Stripped Down to Essence

There’s a clip of Pamela Anderson that lives rent-free in my heart.

Not the younger one. Not the glossy one. Not the made-up one. The recent ones — where she walks into a room with no makeup, no performance, no need to impress. She’s not trying to reclaim who she was. She’s revealing who she is now.

I wasn’t really a fan before. But now? Now I want to know her.

And maybe that’s because I see something of myself in her.

A few years ago, on a simple spirituality group Zoom call during the pandemic, I shared a quiet list of the things I’ve done — the trainings, the paths I’ve walked, the ways I’ve shown up in the world. To me, it was just… my life. A modest summary of the journey so far.

But someone on the call started sobbing and said it was “too much.” That she was overwhelmed. She actually needed to leave the call — and didn’t even come back to the group.

I hadn’t meant to stir anything up. I wasn’t trying to shine.

But that moment stayed with me. And quietly, I stepped back. From the spotlight. From being “out there.” From the trying.

Not in defeat. In choice.

I spent the next five years caring for my father. Not chasing a brand. Not building a platform. Not researching for a niche. Just being where I was needed. Living in the cave, in a different kind of Light.

And now?

Now I’m standing calm and tall. Calm and quiet, actually.

I didn’t come out of the cave with glitter and slogans. I came out with presence. With clarity. With an unshakeable sense of who I am and what I carry.

I don’t need to convince anyone. I’m not here to prove anything. But I will say this:

Sometimes a humble life story carries so much depth, it cracks open something in the people who hear it.

And that’s okay.

Because I’m not here to overwhelm. I’m here to resonate.

No makeup. No extra. No armor. Just essence.

If you’ve read this far and felt something stir —not because it was flashy, but because it was familiar —you might be one of those people.

The ones who’ve lived through chapters no one fully saw. The ones who kept going, kept caring, kept showing up — even when no one clapped. The ones who’ve stripped away the noise and still wonder, Is there someone who can meet me here?

Yes. There is.

This work — CleanEFT™ — is for you. Not to fix you. Not to coach you. But to meet you in your own language, with your own wisdom. To listen without interruption. To hold space that feels like exhale. To remind you that you were never too much. You were just deep.

So if you're sitting with that quiet sense of, "Where have you been my whole life?"—just know: I’ve been here. And I’m ready when you are.