MY STORY
Somewhere along the way, I stopped hearing my voice.
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But let’s rewind to the day I discovered I could sing.
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As a young girl, I remember feeling the vibration of every note move through me, starting deep in my chest and rippling outward, as if every cell was waking up to something it had forgotten. Music didn't just express me. It healed me. It gave me a language for emotions I couldn't yet put into words and a place where I could simply be myself.
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Singing made me feel alive. It connected me to something deeper than achievement and reminded me that even when life felt chaotic, there was a quiet voice within me that always knew the way home.
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As a little girl, I also dreamed of becoming a creator. I would walk around the house in my best "work outfit," lunchbox in hand pretending it was my briefcase. I wanted to build things. Lead. Make an impact.
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But somewhere between that fearless girl and adulthood, the voice of possibility became quieter.
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Dreams had to make sense.
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Creativity had to pay the bills.
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So, like many ambitious women, I chose the responsible path.
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After college, I spent more than a decade working in tech as a product designer, helping global companies bring incredible ideas into the world. On paper, I had everything I thought I wanted: exciting projects, a successful career, and the stability I'd worked so hard to achieve.
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But beneath the success, something felt off.
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I was spending my days helping companies bring their ideas into the world while quietly putting many of my own on hold.
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At first it showed up as restlessness. Then came the overthinking. The self doubt. The quiet voice that whispered:
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"Who are you to want more?"
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"You're already successful."
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"Don't risk everything now."
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No matter how much I accomplished, that voice only became louder.
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Looking back, I can see it wasn't a lack of confidence.
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It was subconscious fear.
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Fear disguised as responsibility.
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Fear disguised as perfectionism.
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Fear disguised as practicality.
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It wasn't protecting me.
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It was keeping me from creating the life and the work I was here to create.
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In 2018, I made one of the hardest decisions of my life. I left my corporate career and bought a one way ticket to Uganda to work with my brother's social enterprise startup.
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For the first time in years, I wasn't following someone else's roadmap.
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I was following my own.
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Travelling through remote villages, interviewing teachers, and listening to stories of resilience and purpose, something inside me began to wake up again.
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Every story reminded me that meaningful work isn't about status.
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It's about contribution.
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Somewhere between the red dirt roads and open skies, I realised the voice I'd been searching for had never disappeared. It had simply been buried beneath years of expectations, conditioning, and fear.
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When I came home, I couldn't go back to normal.
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My search for answers led me into the world of subconscious transformation. I trained with the Chopra Center, where I became an instructor in meditation and wellbeing, and later with Marisa Peer as an RTT hypnotherapist.
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As I worked with hundreds of people, I noticed the same pattern over and over again.
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The biggest obstacle wasn't a lack of talent.
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It wasn't a lack of ambition.
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It was subconscious fear.
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Fear that whispered:
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"You're not ready."
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"Someone else has already done it."
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"Wait until you're more qualified."
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I recognised that voice because it had been guiding my own life for years.
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And then I realised something.
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I had spent over a decade helping companies bring their ideas into the world while leaving many of my own behind.
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So I made a decision.
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Instead of waiting until I felt ready, I started creating.
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I built the hOm Wellness app to make subconscious transformation, meditation, breathwork, and sound healing accessible to anyone with a phone.
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I began speaking publicly about the work that mattered to me.
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And after years of silence, I started singing again.
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Not because I wanted to become a performer, but because singing had always been the purest expression of my authentic voice.
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Today, everything I do sits at the intersection of those experiences.
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My years in tech taught me how products are built.
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My work in subconscious transformation taught me why brilliant people never build them.
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Music taught me that our voice is so much more than what we say.
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It's our intuition.
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Our creativity.
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Our courage to act on the ideas that won't leave us alone.
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That's why today I help female entrepreneurs overcome the subconscious fears that keep them from turning their ideas into products, businesses, and meaningful work.
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Because I believe the world doesn't need more brilliant ideas sitting in notebooks.
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It needs more women who trust their voice enough to bring them into the world.
