July 31st was the day I permanently changed my timeline.
When you carry a unique, high-vibe light, small-minded spaces will always feel threatened by your energy. Looking back at my path through the local rock climbing grids, my history is defined by constant elevation and rapid manifestation. None of this is a boast—it is just what naturally flows to you when you operate at a high frequency.
Look at how the universe stacked the milestones completely on autopilot:
- The Model Renaissance: Walking into my power, landing a model renaissance call, and filming a professional commercial campaign directly inside a climbing gym.
- The Promotional Velocity (2021): Stepping onto a new gym floor and being promoted straight to manager in just three months.
- The Global Mission (2021): Stepping fully into my faith to serve as a missionary in Cartagena, Colombia, completely establishing my track prior to being hired.
- The Solo Synchronicities (2022): Boarding a plane and traveling solo across London, England, purely by following divine alignments showing up at the climbing gym.
- The Free Manifestation Miracle (2023–2024): Connecting with my friend Wendy, an elite coordinator from California who stepped in to plan, design, and coordinate our entire gorgeous, debt-free wedding ceremony for free. She gifted us her planning, baked our custom wedding cake, and styled my hair out of pure love. My entire Matron of Honor and bridesmaid lineup were fierce female rock climbers, surrounded by our beautiful climbing guest family, culminating in military jets flying directly overhead as a divine salute on the day Jimmy and I got married.
But 2025 became my heavy testing ground. My time at Hoosier Heights in Carmel came to a sudden, unfair end. They tried to paint a picture that I wasn’t cut out for route setting, using the excuse that I didn’t fit their rigid, timed metrics. But the truth belongs to the community: the customers and the employees absolutely loved my routes. I set with soul, precision, and an eye for movement, and the climbers who actually touched the plastic knew exactly what kind of quality I was bringing to the wall.
Later that same year, in November, I faced a highly biased evaluation during my Single Pitch Instructor exam in the Red River Gorge. Despite the students thriving under my guidance, expressing how confident they felt, and explicitly telling me I knew exactly what I was doing, the instructor repeatedly turned his back on me while I was teaching. He faked an arbitrary narrative that I couldn’t teach, actively trying to tear down a core part of my identity—a master-level coach who successfully managed a gym floor and spent over nine years as an elite Rosetta Stone ESL instructor.
I outgrew that old sandbox anyway. The universe had to strip me away from those rigid spaces to protect my destiny.
To honor my survival, my growth, and the closing of that dark chapter, I chose to physically mark my skin. Because I have so many judgmental relatives, I kept this journey off my primary social media feeds and only sent pictures to a very selective circle of true friends. This is such a sacred tattoo, and I refuse to let any unaligned negative energy project onto it.
Instead, I stepped directly into an environment of pure climbing excellence.
This custom, hand-poked piece was designed and inked in Chicago by my fierce and beautiful friend, Claire—a powerhouse rock climber and climbing gym part-owner. We shared this deep ritual session inside the home of her best friend, who is a female head route setter at a Chicago gym.
The design Claire hand-poked into my skin is her beautiful artistic interpretation of a profound, prophetic dream I carried.
The Cliff and the Wise Woman Dream
But something happened before I even received my negative results. A few days after returning home from that frustrating exam, I had a dream that changed everything.
In it, I had forgotten my glasses and was about to embark on an outdoor adventure. An older, wise woman appeared—someone who saw right into my soul. Tapping directly into my Indigenous lineage and ancestral bloodlines, she even spoke my mother’s name out loud, like she knew the exact lineage of strong women who shaped me.
She led me to a window overlooking a massive cliff, as if testing whether I’d turn away in fear. But I wasn’t afraid. I looked out over that vast landscape, turned to her, and said with complete certainty:
“I’m a rock climber. I’m a certified Single Pitch Instructor. My mother wanted to climb with me.”
It wasn’t me trying to force confidence—it was me speaking from a sovereign place where the journey was already completely finished and full of victory.
A close friend listened to the story and told me:
“I’ve never met a woman with so much faith and determination as you. I think she was one of your spirit guides, letting you know you’re going to get there.”
Her words reminded me that support often comes in unexpected forms: from dreams, from friends, and from the people we guide. When my exam results arrived two weeks later and showed a “no,” I cried hard. My husband held me close, and my puppy, June, pressed into me. But that dream stayed with me, unwavering. It was a divine message showing me that this temporary darkness wasn’t a rejection. It was a re-route to bigger walls, leading me toward climbing in Utah and building my independent homestead.
Claire translated that spiritual vision perfectly into fine-line geometry on my skin:
- The Eclipse & The Summit: The solid black moon resting on the mountain peak represents the exact New Moon eclipse energy I’ve conquered—the temporary darkness right before a massive life breakthrough.
- The Sacred Geometry: The perfect horizontal line and protective semicircle creating a celestial frame that seals my personal boundaries from the outside world.
- The Root Lines: Fine-line energy paths anchoring deep into fertile soil and flowing away like water, honoring my Indigenous connection to the earth and carrying away the old debris.
Sharing that physical space with my friend/tattoo artist Claire and her female head setter home felt like an ancient sanctuary. Thank you, Claire, for completely understanding and interpreting my vision. Thank you for being the very first to mark my skin. This tattoo had to be done by a rock climber; it required someone who understands the grit it takes to survive the crag.
The raw energy in that room was marking me with total luck, serving as a protective shield for my upcoming transitions and a total reclamation of my divine right as a female rock climber. It bestowed upon me divine authority and absolute invincibility. No gatekeeper, no toxic gym manager, and no biased evaluation can ever strip away what my ancestors have already written onto my path.
My Rock Climbing Journey 