Finding Light in the Dark

A Reflection on Healing

"Be a lighthouse, not a towboat."

- Rob Dial

Our healing journeys aren't meant to be walked alone.

For many years, I carried my pain quietly, believing I had to navigate it by myself in silence. But healing has taught me something different—when we speak our truth, we create space for others to breathe, soften, and recognize their own.

Wildflower Wellness was born from that understanding.

My mission has always been simple: to offer a place where people can reconnect with themselves. A place where the body, mind, and spirit are honored as one. A place where we remember that we are allowed to heal, grow, crumble, rise, and start again. Just like wildflowers, we are resilient, capable of blooming even after the hardest seasons.

Carrying Untold Stories

There are stories we carry for years before we ever learn how to speak them. Some of them feel tangled, heavy, or too layered to put into words. Plus, do we really want to share that pain with others? Often, it can be too much to bare. Lately, pieces of my past have been rising to the surface, asking to be witnessed. I've been feeling called to share more openly, not for sympathy, but because I know how healing it can be when we realize we aren't the only ones who've lived through hell and found our way back to heaven. In sharing this part of my story, my hope is that it offers others permission to speak their truth, to feel seen, and remember that even the heaviest beginnings can lead to light.

What follows is part of my history, an honest reflection on the experiences that shaped me and the journey that led me to where I am now.

Some parts of my story include difficult experiences from my childhood, including neglect and abuse. I share them here with honesty and compassion, as a reflection on the journey toward healing.

My childhood is one of those tales we don't speak of—full of movement, instability, and experiences no child should ever have to navigate. I grew up in a life marked by poverty, illness, neglect, abuse in all forms, and environments where pain echoed through generations. My Mother was 16 when she began her journey as a parent, doing the best she could with the minimal tools she had, the environment around her, and still holding deep traumas of her own.

My father and mother were never together, and for good reason, but I was still required to visit him regularly. Those visits added another layer of confusion and instability to an already unstable childhood.

Having a solid foundation wasn't a thing in my upbringing. We moved constantly. New schools, new houses, new situations. We lived off food pantries and whatever support was available.

The Desire to Heal Others

As I got older, I became deeply aware of the suffering around me—the cycles, the patterns, the endless hospital visits, the pain no one seemed to know how to heal. I wanted desperately to fix it. I carried this vision that if I learned enough, cared enough, tried hard enough, maybe I could make everyone feel better. That desire led me to holistic health, to studying natural ways of living, and to the idea that I could heal the wounds of my family and we could finally be happy together.

But over time, I learned one of the hardest truths of healing: we cannot rescue people from their own journey.

For years I was a towboat—trying to pull everyone with me, frustrated and heartbroken when they wouldn’t come along.

A teaching from Rob Dial shifted everything for me:

"Be a lighthouse, not a towboat.”

Lighthouses don’t drag people to safety. They stand steady, shining, so others can find their way when they’re ready.

Turning the Light Inward

So I stopped trying to heal everyone else. And I started healing myself.

My body was carrying years of trauma—so much that by the age of 12, doctors told me I had degenerative disc disease and would likely face a lifetime of chronic pain. I even began to believe I might end up in a wheelchair. Every flare-up felt terrifying. I didn’t just feel pain—I attached to it, feared it, and convinced myself it would stay forever.

I was in and out of hospitals all the time, and finally reached a point of desperation—longing for anything that might ease my depression and pain. My heart led me to a gathering, and there a friend of mine offered me some spiritual work. It was very new and unfamiliar to me, but again, I was desperate, ready, and fully surrendered to the experience. In that space, I had an awakening, an opening. Years of trauma were finally being released from my body, waves of energy shifting, unraveling, and moving through me in a way that was both intense and unbelievably freeing.

The pain I had been carrying for years released its grip.

Around the same time, as if guided by Divine timing, I stepped into Reiki and yoga teacher training. These practices helped me to integrate my healing in a way that kept me grounded, present, and prevented me from slipping back into old patterns. Reiki attuned me to the energies within and around me, while yoga gave me a doorway back into trust: trust in my body, trust in myself, and trust in my ability to overcome my past. Meditation quieted the fear, and mindfulness softened the edges of old pain.

And over time, slowly and steadily, I healed.

Living Free

Today I live without chronic back pain. I move, dance, breathe, and live freely. If I strain something, it's okay. I give myself grace, learn from it, and take care of myself. I don’t spiral into fear anymore. My body finally feels like a safe place to live.

Healing hasn’t erased my past, but it has transformed the way I live with my suffering. It taught me that darkness is not a place we’re meant to stay—it’s a landscape that shapes us, but it doesn’t define us.

My life is now peaceful (mostly), grounded, and full of purpose. I’ve built something I’m proud of. I’ve created a way of living that honors the little girl I once was—a girl who longed for love, safety, stability, and unity.

Wildflower Wellness was created for exactly that. To offer a space for those who may not have stable or supportive environments, for those who want to integrate practices like yoga, meditation, and energy work into their own lives, and for anyone seeking guidance and support on their personal path. We create spaces where people can come as they are, with all of their thoughts, emotions, and experiences, without judgement or expectation. Spaces where they can ground themselves, move their bodies, meditate, and connect with others on a similar path. A place where the work of healing, reflection, and growth can be done together, in community.

A Message to the Heart

And I share this—not to point fingers, not to reopen wounds, but to hold space for anyone else walking their own path of healing. Because healing is possible. Because we can choose the light, even when we were raised in darkness.

We can build a beautiful life, even when our beginnings were anything but easy.

Sometimes, I reflect on my past and then open my eyes to the world I'm in now. It honestly feels as if I'm living in a dream on some days. My reality in the present moment is so different from my childhood, and I feel immense gratitude for the life I have now. My partner of 8 years has been a huge part of my healing, providing the love and safety I desperately needed as a child. He holds me through my pain and suffering, holding space in a way that allows me to hold myself. He doesn't shut off my crying or suffering; he simply holds space for it. In that space, I've been able to heal, grow, and fully step into the life I was meant to live.

Equally important has been finding supportive communities, where I can show up fully as I am and be accepted, seen, and held. I've discovered multiple spaces where this is possible, and each one has been incredibly healing. To be held by others, to witness others holding space for themselves, has graciously reminded me that we aren't meant to walk our healing journeys alone.

If my story offers anything, I hope it’s a reminder that you are allowed to rise. You are allowed to break the patterns you were born into. And you are allowed to become the lighthouse you were once searching for.

Reflection (Optional)

If you feel called to reflect on your own path after reading, here are a few prompts to support the process:

• What pain are you still holding, and how might you begin to release it gently?

  
  

• Are there ways you can honor your younger self with your adult self today?

  
  

• How can you stand as your own lighthouse—shining steadily, while others navigate their own unique path?

If my story resonated with you, please feel free to like or comment below. I would be delighted to hear from you!

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