The MRA’s Origin Story - Chapter 1

Leaning into the whispers

It was April 7th, 2010—my 25th birthday. I sat at a packed, vibrant super club, where the flashing lights and pulsating music created an atmosphere of excitement and celebration. Yet, inside, I felt an aching dissonance—a disconnect so profound it was as though I were watching my own life from the outside. The cheers and laughter around me should have been uplifting, but instead, they magnified the quiet, insistent hum of anxiety within. It wasn’t the people or the occasion—it was me. I felt a growing discomfort I couldn’t ignore, as though I were a spectator in my own life.

"No one here truly knows me," I thought. "Who are they even celebrating?"

It would have been easy to blame the scene or the people around me. But deep down, I knew the problem wasn’t external. The truth was, I didn’t know myself. On the surface, I could describe who I was—but beneath that carefully constructed exterior lay fear and insecurity. I was a stranger to myself, and my relationships mirrored that confusion, reflecting back the disconnection I felt within.

Outwardly, it may have looked like I had it all. I had recently graduated university, landed a great job in my field of study—international business with a crown corporation—I had good friends, was in a long-term relationship, came from a wonderful family, and was in good health.

But my inner world was in turmoil.

If you met me, you wouldn’t have guessed. I would confidently tell you my life was great, and I would have believed it. But when left alone with my thoughts, feelings, and emotions brewing beneath the surface, a different story began to unfold.

I wore a mask, and I wore it well—so well that I didn’t even realize I was wearing one. That is, until my whole world came crumbling down shortly after the night of my 25th birthday.

Oprah often shares the insight that life first speaks to you in whispers. If you don’t pay attention to the whispers, they grow louder, eventually becoming screams. And if you ignore the screams, life has a way of knocking you flat to get your attention.

Let's just put it this way, my world was in shambles. Some of the most important relationships in my life had ended in flames—betrayal and heartbreak marked by addictions and co-dependency. Core relationships that once were so important to my identity shattered into a million little pieces.

And what felt like the end of my young life was, in truth, just the beginning.

One day, in the midst of my own despair, I looked around at the chaos and drama that surrounded me and realized there was one common denominator in all of it: me.

The lyrics to Taylor Swift's, Anti-Hero: "It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me." would have been my theme song all those years ago! Comical now, but then it was all-consuming and utterly overwhelming.

The counselor I was seeing at the time, sensing that I needed a different approach to healing beyond the usual self-help strategies, lent me a book called Conversations with God by Neale Donald Walsch. This book opened a door I had long avoided and planted a seed—a possibility that there was more to uncover, that I could start to explore the deeper layers of life's meaning and who I was. The first words I read in the book were, "If you do not go within, you go without." Those words were like a beacon in the night, guiding me to where I needed to go next.

I was desperate to understand and know myself more deeply, to lay down the masks and identities I’d worn and uncover what lay beneath it all. I wanted to sit with my anxiety, my discomfort, my overwhelm, and the fears that were riddling me, and hear what they actually had to say.

So within I went.

As I shed the false selves I had constructed over the years, I began to reconnect with the part of me that had always been there—perhaps since the day I was born. This part was deep, wise, and intricately attuned to the world around me, noticing connections and subtleties that others often overlooked. She was a curious soul who saw life differently than most. As I listened more closely, I discovered how to discern her voice from all the others within: still, unwavering, quiet, and strong. I realized she had always been there. In the most challenging times of my life, she had supported me, comforted me, and guided me forward.

The more I got to know her, the more I wanted her to lead the way. Reconnecting with this part of myself required daily work and an unprecedented devotion to tuning into her quiet wisdom, amplifying her voice, and allowing it to rise above the noise of doubt, shame, and fear. It became a practice of embracing the sensitivity and intuition I had long overlooked—the parts of me I thought were wrong, flawed, or didn’t belong.

I was discovering the rawest, most unbridled, authentic version of myself—and I was falling madly in love with her.

As I deepened my connection to myself, incredible things began to unfold in my life. My relationships started healing and transforming—some naturally fell away, while others deepened in breathtaking ways. The connection I was discovering within myself was mirrored outwardly in my world. Gradually, my outer world began to reflect the harmony I was cultivating within.

What's more, this alignment opened a portal to my truest dreams—not goals planted by others or society, but the real yearnings of my soul. These were dreams of a life deeply rooted in my values, gifts, and joys, born from the seat of my most authentic self. 

What I’ve learned since then is this: When you envision your life from that place and make choices, decisions, and actions guided by the inner voice of wisdom that knows the way forward—Life has an uncanny ability to split oceans and move mountains to bring you where you’re meant to be. 

My journey stands as living proof of this truth.

Witnessing this magic unfold in my own life sparked an unshakable desire in me: I wanted to share this wisdom and help others find the same transformation within themselves.

This yearning led me to discover the art of coaching. At the time, the online coaching industry had yet to boom, and the only coach I knew was a corporate coach named Leslie at the company where I worked (she would later have a very important role to play in Part 2 of The MRA's Origin Story).

I always say, you know you’re at your growing edge when your next best step terrifies your mind and stir your soul. It's a motto I live by today, but it wasn’t always that way. I vividly remember the first time I felt the true tension of that statement. Something deep within me was pulling me toward training to become a world-class coach and nurturing these desires within me, yet my mind kept throwing every excuse in the book: "What if this is a gigantic waste of time and money?" "What if I never become a successful coach?" "What if I can’t get a return on my investment?" And perhaps most vulnerable of all: "What if this dream of mine is simply not possible?"

Wrestling with fear on one hand and hope on the other, I chose to trust that quiet, intuitive voice within me. It felt like a steady presence, whispering reassurance even as doubt loomed large. This voice wasn’t loud or forceful, but it carried a clarity and certainty that my mind could not ignore, urging me to take a step into the unknown. 

It was as if that voice within me knew something my logical mind did not.

Courageously, I decided that if nothing else came of this investment in my training—if I couldn’t make a living out of these beautiful gifts—these skills would make me a better mother one day, partner, daughter, sister, friend, colleague, neighbour…

Plainly put, it would make me a better, more authentic version of myself.

There are moments in life that mark you, that change the trajectory of your path. Looking back now, that decision was a monumental turning point for me. I’m so grateful to my past self for bravely making the choice—it was the first time I made a decision to invest in what I wanted (not what my parents wanted for me, or what society thought I should do). I’d been down that road my entire life, and although I achieved many great things, none of it felt truly aligned to me. None of it quenched the deep thirst of my soul.

So off I went back to school part-time while holding down a full-time job in the corporate world. I was learning the art of truly listening—holding space for someone’s fullest potential and allowing their truth to emerge in conversation. It felt like stepping into my element, a space where I belonged. This craft became an outlet for my full self-expression.

You see, I’ve never considered myself someone with standout natural gifts. I wasn’t remarkable at anything in school or as a young adult in university. I never won any special awards. I was never recognized as someone with notable talents. I was very ordinary. But through the alignment I was discovering in my life—the deep, transformative shifts in my conversations and relationships—I began to realize that this craft was far from ordinary for me.

When I coach, something otherworldly takes over. I’m in flow. Time stops, and there is nothing else in the world other than this other human and me. The beauty, the alignment, the feeling of that kind of flow and connection within me, the way my heart opened every time I deeply witnessed another human—that’s how I knew that this is what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

Never have I found a craft and skillset that honors another human so completely—a practice that creates space for someone to access their inner voice of wisdom, nurturing it, amplifying it, and allowing it to lead the way. What struck me most was how accessible this craft is: you don’t need magic pills, a mystical setting, or a guru to heal you or give you the answers you seek. 

The true art of coaching creates a space where your inner teacher emerges as the guiding force.

It’s the most powerful and pure modality I’ve ever encountered. The simplicity of these profound skills transformed not only my clients’ lives but also reshaped my understanding of what’s possible through human connection and self-discovery. Witnessing this transformation, I vowed to refine, hone, and nurture these skills relentlessly. I committed to becoming the best I could be in this art form, trusting Life to guide me where I’m most needed.

And this was just the beginning.

The journey since that decision has been nothing short of extraordinary. Where Life led me next, and how the MRA came to be, will unfold in Part 2 and Part 3 of this series. Stay tuned!