The Power of Personal Style:
My "No BS" Journey to Authentic Self-Expression
You probably don’t know much about me because I live a relatively private life. I’m not an oversharer on social media, but to understand why I left medicine to pursue styling, I need to give you some context.
I spent years immersed in the world of medicine. I worked as a medical assistant, a clinical analyst, and eventually, a physician assistant. Each role demanded precision, compassion, and an emotional resilience I wasn’t always sure I possessed. Then, I became a mother, and the balancing act grew even more complex. The endless cycle of caregiving, decision-making, and emotional labor began to take its toll. Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing myself clearly. I wasn’t just exhausted, I was disappearing.
I didn’t grow up thinking I’d work in medicine.
The decision was almost reflexive. In my late teens and early twenties, I lived in the fine arts world. I was a choreographer, loved set design, and had a hankering for theatrical performances. But it wasn’t the healthiest time of my life. As a dancer, I became consumed by calorie counting and other unhealthy habits to keep my weight low for performances. Dance fueled my creativity, but it also amplified my self-consciousness. After college, like many lionhearted idealists, I went soul-searching. I didn’t have health insurance, worked multiple jobs, and tried my luck in New York City.
Millions of people, constant overstimulation, living paycheck to paycheck, and no savings in the bank.
In the “city that never sleeps”, I craved stability, SLEEP, and a healthier lifestyle. Suddenly, reality started to sink and I abruptly came to the realization that I wanted (and needed) a predictable paycheck and a sense of security. One thing led to another (as it typically does) and I found myself on a path toward the medical field, climbing the ladder from medical assistant to physician assistant.
I realized I needed something to pull me back, to remind me of who I was outside the roles I played for others. That’s when I turned to fashion-not as an escape, but as a way to rediscover and reclaim my identity. Clothes had always been a part of my story, a way I expressed my creativity and individuality. Now, they became my roadmap back to myself.
Fast-forwarding a bit…
I spent years immersed in the world of medicine. I worked as a medical assistant, a clinical analyst, and eventually a physician assistant. Each role demanded precision, compassion, and an emotional resilience I wasn’t always sure I possessed. Then I became a mother, and the balancing act grew even more complex. The endless cycle of caregiving, decision-making, and emotional labor began to take its toll. Somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing myself clearly. I was bone-deep exhausted, and I felt like I was disappearing.
I realized I needed something to pull me back, to remind me of who I was outside the roles I played for others. Like a snake shedding its skin multiple times a year, I had to let go of the layers that no longer served me and step into something new and truer to myself. That’s when I turned to fashion-not as an escape, but as a way to rediscover and reclaim my identity. Clothes had always been a part of my story, a way I expressed my creativity and individuality. Now, they became my roadmap back to myself. Fashion isn’t just about looking good. It’s about feeling aligned with who you are. That’s what I want to share with you.
What happened to my closet?!
There was a time when my wardrobe felt like an extension of who I was. It was filled with pieces that carried stories, colors that made me feel alive, and thrifted items that told the stories of others. I loved putting together outfits that made people stop and smile, or sometimes scratch their heads. I didn’t dress for anyone else’s expectations. I dressed because it made me feel alive, dynamic, and completely myself.
But life has a way of shifting priorities. When I became a parent and threw myself into clinical studies, things changed. My mornings became more about efficiency than creativity. The vibrant colors and daring combinations slowly gave way to neutrals and oversized pieces that didn’t ask much of me. At first, I thought it was just part of growing up, settling into a more “mature” style.
Over time, I started to notice something deeper. I wasn’t just changing my clothes. I was losing touch with myself.
One day, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back. My wardrobe had become a sea of blacks, beiges, and grays, clothes that hid more than they revealed. I realized I had been dressing to blend in, to disappear. The vibrancy and individuality I once loved in myself had faded, buried under the weight of practicality and self-neglect. It hit me. I wasn’t just hiding my body. I was hiding my feelings and my authentic self.
Rediscovering my sense of style and my sense of self wasn’t something that happened overnight. It took time to peel back the layers and remember what made me feel like me. Fashion became more than just clothes again. It became a way to reconnect with who I was and who I wanted to be. It reminded me that the way we dress isn’t just about looking good. It’s about feeling right in our own skin.
The intersection of fashion and identity starts with a conversation…
Our clothing speaks long before we do. It tells the world a story about who we are, what we value, and how we see ourselves. A sharply tailored suit might convey precision and control, while a relaxed moto-boho outfit might suggest a free spirit with some sass and edge. These choices aren’t random. They reflect the mental picture we have of ourselves and the version of that picture we want others to see.
For years, my mental picture of myself didn’t match the clothes I was wearing. The disconnect created a tension I didn’t fully understand until I started paying attention. Fashion became the bridge between the self I was hiding and the self I wanted to reclaim. Clothes, I realized, aren’t just a reflection of identity. They’re also a way to explore it.
Teenagers know this instinctively. Think of the phases they go through: punk, preppy, sporty, as they try on different identities. But adults do this too, often during major transitions like starting a new job, becoming a parent, or moving to a new city. Fashion becomes a canvas for self-discovery. What you wear can help you experiment with who you are and who you’re becoming.
Mental health + clothes:
The connection between clothing and mood is real. Research shows that wearing certain colors can boost your energy, while others promote calm. The feel of a fabric or the fit of a garment can change your whole day (who doesn’t love the texture of cashmere, amiright?!). A well-worn vintage t-shirt might provide comfort during stressful times, while a structured jacket can help you feel more put-together and capable.
Dressing with intention can become a form of self-care. It starts with paying attention to how different outfits make you feel. Does that bright blouse spark confidence? Do those snug jeans make you fidget? These small cues can guide you toward choices that align with your emotional needs.
I’ve seen this firsthand with clients who felt stuck. One woman, stuck in a cycle of athleisure wear and messy buns no matter the event or occasion, started experimenting with color after I encouraged her to try a bold accessory. A vintage python print belt became her gateway to rediscovering joy in her wardrobe. Although it was a small adjustment, it added a certain je ne sais quoi to her outfit. Each small step, one piece at a time, helped her rebuild confidence, not just in her style but in herself.
I am aware of trends but don’t feel obligated to incessantly chase them.
It’s easy to fall into the trap of trends, chasing what’s “in” rather than what’s true to you. But authenticity in style isn’t about following rules. What feels like home when you put it on? What makes you feel seen, not just by others but by yourself?
Start by noticing what you’re drawn to, even if it’s unconventional. Maybe it’s a love of animal prints or an affinity for vintage pieces. Create a mood board of outfits on Pinterest that inspire you and look for patterns. These clues can help you build a wardrobe that feels authentic, not performative.
When you dress authentically, you’re telling yourself that you’re enough. You’re honoring who you are, not who you think you’re supposed to be. And that kind of self-acceptance is powerful.
The societal influence of fashion (and yes, TikTok has catapulted this into another dimension).
Fashion doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s shaped by culture, history, and social norms. For decades, these influences dictated narrow ideas about what people could or should wear. Gender, body type, and social status often defined what was acceptable.
Thankfully, the world is rapidly changing to shift away from that mindset, and movements like body positivity and sustainable fashion are challenging old norms and celebrating diversity. The rise of gender-neutral fashion, for example, is a powerful reminder that style is about expression, not limitation. These shifts invite us to think about fashion as a space for inclusion, not exclusion.
At the same time, it’s worth reflecting on how these societal forces influence our own choices. Are you dressing in a way that feels true to you, or are you following someone else’s script? Breaking free from these constraints can be liberating and deeply affirming.
Crafting a wardrobe that screams you.
Building a wardrobe that reflects your identity and values doesn’t happen overnight. It starts with intention. Go through your closet and ask yourself, “Does this piece represent who I am today?” Let go of what doesn’t serve you and make room for pieces that do. When you dress in a way that feels authentic, it doesn’t just change how you see yourself. It changes how others see you, too. Confidence is contagious, so when you feel good in your clothes, it radiates outward, influencing your relationships and interactions.
So in a nutshell, that’s the backlog of why I’m a stylist with a medical degree. My journey from the arts to medicine and finally to fashion has taught me that what we wear is so much more than fabric. I’m focused on identity, connection, and reclaiming who we are when life pulls us in a thousand directions. Clothing can empower us, ground us, and reflect our truest selves.
That’s why I’m offering something new in 2025. If you’re ready to change your relationship with style and use it as a tool for confidence and self-discovery, I’d love to help. Here’s how you can work with me:
Basic ($20/month): Access to resources, group challenges, and community discussions.
Premium ($50/month): Includes live group coaching sessions and deeper resources.
VIP ($200/month): Adds 1:1 coaching calls or style consultations. With my clinical background and additional coaching certifications, this option provides the most bang for your buck.
Want to learn more? Email me! I’d love to hear your story and help you on your journey to finding a style that feels like home.