You know too much to go back.

This is the place you unlearn the lie.

Enter the Work

You’ve followed the script long enough.

... The one that told you to be palatable.

Productive.

Performative.

Nice.

The one that suppressed your feminine fire and said you were "not good enough" or "way too much".

But your body never bought the lie.

She’s been singing beneath the noise—
Waiting for you to hear her again.

I'm AmyJo,

Nature-led Creatress and Sacred Disruptor.

I’m not here to fix you.

I’m here to midwife the memory already stirring in your cells.

This isn't coaching as you know it.

It’s co-creation with the field.

A rewiring of the nervous system and programs.

A return to the rhythm you danced before the forgetting.

This isn’t a brand... It’s a re-membering

You’ll feel it in your bones if this is for you:

You’re done performing power—
you want to embody it
You feel the tug in your womb-heart when something is real
You crave something ancient in your bones— even if you don’t have the language for it yet.
You know healing isn’t enough—
it’s time to fully remember
You’ve outgrown the gurus,
and you’re ready to listen to Nature and your body wisdom as guides.

You don’t need another method.

You need a mirror that doesn’t flinch.

You need to be met beneath the effort to stay composed.

If you’re here, it’s because something in you remembers.

Not the "brand of you". Not the persona on the surface. The deep rhythm underneath the performance. That pulse you’ve been ignoring—that ache in your womb or the static in your chest—it’s not pathology.

It’s guidance.

It’s life calling you back to coherence.

It doesn’t speak in formulas or polite mantras. It speaks in instinct, in rupture, in the quiet certainty that you were never meant to live this way.

This work doesn’t hand you power.

It reminds you where you buried it.

It walks with you—bloody-knuckled, bare-souled—until you’re strong enough to carry all of you and remember who you are again.

REMIND ME.

I wasn’t born for conformity.

I came in as One who couldn’t be tamed—

Not by white coats.

Not by religion or spiritual trends.

Not by political correctness or being shamed.

Not by systems that profit off your pain and call it empowerment.

My path home was messy.

Marked by stillbirth.

Rage.

Fractures.

Radical honesty.

And the deep cellular ache to remember what I never should’ve forgotten.

I walked away from business-as-usual.

I burned every blueprint that didn’t match my bones.

I bowed to the feminine fire that burned me clean.

I StudieD All The Things to Find my home...

Quantum structure, nervous system mapping, wealth creation, cyclical wisdom, womb awakening, sexuality, nutrition, birth, permaculture, beekeeping, and the medicine of the land.

I cherish the mentorship and wisdom I've foraged, but no certificate gave me what tending to grief and remembrance has birthed:

A body that’s come home to itself.