In 2016, I discovered that the invisible kryptonite that had dragged down my health (and compelled me to be impeccably careful about healthy living) was a genetic inability to clear modern mold toxins from my body. My health collapsed catastrophically in December 2015 and I spent 2 years in survival mode, clawing my way back to the land of the living. Regaining my health has required a commitment to give up everything. Somehow my willingness to do that has led to a better way of living, with less suffering.

In retrospect, I can tell when my genes got activated. I was 17 when I lived in a damp basement. I developed asthma and a new allergy to cats. It was 1987. I traveled around the world for 6 years in my 20s, just soldiering through when I got sick so much more often than my friends.

When I returned to the United States, we settled in Maine. We bought a house that had not been well built, and I was sick for 7 of the 9 years we lived there. In 2005, we had a leak and I got a clue when a Stachybotrys black mold patch the size of my hand completely decimated my health temporarily. In those days, you couldn’t test your own DNA or the DNA of the mold in your environment. I tried to shore up my health using every possible dietary and lifestyle approach. I became a health counselor in 2007 after it became my expertise. I still wasn’t aware that I was being poisoned by my environment.

I had a brief reprieve with my health once I got divorced and moved out of the problematic house in 2009. I decided to go back to school so that I could combine what I had learned as a Holistic Health and Nutrition Counselor with the skills of a licensed mental health therapist. I got my Masters in Social Work in 2015. Hooray! I got my license. I moved into a new house. I got a job. Then I got really sick. Like, couldn’t get out of bed, wanting to die sick.

Against my will, I then went to “Mold Avoidance University.” It has worked, for the most part, to restore my life force and resilience. It was the piece I had been missing all along. Now that I know what was wrong all those years, I finally have the chance to really heal.

Three years after the catastrophic fall, I am finally ready to start being of service.

Here is my Resume.

Here is my story.

When I started this blog, I called it MoldCanary. After a while, I changed it to MoldPhoenix because I identified more with a powerful creature emerging out of the ashes than I did with a sensitive bird that’s waiting to die. This sense of power came out of humbleness, not from conquering. It has felt like dissolving into the flight that I was meant to be all along.

If you would like to schedule a free 30 minute conversation with me to find out if I can be part of your healing team, contact me here.