There was a time when I thought sparkle alone could save me.

I wore the lashes, the heels, the smile. I knew how to light up a room, and help people to feel sexy, empowered, and free. And I truly loved that work. But behind the scenes, I was unraveling. The cracks were starting to show. And the pressure of having to shut out and dissociate from my childhood trauma was catching up to me.

For years, I poured my time and energy into everyone else - my students, my children, my partners, my performances. And when I felt the ache of burnout, disconnection, and the trauma trying to resurface. There was no space for me to collapse, so I had to push it away and distract myself in order to forget, and this distraction came in the form of alcohol.

But eventually, it stopped working.

The parties couldn’t distract me from the emptiness. And the woman in the mirror didn’t look like me anymore.

So I did something wild, terrifying, and necessary:
I let it all fall apart.

This is the story of what came next.

Of sobriety. Of pain. Of softness.
Of grief, glitter, and gritty, glorious rebirth.
Of discovering a deeper kind of sexy one rooted in truth, not performance.
Of healing not just for myself, but to walk beside others on this path.

This is my story.
And maybe, in some way… it could be yours too.

ONE DAY? OR DAY ONE?

My life was unravelling and deteriorating slowly, piece by piece, over the years. I was bone-deep tired. My nervous system was fried. I was running on empty. The smallest family stress felt like a tidal wave. I was stuck in a loop of late nights, slow mornings, and a fog I couldn’t escape. And deep down, I knew: it wasn’t just stress or burnout.

It was alcohol.

It had stopped being fun. It had become a way to disappear.

One final bender which ended with me passed out on the couch red lipstick smudged, lashes on, contact lenses still in. And as I slipped into unconsciousness, I thought, Perfect. You feel nothing, you achieved the goal.

That was my rock bottom.

The next day, I stumbled into a doctors waiting room feeling like death warmed up, and saw a man standing at reception with a tattoo on the back of his arm:

ONE DAY
OR
DAY ONE
you decide

That message hit me like a bolt of lightning. I kept hearing it on repeat: one day or day one, you decide. You decide.

I started to realise that I had been living in the echo of an old version of me who built her world around parties and chaos. But I wasn’t her anymore. My body couldn’t carry it. My spirit didn’t want it.

It was time to change everything.

Choosing sobriety wasn’t just about quitting alcohol. It was about reclaiming my worth. Because every time I was hungover I would confirm to myself that:
You’re broken. You don’t deserve a peaceful life. You are a mess and always will be.

That shame seeped into everything: my home was messy, my routines scattered, my health ignored. I believed that healing was for other women.
Better women. Stronger women.
Not me.

But at the same time I knew this HAD to be my Day One.

So I did one of the scariest things I have ever done. I hit the restart button on my entire life.

I walked away from alcohol, from a long-term job, from old social circles, from dating, from the identity I’d worn for 16 years. Lady Lou the burlesque teacher, the party girl, she had to heal and then be released so that another part of me could come through.

I didn’t know what would happen next, and it was bloody terrifying!!

I held my breath, closed my eyes and took the leap, not knowing where or how I would land.

THE TRUTH BENEATH IT ALL

But the real question is… what was behind the drinking?

For over 30 years, I had been disconnecting from a trauma I wasn’t ready to face.

Drinking. Over-giving. Loosing myself in other peoples problems. Filling my calendar with parties and people. These weren’t just habits. They were survival strategies to keep the pain deeply buried where nobody could see it, including me.

If I stayed busy or numb, maybe I wouldn’t have to feel the fear, the sadness, the shame. Maybe I wouldn’t have to remember.

But sobriety lifted the veil. I started seeing things clearly and let me tell you, ufff guurl, it wasn’t pretty.

I saw the ways I had abandoned myself time and time again. The crumbs I accepted in love and friendships. The chaos I called my home. The dreams I sidelined and gave up on.

With the help of therapy, and absorbing knowledge from many amazing books, and 100s of inspiring YouTube videos of brave people talking about how they healed their own trauma. I began to realize I had been living from my wounded inner child the girl who felt safe only when everyone else was happy and the party never ended. Because when the party ended, she feared she’d be left alone and being alone felt dangerous.

But now, with clarity, I can hear myself. And what I hear is:
No.
Enough.
I matter.

I’m no longer the woman who puts herself last.
That’s not love. That’s self-abandonment.

This awakening has been painful, raw, and real.
It’s not tidy.
But it’s honest.

And I see it now...

I can be sparkly and grounded. Eccentric and sober. Wild and worthy.

Sobriety didn’t make me boring. It made me powerful.

NOW WHAT?

Telling my story is part of the healing. But it's not just about me. It’s about us - all the women who have ever felt too much, not enough, too loud, too soft, too sexy, too old, too invisible, too broken.

For over 16 years, I’ve taught burlesque to thousands of women, but the sequins and the heels were never the real point. They were the invitations. The doorway. The glittery Trojan horse that let us sneak past shame and walk right into our power.

Burlesque has been my tool, a playful, potent way to reconnect with our bodies, our sensuality, our confidence, and most importantly, our voice. I've watched women go from hiding to shining. From self-doubt to deep, radiant self-love. I've watched them laugh, cry, shake, release, reclaim and remember who they really are.

And now, as I rise from my own unraveling, I feel even more aligned with the truth behind this work. This isn’t just about movement or confidence tips.
It’s about transformation. It’s about shedding the layers of shame and conditioning that told us we had to be smaller, quieter, easier to love. It’s about moving through the resistance and meeting the radiant, sensual, brilliant woman who’s been waiting inside us all along.

What drives me now is deeper than performance.
It’s the alchemy of embodiment.
The power of joy as rebellion.

The radiance of the soul.
The sacredness of reclaiming your sexy, not for them, but for you.

This is a hero’s journey when we walk together.
Because as I continue to heal, learn, and rise, I want to share everything I’ve gathered with you. Not as someone who has it all figured out, but as someone who’s lived it, is still living it, and believes in the power of doing this together.

So whether you're rebuilding after heartbreak, reclaiming your sensuality, navigating midlife changes, or simply longing to feel beautiful in your skin again,

I see you.

Let’s laugh, cry, dance, and rise together.
With sass. With sparkle. With softness. With fire.

This is our time. And we don’t have to do it alone.

If you're ready to take your own leap into the unknown - welcome.

Let’s find our wings together!