Hi, I’m Ashley, your attunement guide.

For the longest time, I didn’t know what that really meant. I used to call myself an “empowerment coach.” It sounded good, but the word “coach” never felt right. It didn’t capture the depth of what I did—or the depth of who I am.

I spent over 16 years as a social worker, pouring my heart into seeing, hearing, and holding space for others. I was good at it—really good at it—but I didn’t realize why until an EMDR training changed everything.

My instructor drew a diagram on the board: a “P” (parent) with arrows pointing to “C” (child), and vice versa. She explained how, ideally, a parent attunes to a child—recognizing their emotions, fostering safety, and highlighting their strengths. But when a child isn’t attuned to, they learn to attune to the parent instead. They become hyper-vigilant, overly empathetic, constantly reading the room to adapt to their parents’ emotions.

That hit me like a ton of bricks. For the first time, I had a word for my experience: unattuned.

I grew up in survival mode, unattuned to by the people around me. I didn’t know who I was because no one reflected me back to myself. And while that lack shaped me in painful ways, it also gave me a gift: the ability to attune deeply to others.

The Little Girl I Used to Be

I was the youngest of three kids living in California. When my mom left my dad—and, to be fair, she had her reasons—we ended up in Fredericksburg, Texas, with a man I don’t even remember meeting before. He turned out to be an alcoholic and a bipolar manic depressive. Life with him was chaotic, to say the least.

In our house, chaos was the norm. My brother was angry, my sister kept the peace by burying her head in the sand, and then there was me—confused and desperately trying to piece it all together. I thought my life was normal, but the truth was, it was deeply sad.

I didn’t know what safety or connection felt like. I grew up unseen and unheard, constantly navigating a house filled with tension. I was left to figure things out on my own, and as a result, I became hyper-vigilant, always attuning to others because no one was attuning to me.

As I got older, I didn’t know what to do with all the pain I carried. So I got angry—embarrassingly, uncontrollably angry. But underneath that anger was a grief I couldn’t name.

Hiding My Pain

When I went to college, I carried that grief with me. I numbed it with heavy drinking and avoided anything that forced me to face my truth. I hid where I came from, even from my closest friends.

I never told them about the trailer house I grew up in, the fifth wheel I lived in during fifth grade, or the times when we didn’t even have enough money for toothpaste. I was deeply ashamed of my story—ashamed and embarrassed of who I was and where I came from.

Even when I met my now-husband at 21, I couldn’t fully open up to him. I saw his potential and his safety—a safety I craved so deeply that I latched onto it without ever addressing or being honest about the storm raging inside me.

The 2020 Breaking Point

Fast forward to 2020 and 12 years of marriage, I finally hit a breaking point. I was reactive and angry, especially with my family. I had deep shame of my origin story and was tired of feeling stuck. That’s when I decided to take a hard look at myself and begin doing the deep inner work I had avoided for so long. I didn’t have the language for it yet, but I knew I had deep-rooted issues to work through. 

I began tuning into and my healing my inner child, facing my shadows, and learning to regulate my nervous system. I started recognizing my lack of attunement for what it was, even if I didn’t yet have the words to describe it. That year marked a profound shift—I started tuning into myself, my emotions, and my needs.

But as much as I grew, my marriage struggled to keep up with the changes.

The 2023 Rock Bottom

In 2023, we hit a rock bottom we didn’t see coming. Even though we had grown individually, our relationship hadn’t grown with us. We were operating out of outdated definitions, boundaries, and habits that no longer aligned with who we had become. It was like we were trying to fit ourselves into a box we had outgrown, and it wasn’t working.

We struggled with deep codependency issues, and for the first time, we had to face them head-on. Coming from tough childhoods, both of us carried baggage that we had never fully unpacked together. And that almost cost us our marriage.

By Christmas 2023, we made a choice. We decided to redefine everything—our relationship, our roles, our partnership and our environment. We chose to grow individually while committing to choose each other daily. It wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

The 2023 rock bottom taught me that healing isn’t linear, and growth isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s about constantly redefining, reassessing, and re-choosing who you are and what you want.

The Shift

The real change began when I stopped looking outward and started looking inward. I learned to set boundaries, pour into myself first, and show up as the woman I wanted to become. For the first time in my life, I felt whole.

Now, I’m an attunement guide because I know what it’s like to feel lost, unseen, and untethered. I help others tune back into themselves—because healing and attunement are for everyone.

Let’s be clear: you don’t have to live through my exact struggles to need or benefit from attunement. Healing is for everyone. Attunement is for everyone. Whether you feel lost, overwhelmed, disconnected, or simply know there’s more for you in life, this work is for you.

No matter where you’re starting from, your story is valid. Your healing is valid. And you are deserving of a life where you feel seen, heard, and deeply connected—to yourself and to the world around you. 

If you need help tuning in, call me, I'll get you where you need to be in very little time together. 

With Big Love,
XO, Ashley