I grew up in a strict Catholic household where tarot was considered negative, even dangerous. I was fascinated by the cards, but for years I believed they were something to fear.
I began with angel and oracle cards because they felt safer. Even then, I kept them hidden in my closet. I reached for them when I needed clarity, but I was embarrassed to let anyone know I was reading cards at all.
Eventually, curiosity became stronger than fear.
When I finally learned what tarot actually was, everything I had assumed about it began to change. I discovered that the cards were not predicting a fixed future or handing me instructions. They were reflecting what was already happening in my life: the patterns I was repeating, the feelings I had not fully acknowledged, and the things I knew but had not yet put into words.
Tarot became one of the tools that helped me slow the mental spiral, see what was really happening, and listen to my own voice.
Now I teach tarot the way I learned to understand it: look at the card first, notice what stands out, connect it to real life, and bring in the traditional meaning afterward. When a card connects to your own experience, it becomes easier to understand, remember, and trust.
The people I work with are tired of overthinking and second-guessing themselves. They know they're intuitive, but have a hard time trusting what they hear. They come to tarot wanting to learn the cards. Along the way, they begin to trust themselves.
That is the work we do together inside this mentorship.