Hello, I'm Jeni.
Some people call me Scabs.
(Don't let the weird nickname throw you! It's affectionate, and funny, and completely metaphorical for all we do here at Scabology.)
I help people navigate the rupture of intimate deception, infidelity, and betrayal trauma.
The only way to get unstuck is to reach
Let's move toward what's important to you
You've got untapped wisdom deep in your guts and heart. With my coaching you're going to feel an incredible sense of calm and self-compassion.
I'm going to champion your growth and your wholeness.
You're going to uncover your wisdom and move toward what's important to you. And when you do this, you'll be in absolute awe, because the answers were always inside you.
This is intuitive healing.
Breathe. Practice. Become.
Scabology workshops, coaching, and other events have been developed to complement (not replace) counseling, therapy, psychotherapy, and other mental care modalities. Always consult with your mental and physical health care providers before registering. Wherever you get help, commit to giving yourself the time and space you need to heal.
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 genesis 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, a n y t h i n g..."
I swear it was unconsciously done but, I held out my freshly picked scab and said, "If you eat my scab, I'll forgive you."
This might seem out of line, or cold. And, some may disapprovingly tisk, "This is really harsh".
Well, the truth is, it seems harsh...because it is.
At the moment, this scab-eating-restitution was the only thing that made sense to my broken self.
But...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. She gulped it down.
Since that day, I've honored 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 told this story to the world, more and more people affectionately began calling me 'Scabs'. And, it stuck.