Hello, I'm Jeni.
My nickname is Scabs.
I help people navigate intimate deception, infidelity, betrayal, and trauma.
Whether you decide to stay, leave, or observe in limbo, there is a path that leads to calm.
During our discovery session you'll experience how cool coaching can be! We'll pinpoint your desires, and uncover your roadmap for getting there. You'll walk away from our connection with a fresh outlook and personalized steps to move you toward what's important to you.
Both online and in person sessions available.
Move toward what's important to you.
I'm a trauma informed resiliency, meditation, and movement coach.
Maybe it's a sudden discovery or relentless stress over time,
intimate deception and infidelity feels as if the world has dropped out from underneath you.
Body intelligence, balance, and wisdom are key to healing.
I champion your light.
All you need to feel whole is already part of you.
Let's uncover your wisdom.
Breathe. Practice. Become.
Manifesto. Creed. Declaration.
1. Scabology is all about expansion. Practice, be curious, learn, fail, soul, guts, change your mind, change your actions, learn some more, and then practice it all over again. This is the formula. Expansion is everything. To find an answer --- keep walking and it will come to you.
2. I reverence Intimacy, closeness, and connection. Deceit, betrayal, infidelity, and porn don't do it for me. Equal partnerships, loyalty, kindness, and warmth do.
3. Scabs heal. Like Mother Nature and her scabs, I encourage healing.
4. I honor messy hair and messy hearts. There's something about life's messes and imperfections that breaks down our inner stories and gives us the chance to realign with our personal compass. Our 'brokenness' often fuels our growth. This is the place where we become powerful agents of change and influence.
5. Tacos are important. I'm always on the look-out for the tastiest taco shops in town.
6. Your squad, tribe, or small gang are irreplaceable. Trustworthy BFF's, grandmothers, sisters, childhood friends, your cat, your dog, John, Paul, George, and Ringo--we need them.
7. Being human is imperfectly normal. Human is what we are. We're imperfect, rowdy, shameless, compassionate, whole-hearted, divine, and full of goodness.
8. Body, mind, and heart. They say, mindfulness heals trauma. Your body, mind, and heart are a creative team that when balanced, seek to uncover healing, wisdom, and joyfulness. If you're like me, you're asking, "Who's 'they' ?" Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk, known for his research in the area of trauma.
9. Spirit, Soul, Universe, God. Lean into the the Sacred, listen, believe, doubt, and question. I pray and I always seek. My heart is shape-shifting and unfolding --- with that energy, I get to work. The more we learn, the more we realize there is to uncover. It's expansive. Which makes sense, because, after all, expansion is everything.
Scabs is my nickname,
it's also Mother Nature's band-aid.
There's just no pretty way to tell the origin story of my nickname, but, some people are curious, so here it is:
This true story is a bit raw, a bit scabby, and a bit hilarious, so, if you're looking for unicorns or glitter, go no further.
Many years ago, i uncovered the ugly truth that I was not the only woman to share my husband's bed. There were many others. This betrayal gutted me. I questioned my ability to love, my bra size, my children's future, whether sex/porn addiction was a real thing, but most of all I wondered if I'd ever be able to breathe again.
Finally, with a shattered heart, I pointed to the door. I needed separation and I needed to think. He moved out, but he'd often come back to the house. He'd knock on the door and say 'sorry' and when he did, sometimes we'd talk and try to untangle ourselves from the enormous mess.
One of these times, I began to thoughtlessly pick at the edge of a scab on my shin. A few weeks earlier I'd fallen and scraped a long half inch wide piece of skin from my leg. The crust had healed and was now starting to peel.
Just as the scab came loose I heard my estranged husband say, "I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness, anything..."
I held out my freshly picked scab and said, "If you eat my scab, I'll forgive you."
At the moment, this scab-eating-restitution was the only thing that made sense. And there's no excuse, it sounds harsh, because it is.
Just as he reached out to take the scabby communion, our lady dog jumped up and snatched the tawny colored crust of skin. She ate it.
Since that day, I honor my promise, and have forgiven Lady dog for any of her mis-steps.
This is my genesis, my rupture, my falling apart, and where all the unfolding really began.
As I began telling this story, more and more women affectionately began calling me 'Scabs'. And, it stuck.