I was born in France to a French father and a Tunisian mother, and raised across three countries. From a young age, I lived at the intersection of cultures and traditions. By the time I entered adulthood, I had internalised what it meant to be a “good woman” through the lens of cultural expectation and family loyalty: achieve, succeed, settle down.

So, I became a solicitor. I earned two Master’s degrees. I chased excellence. But truthfully, I pursued law to please my mother—and to fit into the narrow space society carved out for me. In Tunisia, you’re expected to aim for a PhD. I stopped at two Master’s degrees after my mum passed away.

Before her death, my mother made me promise to take care of my three brothers—two younger, one older, but all deeply impacted by grief. My older brother was struggling with heavy depression, and I did what I had seen my mother do: hold everyone together. Out of love, duty, and cultural conditioning, I stepped into her role. I became the emotional anchor and caretaker of my family.

The model of motherhood I had learned—from my mum and from society—was one where there was no space left for the woman herself. In following that model, I slowly lost myself, falling into a deep depression.

In 2014, I made the hardest and most life-saving decision I’d ever made: I moved to Australia. It wasn’t a grand adventure. It was survival.

For years, I stayed in constant motion—surfing, rock climbing, chasing adrenaline—to avoid stillness. Stillness felt dangerous. Until life made me stop. In 2017, I broke my back in a surfing accident. Physical stillness forced emotional and spiritual stillness. I had no choice but to face everything I had buried.

That’s when my real journey began.

I dove deep into meditation. I began accessing the Akashic Records and connecting with spiritual guides. I explored past lives. I sat with my triggers and unravelled my patterns. I learned to hold space for the emotions I had always outrun. I trained in breathwork. I studied the nervous system. I started to remember who I truly was.

And I built my life around it.

Women Make Waves was born from this path—a space to share what I had once needed most: grounded spiritual guidance, emotional tools, nervous system support, and body-based practices that honour both science and spirit.

I later trained in Apnea Survival techniques, becoming an ambassador and integrating surf-inspired breath training and fear mastery into my work. My own injuries—crushed vertebrae, a dislocated shoulder with nerve damage—taught me how to communicate with the body, not override it. They also helped me reconnect with my body after years of dissociation caused by childhood trauma. I had become so accustomed to disconnecting that I could no longer feel pain. Healing required relearning how to feel.

I’ve also navigated burnout, complex grief, identity crisis, and the layered experience of being a high-functioning, undiagnosed neurodivergent woman in systems not built for us. I have a deep understanding of trauma response, emotional regulation, and alternative ways of healing and learning to thrive.

This path isn’t linear. It’s a spiral. And it’s sacred.

Everything I teach, I’ve lived. Every tool I offer has been tested in the fire of my own transformation and confirmed through working with hundreds of women. I don’t believe in quick fixes—I believe in deep, embodied work that brings you home to yourself.

If you’re ready to stop outrunning your fear and start building a relationship with your power, I’m here.