the woman I became was worth the burning

Motherhood has changed everything.

It cracked me open in ways I could not have prepared for — forcing me to loosen my grip, soften my landing, and release versions of myself I have always relied on for safety. Becoming a mother has been a practice in surrender, in listening more closely, slowing down, and in trusting what I cannot control.

For much of my life and work, I moved through the world with a tight hand on the reins. I planned, controlled, protected. That instinct served me — until it didn’t. 

Motherhood showed me where control was no longer there, and where holding on to "the before" was preventing growth.

This year, my art is shaped by the practice of letting go.

Letting go of who I thought I had to be.
Letting go of how things were “supposed” to look.
Letting go of cycles I  inherited but no longer wish to carry with me or my family.

In releasing my old self, I have made space for intuition to lead — not as something woo-woo or spiritual, but as a quiet, steady intelligence that knows when to speak and when to wait. I have learned no response is a response. 

 I am learning to trust spirit, timing, and the body’s wisdom. I am learning that just presence can be more powerful than effort.

This shift has changed the way I tattoo.

Rather than over-doing or over-directing, I now listen more deeply — to what is here, what is unfinished, what wants to be marked and what wants to be released. The tattoo process itself becomes the work: a moment of embodiment, of courage, of choosing to move forward while honoring what came before.

I am especially drawn to working with people who are in between versions of themselves — those shedding old skins, breaking family patterns, grieving who they were while feeling the pull of who they are becoming. This work is for those who are brave enough to look at themselves honestly, to find pieces of meaning in what has been lived, and to step toward the future with tenderness and bravery.

Healing, to me, is not about fixing or erasing. It is about remembering. About integration. About embodiment. About allowing the past to change us without defining us.

As a mother, I am committed to breaking cycles — not through perfection, but through intuition. As an artist, I bring that same devotion to my work: creating with care, intention, and trust in what is unseen.

 I no longer believe I need to control the outcome for the work to be powerful. I believe in collaboration — between artist and client, body and spirit, intention and release.

This chapter of my work is quieter, truer, and more essential. It is guided by courage rather than certainty, and by trust rather than force.

I offer my tattooing to those who are walking their own threshold — those ready to let go, to listen, and to lead with their heart