I’ve been where you are.

I started speaking out about fairness from almost the moment I could talk. I progressed from middle school petitions to high school anti-apartheid protests. After college, I moved to DC and built a career in immigration and civil rights advocacy. Along the way, I got married, bought a house, had two kids, and got a dog who is usually asleep behind me while I’m coaching, probably upside down.

But that isn’t the whole story. All that time, I was also struggling with crushing anxiety.

My anxiety could get so overwhelming that my brain literally took me down. You know fight, flight, freeze, or faint? Mine chose faint. Not a particularly convenient response, but it was my brain’s hard reset.

I’ve passed out everywhere. Singing in a church choir performance when I was nine. On my wedding day. On Capitol Hill. At holiday dinners. At other people’s weddings. In unfamiliar locations. Even the West Wing of the White House.

Do you know what happens when you have paralyzing anxiety and are working long hours for social justice? You burn out. Total meltdown. By the time I was 32, I was a mess. Exhausted, always sick, trying to make everyone happy except myself.

With every anxiety attack, every time I lay on a floor waiting for one to pass, a tiny voice inside me said: there has to be a better way to live. Finally, I listened.

First came a cognitive behavioral therapist and anti-anxiety medication. Then I started working with a life coach to explore myself and the roots of my anxiety. I realized mine stems from deep-seated perfectionism (a strategy I learned young to mask my ADHD). Brené Brown says you can’t do anything brave if you’re wearing the straitjacket of “what will people think?” Perfectionism is a straitjacket.

So I took it off. Slowly. I created new boundaries, found daily practices that work for me, and built a completely different relationship with myself. One day I realized I hadn’t passed out in months. Then it became years. Now my anxiety is so low I couldn’t raise it high enough to pass out if I tried.

What took anxiety’s place? Freedom. Bravery to speak my mind. The deep knowledge that what I put out into the world is good for the world, even when it’s not perfect.

I coach because I believe most of us hear that little voice telling us there’s a better way, a better world. I want to help you find it.