I grew up in Kenya, surrounded by a deep sense of community, intricate histories, and a unique rhythm of life that profoundly influenced my worldview. However, I was also a white child raised by missionary parents whose presence was deeply rooted in the legacy of colonization. I found myself living within a culture that was not inherently my own, which often made me feel adrift and out of place. I was caught between two worlds, unable to articulate my queerness, neurodivergence, or the deeper questions about identity, power, and belonging that were already stirring within me.

At nineteen, I packed two suitcases and moved to the U.S. for college. I earned my degree in special education while climbing the ranks from intern to program director at a nonprofit in Memphis. By the time I crossed the graduation stage as valedictorian and student speaker, I had already led programs for thousands of children, trained hundreds of volunteers, and co-founded an initiative supporting families navigating disability.

Teaching was a natural next step. I poured myself into helping neurodivergent and disabled students thrive - leading with both care and high expectations, and earning some of the highest test scores in the district. It was also in Memphis that I began naming my internal world. Therapy gave me a framework for understanding my experiences through the lens of anxiety and PTSD- marking the start of a much deeper unraveling.

Eventually, I needed something more. I sold everything I owned and moved to New York, ready to rebuild. When the pandemic hit, the stillness gave me space to uncover more: first ADHD, then sensory processing issues. Later, as I navigated corporate life, I began to see just how out of sync the structures were with the needs of disabled and neurodivergent people- especially those of us navigating multiple, intersecting identities.

I co-founded and co-led an ERG focused on disability, neurodivergence, and mental health. For two years, I worked to shift culture, build systems, and advocate for support that was sustainable, not symbolic. But when the company shifted to a return-to-office model that no longer worked for me, I chose to move forward on my terms. I had already been dreaming of launching my own company - so when I transitioned into a converted camper van, I made the leap.

I lost my job, health insurance, and access to care almost overnight. But I gained something else: clarity. Space. The ability to slow down and listen deeply. That chaotic, beautiful season brought truths to the surface: I’m autistic. I’m trans. I can’t sit still (in an ADHD way but also where I live way).

I launched my company to help organizations move beyond surface-level inclusion and build access-driven cultures rooted in intersectionality, disability justice and universal design. Through keynotes, custom workshops, and leadership trainings, I offer both practical tools and lived experience to shift not just policies- but people.

Alongside that, I support individuals- especially disabled and neurodivergent folks- through one-on-one self-advocacy coaching. I help people better understand their communication styles, name their needs, and build the language and confidence to navigate feedback, set boundaries, and advocate for themselves at work.

Eventually, my path led me to California- driving coast to coast, not searching for care and community, but creating it along the way. These days, I’m still on the road, dreaming up what’s next in this adventure- while staying rooted in the work I love: building spaces where all brains, all bodies, and all backgrounds can belong.