Welcome!

Hey! I’m Courtney. I’m a writer, coach and motivational speaker deeply dedicated to helping you think positive in the midst of major life transitions – no matter what hand you’re dealt.

Even if those hands are paralyzed like mine.

I have a story — a scary, devastating, hopeful, incredible, inspirational, supergirl strong story. And I share my experiences, empathy, and outlook to change lives… and even save a few.

My message is about so much more than my physical recovery from neck down paralysis and autoimmune. It’s about how to heal as a whole person… slowly. And all the small things you can do to build up your resilience and get yourself out of there, the bad place, when you feel lost.

I understand loss.  At 33 I was paralyzed from the neck down from an autoimmune disorder that sounds a lot like a police department, called CIDP.

I lost my relationship, home, savings, job, moved away from my circle of friends, and lost my ability to take care of myself — ALL AT ONCE.

Before I got paralyzed, I thought I was doing everything right. I ate plant-based and all organic. Meditated, practiced yoga, and traveled often. I had a great circle of friends, a wonderful family, and an awesome job.

I LOVED MY LIFE.

And then little by little, I lost it all. I declined for almost 12 months without any improvement. I tried everything to get better. No really… EVERYTHING.

On December 20th, 2017 — I was discharged from the hospital and the doctor said there was nothing else they could do. I was paralyzed from the neck down, having trouble breathing, swallowing, and speaking.

I was exhausted, frustrated, and confused why I wasn’t getting better. So I took a serious look at my life and cut ties with anything causing me emotional or physical stress — even the people, things, and places I loved most — and once I said good bye and let go of the final string to my “old life,”  I started improving two days later.

Diet, exercise, and meditation isn’t everything. By getting rid of the stressors in my life causing inflammatory emotions I truly started to heal.

I spent 2 months without a voice, 4 months paralyzed from the neck down, 7 months in a wheelchair unable to walk or stand, 12 months unable to dress or wipe myself in the bathroom, 120 days and nights in hospitals and nursing homes, and almost 3 years living with my parents under their care in “quarantine.”

I thought If I could just get through the physical part of recovery as much is possible, everything would be back to normal and it would be all rainbows and unicorns and better than before, because of my experience — but instead, life just felt on hold. I was suddenly a misfit in society and in my own life. Lost in transition and scared my life would never be as good as it was before.

But the thought that I would lose my early thirties and years of my life “getting through them” on top of everything else I lost made me sad. So I made the decision to love the wheelchair and nursing home chapter of my life, just as much as the last and the next.

I CHOSE to be happy.

I started exploring ways to love my life unconditionally and live my life to the fullest — even when it wasn’t the life I wanted.

When I lost my voice, because my throat was partially paralyzed, and I lost my hands, because my whole body was paralyzed — I wrote on my phone and started making and editing videos of my emotional and physical transformation using my nose on the keypad.

Before I could put on my own shoes, I went to Mexico — twice — and as soon as my hands were strong enough to tie my own shoelaces, I was hanging off the back of an ATV, off roading through the jungle of Costa Rica.

I spent 21 days traveling through Guatemala solo to learn yoga before I could stand on one foot (or brush my own hair), and before I could even drive a car, I found myself boating in the pacific.

I spent 21 days backpacking through Morocco, before I could close my own suitcase — and before I could run, I booked a flight to Spain to go on the 500 mile hike that had been collecting dust at the top of my bucket list for far too long.

Then I did it. Travel has been so healing for me, which is one of the many reasons I love creating retreats for others today.

Sharing my story online has also been really healing and it’s helped me attract my tribe and find purpose in my pain.

The first time someone asked me, “how do you stay so positive?” I genuinely didn’t know the answer. I actually woke up every morning for a long time waiting for the day depression slapped me in the face and it never happened.

By speaking with and teaching people the past two years how to reframe the way they see their life — I’ve had to dissect what I’ve done and figure out WHY and HOW I stayed positive after the life I LOVED completely fell apart.

Today I still have to drink with two hands, walk like a dog in socks, wear an ankle brace that looks like I just escaped house arrest, and when I get ready in the morning it sounds like a possum in a trashcan — but I’m happy.

There’s so many things other people can do that I can’t, because of my disability — BUT there are so many things I can do others can’t, BECAUSE of my disability.

I have the credentials I never wanted, but now it’s my job to give hope to the hopeless, encourage the discouraged, and enable the disabled.

You don’t have to change your circumstances to change your life. It’s changing the way you SEE your life and yourself that gives you a new reality.

The real power is within us. It is on the inside. The kind of strength that no person or illness can take from you. Hope, will, happiness, and love — these are our real muscles.

So much can happen in a year and you never know when life will pull the rug out from under you, crippling you to your knees.

A traumatic event in life is like a scratch on a record. Every time the record player (or your mind) runs over the scratch, it skips, and until you are able to fill the scratch, it keeps skipping.

When the time comes and you get to the point you’re sick of hearing the same skipping song  in your head — I’d love to teach you new lyrics.

I’ll pick you up when you’re low, make you laugh when you want to cry, make you cry when you didn’t think you needed to, and give you inspiration when it’s lacking.

My road has been tough, but I’ll give you my roadmap to finding joy in your pain. The road doesn’t end just because you hit a pot hole, and life doesn’t after an injury, diagnosis, or trauma. Your body might give up, but your spirit never will.

And you’re not alone.

If life is beating you down hard and starting to change you as a person into someone you don’t even recognize — I have a safe space for you to come and grieve with a tribe of people who understand. There is beauty in vulnerability. I want to inspire you to start talking and sharing your story.

To not be afraid. To make new friends and not only find yourself, but also where you want to go.

You can do this. You can do hard things. You’re courageous. You’re brave enough to find joy. Having a positive attitude through deep struggles may seem super human, but it lives in all of us. You just need to make the choice to access it.

If you’re ready, let’s chat.

Courtney