I didn’t build Psy Club out of theory

I didn’t build Psy Club out of theory.

I built it out of rooms I couldn’t find.

Because the theoretical rooms are smart—yet a bit bloodless.

Because the mystical rooms are tender—yet untethered.

Because I left home at fifteen and learned early that belonging is an interior craft.

Because at eleven I paged through Jung's red book, obsessed, searching for a map.

Because motherhood taught me how my body keeps score—quietly, daily and what love really is. And that I carried many patterns transgenerationally.

Because divorce stripped the story down to its bare bones — and what remained was my full truth.

Because art placed language back in my hands when words felt dangerous to speak aloud.

Because applied psychology gave me scaffolding; aromatherapy gave me a key.

Because energy is my native instrument—subtle, precise, honest. Deeply comforting.

Psy Club is the space I need:

Cozy. Warm. Evidence and incense.

Here, psychology steadies and ritual softens—not opposites, reflections.

Here, scent slips past theory and speaks to the oldest part of you.

Here, energy work does what language can’t:

We trade speed for ceremony, fixing for remembering, answers for resonance—and we leave with something softer than certainty. Cause in life, there is really none.

Clients called my work "a powerful, yet relaxing journey,“grounded, intuitive, an energy blessing that actually blesses.”

Not spectacle. Proof of presence.

I study the science to protect the sacred;

I keep the sacred to guide the journey.

I’ll meet you at the door.