I’ve been a nomad and seeker for as long as I can remember. My travels, shaped by my natural curiosity and rich multicultural background, have taught me much about people’s innate desire for love, community, and acceptance.

I was shaped and deeply influenced by my lineage of Ukrainian healers and nomads.

Born in Crimea, Ukraine, my childhood was unconventional and eventful, which fostered an early connection to creativity and freedom in me. When I immigrated to Central Europe at the age of 10, I experienced the trauma of displacement, an experience that would later inform much of my work in trauma and healing. Despite having immigrated to a seemingly “prosperous” country, I was miserable as a teenager. Many immigrants like me were taught to feel less than others, and creativity often found no space within the rigid education system.

But amidst the struggle, I managed to find solace in inner work. At the age of 16, I used my journal as a form of self-therapy when there was no other outlet. I turned to meditation to find solace when I lost friends to depression and suicide. I experimented with the Law of Attraction and explored consciousness and spirituality in the moments I wasn’t trying to escape through partying or substances. These experiences taught me everything about the mind’s power in shaping my reality.

During my studies in London, I did a year abroad in Cyprus, where I launched a documentary photography project focusing on female artists and their re-telling of history, which took me around the world—to India, the UK, and Central Europe. I interviewed countless women, listening to stories of inspiration and art, but also profound pain. It was during these travels that I realized trauma isn't just psychological—it’s cultural, ancestral, and deeply embedded in our stories.

Inspired by these narratives, I dedicated the next six years to studying trauma, psychoanalysis, and women’s stories in academia. I saw that the study of spiritual healing was essential within the humanities, even when professors told me my ideas strayed too far into psychology or neuroscience. As I neared enrolling in a PhD program, I had a moment of realization: I didn’t want to spend my life locked up in an institution. I didn’t want to write papers—I wanted to serve women in a tangible, transformative way.

So, I shifted gears. I packed my bags once again and began a new phase of my nomadic life, first moving to Hawai’i, where I lived in an intentional community in the jungle. For the next few years, after completing my second master’s degree, I solo-traveled through Mexico, Guatemala, Egypt, and Ecuador, learning about ancient ways of storytelling, connecting with the land, and honoring the spirit realms.