I’m Kacey.

For a long time, I didn’t want to be in my body.

It felt unsafe. Loud. Numb. Too much. Not enough. I lived with anxiety, addiction, and deep disconnection, and I didn’t know another way. I just knew I couldn’t feel what was inside me. So I found ways to escape. Ways to stay busy. Ways to go quiet. Ways to disappear.

Addiction wasn’t the problem.
It was the coping.
It was the thing that helped me not fall apart.

Underneath it all, I was terrified to feel.
Because I didn’t trust that I could.
That if I stopped running, I wouldn’t collapse.

Recovery didn’t save me.
It stripped me down.

It forced me to face everything I’d avoided. It was lonely. It was raw. I didn’t feel whole. I felt broken and exposed. And still, I stayed. I kept going.

Then I found breathwork.

Not as a technique. Not as a trend. Just one moment. One inhale that didn’t hurt. One exhale where I didn’t have to brace. I didn’t even realise how long I’d been holding everything in.

We live in a world where most of us have forgotten how to breathe.
We breathe just enough to survive, but not enough to feel.

Not enough to soften. Not enough to connect.
And we don’t even realise it until the moment we do.

Breathwork gave me something I never expected.
It gave me back me.

As I began learning how to stay in my body, I also discovered the quiet power of essential oils. At first, they were a gentle support. Something grounding when my nervous system felt overwhelmed. A scent that helped me feel safe enough to stay present. Safe enough to breathe.

I began using doTERRA essential oils intentionally alongside my breath. Not to fix anything, but to support regulation, embodiment, and emotional safety. The oils helped anchor me when my mind was loud. They softened my edges when my body wanted to flee. They became a sensory bridge back into myself when words couldn’t reach.

Piece by piece, breath helped me come home.
And the oils supported that return.

Together, they softened the noise. Created space where there had only been pressure. Brought calm to places that had been in chaos for years. Offered grounding when I felt untethered. Clarity when my thoughts wouldn’t slow. A sense of safety I didn’t know how to access on my own.

Breath taught me how to stay in my body, not as a punishment, but as a place I could live. The oils reminded my nervous system that it was safe to do so.

I began to understand that my body wasn’t the enemy.
It was asking for support.

And I realised I wasn’t broken.

I was healing. Slowly. Gently. Truthfully.

Now I hold space for others who feel the way I once did. For those who are tired of running, but scared to stop. Who want to feel, to remember, to return, but don’t know how. People who crave peace but don’t yet know what it feels like in their body. Who long to feel safe, but have never known what that truly means.

And I also hold space for those who are ready to expand. Who may no longer be in crisis, but feel called toward something deeper. More clarity. More alignment. More presence. More capacity to lead, create, and live fully connected to themselves. People who know there is more, not through striving, but through softening. Through breath. Through stillness. Through truth.

In the spaces I hold, breath is the foundation. Essential oils are a supportive layer, working gently with the senses to help the body feel safe enough to let go. Together, they support nervous system regulation, embodiment, and deeper connection, meeting each person exactly where they are.

I hold space for those who are quietly breaking, and for those quietly rising. For the ones just beginning to feel, and the ones ready to go further. For anyone willing to meet themselves honestly, not to be fixed, but to be witnessed. Held. Remembered.

Because the breath doesn’t care where you’re at in your journey.
It only asks that you begin.

I’m not here to fix you.
I’m here to sit beside you.
To breathe with you.
To remind you that it’s safe to come back.

That your body is not the enemy.
That your breath is not broken.
That you don’t have to hold it all alone anymore.

This work is about truth.
About presence.
And about finding the part of you that was never lost, just waiting to be felt.

One breath at a time.