpers, therapists… those that helped me. I realized that those who were doing the most good in the world were often the least funded. 

And I couldn’t sit idly by. 

That’s how The Messaging Lab was born.

A business, yes.

A service, for sure.

But also a movement.

A place for healers, helpers, conscious entrepreneurs… businesses that give a damn to come together and be seen.

Be supported. And GET LOUD.