My Journey: From Pain to Purpose
I want to share my story so you can understand the depth of the journey I’ve walked. It holds painful truths and might stir difficult emotions, so please read only if you feel ready to hold space for it.
“Stop! I have a headache!” Mama screamed, and for a moment, I released my grip on her striped pink dress, startled.
Maybe she’s swallowing all those pills because of the headache, I thought.
Papa had warned me: “Watch out for her.” Lately, their violent fights had grown worse. Mama wanted out of the marriage—to be with her new lover. “She’s threatening to commit suicide,” he’d told me.
With all my six-year-old strength, I fought her. But she swallowed most of the pills anyway. Picking up my screaming baby brother, she thrust him into my arms and locked eyes with me. “Look after him,” she said before lying down on her bed.
Terrified, I ran outside, banging on neighbors’ doors, begging for help. Someone called an ambulance, and at the hospital, they saved her life. A month later, she tried again, this time rolling her car off a cliff. Grace saved her.
That was the day my childhood ended. At six years old, I became my mother’s lifeline, the one who found reasons for her to live when she could find none herself. The weight of her survival rested on my tiny shoulders.
We soon moved in with Mama’s boyfriend’s family—his wife and three kids. Their household reeked of tension and dysfunction, and we were unwelcome guests. When Mama became pregnant, we were kicked out. He moved with us into a new home, and soon after my sister was born, I found the courage to tell my grandma what had been happening.
At 10 years old, I broke the silence: Mama’s boyfriend had been molesting me.
I was interrogated by three policemen in front of my father and grandparents. That day, I left home with nothing but the clothes on my back, moving in with my father and his girlfriend—a woman I’d met only once.
Her cruelty was immediate and deliberate. She mocked me, belittled me, and found ways to make me feel worthless. Her anger was sharp and relentless, her words often cutting deeper than any physical pain. Instead of finding sanctuary, I found more abuse.
And Mama? She bailed him out of jail. In court, she told the judge I’d made it all up. He walked free.
Not only that—she later married him. They had another child together, my youngest brother. While their lives moved forward, I was left to navigate the aftermath of betrayal, silence, and trauma on my own.
But there was one place where I found a fleeting sense of freedom: onstage, performing with a magician. I was the girl who got “cut in half,” traveling the country. It was a fragile escape from a reality too painful to face.
At 21, I set out to travel across Africa. In the vast, endless expanse of the Namibian desert, I had my first spiritual awakening. But healing is never linear.
In my mid-twenties, I spiraled into drug use. At first, it numbed the pain and filled the void, but soon it consumed me. One dark night, lying on my boyfriend’s bathroom floor, I faced my mortality. I wasn’t sure I’d make it until morning. That moment became my wake-up call.
It was there, on the cold bathroom tiles, that I made a choice: I will no longer be the victim of my story. I will be the hero of my life.
I embarked on a healing journey, devouring every book, trying every modality, and shedding countless tears. Healing isn’t easy, but it is simple: it’s a journey back home to ourselves. Confronting my pain, I learned to embrace even the parts of me I didn’t like. I broke free from the false beliefs that bound me. I freed myself from generational trauma as a third-generation Holocaust survivor.
This alchemical journey inspired my first book, RISE: Transform Trauma into Sovereign Power, Soulful Purpose & Sacred Pleasure. It captures the essence of my transformation and provides tools to help others reclaim their sovereignty and step into their divine potential.
My second book, Transforming Trauma: Inspiring Stories & Powerful Tools for Manifesting Peace, Hope & Healing, was born from my desire to share not only my story but also those of others who have risen above their pain. It’s a testament to the universal truth: our wounds can become portals to peace and healing.
Today, I’m a proud mother of three starseed children. As a cycle breaker, I’ve ended the patterns of pain and dysfunction in my lineage. The trauma stops with me.
And I forgave—not for them, but for myself. Forgiveness freed me from the chains of resentment and pain that once bound my heart. Today, both my mother and stepmother hold respectful, though distant, places in my life—a reflection of the boundaries I’ve created to honor my healing.
In 2012, at Africa Burn, I received a message to align with my highest purpose. I sold my seven-figure business and embarked on a four-year journey with my husband and three young kids, living in India, Bali, Peru, and the jungles of Costa Rica. This spiritual quest deepened my healing and raised my consciousness to the multidimensional. It was during this time that I was given my new name, marking the shift in my soul’s purpose.
Through breathwork, silent retreats, and sacred plant medicines like Ayahuasca, San Pedro, Peyote, and Psilocybin, I uncovered layers of truth within myself. These ancient allies helped me access a depth of healing I never imagined possible. It was a transformation that prepared me for my calling.
Today, I am a bestselling author of RISE and Transforming Trauma and founder of The Rise Tribe, awakening people to their divine nature. My mission is to help others transform their life stories, unlock their divine potential, and impact the world with their unique medicine.
I’ve helped thousands heal, rise, and transform pain into power. This journey isn’t just mine—it’s ours. And it’s proof that from the deepest wounds, we can birth the brightest light.
Nunaisi
My Journey: From Pain to Purpose
I want to share my story so you can understand the depth of the journey I’ve walked. It holds painful truths and might stir difficult emotions, so please read only if you feel ready to hold space for it.
“Stop! I have a headache!” Mama screamed, and for a moment, I released my grip on her striped pink dress, startled.
Maybe she’s swallowing all those pills because of the headache, I thought.
Papa had warned me: “Watch out for her.” Lately, their violent fights had grown worse. Mama wanted out of the marriage—to be with her new lover. “She’s threatening to commit suicide,” he’d told me.
With all my six-year-old strength, I fought her. But she swallowed most of the pills anyway. Picking up my screaming baby brother, she thrust him into my arms and locked eyes with me. “Look after him,” she said before lying down on her bed.
Terrified, I ran outside, banging on neighbors’ doors, begging for help. Someone called an ambulance, and at the hospital, they saved her life. A month later, she tried again, this time rolling her car off a cliff. Grace saved her.
That was the day my childhood ended. At six years old, I became my mother’s lifeline, the one who found reasons for her to live when she could find none herself. The weight of her survival rested on my tiny shoulders.
We soon moved in with Mama’s boyfriend’s family—his wife and three kids. Their household reeked of tension and dysfunction, and we were unwelcome guests. When Mama became pregnant, we were kicked out. He moved with us into a new home, and soon after my sister was born, I found the courage to tell my grandma what had been happening.
At 10 years old, I broke the silence: Mama’s boyfriend had been molesting me.
I was interrogated by three policemen in front of my father and grandparents. That day, I left home with nothing but the clothes on my back, moving in with my father and his girlfriend—a woman I’d met only once.
Her cruelty was immediate and deliberate. She mocked me, belittled me, and found ways to make me feel worthless. Her anger was sharp and relentless, her words often cutting deeper than any physical pain. Instead of finding sanctuary, I found more abuse.
And Mama? She bailed him out of jail. In court, she told the judge I’d made it all up. He walked free.
Not only that—she later married him. They had another child together, my youngest brother. While their lives moved forward, I was left to navigate the aftermath of betrayal, silence, and trauma on my own.
But there was one place where I found a fleeting sense of freedom: onstage, performing with a magician. I was the girl who got “cut in half,” traveling the country. It was a fragile escape from a reality too painful to face.
At 21, I set out to travel across Africa. In the vast, endless expanse of the Namibian desert, I had my first spiritual awakening. But healing is never linear.
In my mid-twenties, I spiraled into drug use. At first, it numbed the pain and filled the void, but soon it consumed me. One dark night, lying on my boyfriend’s bathroom floor, I faced my mortality. I wasn’t sure I’d make it until morning. That moment became my wake-up call.
It was there, on the cold bathroom tiles, that I made a choice: I will no longer be the victim of my story. I will be the hero of my life.
I embarked on a healing journey, devouring every book, trying every modality, and shedding countless tears. Healing isn’t easy, but it is simple: it’s a journey back home to ourselves. Confronting my pain, I learned to embrace even the parts of me I didn’t like. I broke free from the false beliefs that bound me. I freed myself from generational trauma as a third-generation Holocaust survivor.
This alchemical journey inspired my first book, RISE: Transform Trauma into Sovereign Power, Soulful Purpose & Sacred Pleasure. It captures the essence of my transformation and provides tools to help others reclaim their sovereignty and step into their divine potential.
My second book, Transforming Trauma: Inspiring Stories & Powerful Tools for Manifesting Peace, Hope & Healing, was born from my desire to share not only my story but also those of others who have risen above their pain. It’s a testament to the universal truth: our wounds can become portals to peace and healing.
Today, I’m a proud mother of three starseed children. As a cycle breaker, I’ve ended the patterns of pain and dysfunction in my lineage. The trauma stops with me.
And I forgave—not for them, but for myself. Forgiveness freed me from the chains of resentment and pain that once bound my heart. Today, both my mother and stepmother hold respectful, though distant, places in my life—a reflection of the boundaries I’ve created to honor my healing.
In 2012, at Africa Burn, I received a message to align with my highest purpose. I sold my seven-figure business and embarked on a four-year journey with my husband and three young kids, living in India, Bali, Peru, and the jungles of Costa Rica. This spiritual quest deepened my healing and raised my consciousness to the multidimensional. It was during this time that I was given my new name, marking the shift in my soul’s purpose.
Through breathwork, silent retreats, and sacred plant medicines like Ayahuasca, San Pedro, Peyote, and Psilocybin, I uncovered layers of truth within myself. These ancient allies helped me access a depth of healing I never imagined possible. It was a transformation that prepared me for my calling.
Today, I am a bestselling author of RISE and Transforming Trauma and founder of The Rise Tribe, awakening people to their divine nature. My mission is to help others transform their life stories, unlock their divine potential, and impact the world with their unique medicine.
I’ve helped thousands heal, rise, and transform pain into power. This journey isn’t just mine—it’s ours. And it’s proof that from the deepest wounds, we can birth the brightest light.
Nunaisi
