Clarity for the season you’re in.

🌿 My Story (The Long Version)

I’m a first-generation Salvadoran American.

Both of my parents came to the U.S. from El Salvador, and I grew up straddling worlds—language, culture, survival, and identity. I was one of the first in my family to attend college, following my mom’s footsteps and carving out a path with almost no roadmap.

No one could tell me how to find a job, how to network, or how to navigate capitalism as a bilingual, bicultural, hyper-aware woman of color.

I learned by doing, stumbling, and starting again.

I still carry the memory of my very first job interview after graduation in 2014: the first question they asked was whether I was a U.S. citizen—because of my accent.

An accent I didn’t even know I had. But of course I had one. We all do.

Different regions, different roots, different rhythms.

I majored in English (because journaling saved my life growing up and writing is a useful skill) and minored in technical writing (because I was trying to be “smart” and recession-proof).

However, I soon realized that while I could write grant applications and technical copy, I didn’t want to. That kind of writing—dry, transactional, disembodied—wasn’t for me.

It didn’t leave room for nuance, feeling, or complexity. It didn’t feel like home.

Still, I tried.

I hopped from job to job in the nonprofit and contract world, looking for something that could pay the bills and not crush my spirit.

Eventually, I stopped trying to fit into an industry, title, or career path.

I became a dog walker. Then a yoga teacher.

Then, a yoga studio manager.

I gave myself space to breathe and listen.

I thought maybe health was my calling. I had always been fascinated by healing. So before I racked up more student debt, I got a job at the front desk of a physical therapy clinic.

It was hard.

No lunch breaks.

A schedule that stretched me thin. But I wanted to test the field from the inside. See what fit.

Spoiler: it didn’t. But it taught me a lot. About bodies. About systems. About the cost of care.

Then I pivoted again—this time toward creativity.

I studied graphic design. I started connecting the dots between communication, storytelling, visuals, and user experience.

Slowly, I took a turn onto the wide world of communications—internal, external, digital, strategic.

I wrote newsletters. Managed content. Led creative processes. Helped execs and teams get clear on their messages and values.

Finally having a career.

And then the pandemic hit.

I lost my job. I lost some stability. But I gained something else: clarity.

Since then, I’ve been working as a contractor and consultant—supporting teams, leaders, and purpose-driven professionals with writing, strategy, clarity, and care.

I’ve also launched my own coaching offer, the Career Clarity Catalyst, which is a one-month container for folks who are navigating identity shifts, work transitions, or just need a reset that doesn’t require abandoning themselves.

I didn’t “climb the ladder.”

I walked away from it.

I’ve built this career from scratch. Rebuilt it. Questioned it. Reimagined it. And now, I’m here—to help others do the same.

If you’re navigating chaos, burnout, or the blurry in-between, I see you.

If you’re trying to build something that honors your body, your brilliance, and your boundaries—I’m here for that too.

This work isn’t about finding your “dream job.”

It’s about creating a life that works—for you.