Healing is Not Linear: The Ongoing Journey of Mental Health
Why the work continues, even when life seems ‘perfect’—and how embracing every part of yourself leads to true strength.
“In pain's embrace, evolution finds its voice.”
Though today is the day after World Mental Health Day, I believe mental health deserves to be honored every day. We don’t get to choose when mental health struggles arise, so why should we only acknowledge them on a single day?
I’ve been open about my mental health journey for years. I first shared my struggles with depression back in 2017, on Instagram of all places—probably not the best platform for vulnerability, but it felt right at the time. Since then, though, I’ve kept this part of me a little quieter. One reason is that I appear “healed” and happy on the outside. And two, I grew tired of being praised for my pain—a narrative that unintentionally fueled much of my success in my 20s.
While I am certainly happy and living a life that’s vibrant and abundant, I still, of course, have my moments. Especially now that I’ve taken full ownership of my brand and am leaning into building this business. It’s terrifying, and I doubt myself constantly. But here’s where the magic lies—I’ve always known that my gift is in making others feel less alone. Through my teachings, both yoga and strength, vulnerability flows from me with ease. Sharing from a place of strength has always been my way of creating safety for others, helping them dive deeper into their own experiences.
But lately, I’ve shared less about my ongoing mental health journey. Maybe it’s because, from the outside, it seems like I’ve "made it to the other side." Yes, I’ve survived my own dark night of the soul, but the truth is—the work never really ends. I’ve achieved so many things I thought would bring happiness: success, money, love, community. And yet, even with all of that, there’s still an undercurrent of doubt, because those things alone don’t make us happy. True joy comes from believing in our self-worth.
My first real lesson in this came at the end of 2020. Despite managing my depression and anxiety for years, I was still avoiding my deepest feelings with work. Fitness became a way out of my head and into my body—it was my salvation during a time when I was working as a bottle waitress at NYU. The gym and yoga studio were my escapes, and from there, everything snowballed. I fell into a career in fitness, not consciously choosing it, but following where it led. Soon, I was prepping for bikini competitions, signed with bodybuilding.com, and teaching group fitness classes. Then, Nike found me, and my career took off like wildfire. It all felt effortless, like it was predestined, but what no one saw was that all this success kept me from facing my inner struggles.
Fast forward to a few years later: I had a full-time job at MIRROR, was engaged to another fitness instructor, and life seemed “perfect.” But mentally, I was still struggling, burying it all beneath work and the illusion of success. Then came the pandemic—a wake-up call for the world and, most of all, for me. There was no more hiding. I had to face myself, my patterns, and my pain.
To make a long story short (the full version will be in my book…), by the end of 2020, my relationship had ended, I had left my job, and my career seemed uncertain. I found myself single, unemployed, and utterly lost during a cold NYC winter, alone in my apartment, quarantined and overwhelmed by panic attacks. Eventually, it got so bad that I was given an intervention at my acupuncturist's office. I was told to choose: either check myself into an inpatient treatment facility or go to the hospital that day. After hours of research, I found a facility and committed to a month-long program in Malibu.
That moment—deciding to enter treatment—was terrifying, but it was also the most courageous decision of my life. It wasn’t where I "fixed" myself, but it gave me space to lay out my darkness and face it head-on. Since then, I’ve worked with plant medicine and psychedelics to gain more clarity, but none of those were the magic solution. The real work happens in everyday life—showing up for myself, continuing to heal, and being gentle with the process.
Four years later, I’m still doing the work. I’ve moved from NYC to LA, found my soul family, traveled the world, taught thousands of clients, fallen in love again, and gotten my heart broken again. I’ve experienced growth beyond what I ever imagined. And yet, I still have moments of doubt and sadness. But what’s changed is how I handle them. Instead of seeing obstacles as roadblocks, I now see them as part of the way forward. I honor my feelings and let them move through me. You can’t heal if you keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.
My therapist told me something shortly after I left treatment that I’ll never forget: “You can’t unlearn this work.” Even when you feel like you’ve fallen back into depression, anxiety, or panic, you now have tools that will help you rise quicker than before. Each time you face these challenges, you become stronger, not because you’ve avoided pain but because you’ve learned how to navigate it.
It’s okay not to be okay. In fact, being okay with not being okay is the truest sign of strength. This process isn’t linear—it’s layered, and every “not okay” moment allows you to dive deeper into your resilience.
As Rumi says, “Let silence take you to the core of life.” He’s not suggesting we retreat into complete stillness but that we quiet the noise of the outside world and turn inward. It’s there, in the silence, that we meet our truest selves. And that’s where the real healing begins.