Who I am
This space wasn’t born from a business plan. It was born from a need — to feel safe, seen, and allowed to exist fully.
For most of my life, I tried to fit a mold that never quite fit me back. I was told to dim myself, to choose the sensible path, to not take up too much space. I spent years learning how to be quiet in all the ways that mattered — until the silence began to quietly erase me.
I was so focused on pleasing everyone else until I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was so focused on being proper, on chasing the success defined by society and my family’s expectations that I didn’t realize I was slowly dying.
Through trauma and heartbreak, I kept moving forward. Bottling every emotion I didn’t know how to name, let alone feel. I told myself I was being strong. But the truth was, I was drowning in silence.
But there’s so much you can bury until it explodes in your face. I got to such a low point in my existence that I literally told myself “Either I change my life 360 or I will soon die”. And that was no exaggeration really. That period of my life took me to the point where my gynecologist said that: “Either you make some changes and start taking care of your body, or soon enough you might add another enemy to your list of battles.
So, I left my job, packed my bags, and returned to the city I never stopped mourning.
I had been away for seven long years — not by choice, but by circumstance. Every single day, I missed it like you miss a part of yourself.
Coming back wasn’t a fresh start. It was a homecoming.
The Ember Room rose from those ashes. From the quiet rebellion of saying no more.
No more hiding softness behind sarcasm. No more burying fire just to make others comfortable.
It began as a whisper — what if there was a place where people like me weren’t too much?
What if passion was nurtured, not tamed?
What if healing could be honest, messy, real — not polished and performative?
That whisper became a room. A room where the flames don’t consume — they warm.
A room for the ones who feel too strange, too intense, too tender for this world.
A room for the ones still trying to believe they’re worthy.
This is my offering. My rebellion. My love letter to anyone who ever needed a place to remember who they are.
Welcome home.
Why This Matters to Me
After years of therapy, shadow work, and surviving environments that dimmed my light, I’ve learned this: healing isn’t a finish line — it’s a fire you tend.
And I’ve promised myself to never leave someone standing in the dark if I still have flame to offer.
What I Bring to the Table
I’m a certified personal development coach, accredited by the Ministry of Education in Romania and recognized across the EU.
But that’s not what makes this space powerful.
What I truly bring into The Ember Room is:
🕯️ Years of corporate mentorship in a fast-paced environment;
🪞 A deep understanding of emotional complexity, especially for women, and young adults navigating identity;
🌱 A safe, judgment-free presence for those who need to say the thing they’ve never said aloud;
🎮 A playful mind that sees healing in anime, games, stories, and laughter;
🔥 And an unwavering belief that you are already enough — we’re just peeling back the layers;
How I Work with You
I don’t hand you answers. I ask the kind of questions that reveal your truth.
I don’t give formulas. I create spaces where your inner voice gets louder than the noise.
I won’t promise quick fixes. But I will promise to walk with you — respectfully, honestly, and gently.
This is not coaching with glitter and hype. This is real work, with a real heart.
A bit more about me
🎮 Currently gaming on PS5, healing my inner child
🔮 Witchy at heart, logic in the mind — I love when magic meets clarity
📚 Six years into therapy and proud of it
🐈⬛ Cat mom to my beautiful daughter Luna
♑What can I say, I like shiny things
🌶️Spicy books - ‘nuff said
