How I Found My Way to Utah (and Back to Myself)
If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be living in Utah—sharing morning coffee with women who’ve become my close friends and housemates, skiing through the winter, camping and backpacking in the summer, and laughing about our Hinge adventures—I probably would’ve smiled politely and thought, there’s no way.
But life has a funny way of unfolding when you start listening to your heart.
This part of my story began back in 2017, long before I ever packed a moving truck. I started meditating when my daughter moved to Utah for college — I had to find a way to let her go and not cling to her or my role as “Mom” for my sense of happiness. My son was a senior in high school then, and the empty nest was fast approaching. Letting him go would be equally hard. I got curious, so I started with just ten minutes a day on the Calm app. Before I knew it, the traffic jam in my brain began to ease. I had no idea that such a small act would change everything. Meditation became my medication — a doorway back to myself. It quieted my mind, helped me connect with a deeper part of who I am, and brought moments of clarity I didn’t know I was missing. I began to feel the parts of me that were hurting, to notice the ways I’d been abandoning myself, and to sense a deep longing for something more peaceful and true.
Over time, that practice helped me begin to heal old wounds I’d carried since childhood. It gave me the courage to face truths I had ignored for too long — including the realization that my marriage, though it had lasted decades, was no longer a place where I could be myself, flourish, or grow. Transitioning that family unit was gut-wrenching. It felt like everything I had worked so hard to create was dissolving. Yet even through the heartbreak, something inside me whispered: You will be okay. This is more authentic. Stay connected to your heart and trust the process.
Six months before I moved to Utah, I took a “sample trip” to see what life might feel like here. The night I arrived, I went straight to a dinner at my daughter’s house — hosted by her and her roommates for the moms. Around that table, I met women who would soon become my roommates: my daily companions in morning coffee and tea, mountain adventures, backyard gardening, and countless heart-to-heart conversations.
That night, as we got to know each other, we quickly discovered something uncanny—three of us were not only recently divorced, but had each been married to men named Mark for over twenty-five years. It was unreal. We all just stared at each other… and then burst out laughing.
In that moment, I knew something greater was happening. My “part two” became visible—the light at the end of the tunnel was finally in front of me.
Though our friendships were brand new, they were already meaningful and life-giving. I left that night filled with hope for the new beginning I had been seeking.
That visit planted the seeds of curiosity, possibility, and courage—the very qualities that meditation had been awakening in me for years. And today, living among these women, sharing both adventure and the ordinary, I feel held, supported, and more aligned with my heart than ever.
Moving here wasn’t about running away from my past—it was about taking a giant leap toward a more purposeful, heart-led life. It’s what I now help others do through my coaching work: pause long enough to listen, notice where they’re stuck, and find the courage to follow what feels true.
This blog, Head to Heart, is an invitation—to myself and to you.
To keep showing up with curiosity.
To trust the quiet nudges.
To live a life that feels aligned from the inside out.
So wherever you’re reading this from—Traverse City, Utah, or somewhere in between—take a breath, listen inward, and ask yourself
What might happen if I trusted my heart a little more?
