Nadja is my birth name, but my Colombian family has always called me Naya, a name rooted in memory, warmth, and a quiet kind of strength.
It’s the one that feels like home.
I lovingly answer to both. My European roots know me as Nadja, and my Latin roots feel me as Naya. Whichever you choose, you’re speaking to all of me.
My lineage is a blend of deep cultural wisdom: Colombian, French and Vietnamese. I speak multiple languages and carry a heart shaped by many lands but my story begins in the ache of early loss.
When I was eight, my mother passed away. I left the U.S., where I was born, and moved to France, my second home, to live with her family. France and Vietnam live in my bones, but so did a silence that followed her absence.
In my late teens, I returned to the U.S. to live with a father I barely knew. I didn’t speak the language. I didn’t know how to belong.
That’s when survival mode became my operating system, not just the classic trauma responses (fight, flight, freeze, fawn), but a full identity built on proving, performing, and enduring.
I got the job. The apartment. The car.
I had people who loved me. I “made it.” But the truth?
I was unraveling inside.
Chronic stress was silently eroding me.
Candida, SIBO, leaky gut.
Neck pain. Back pain. Burnout. Emotional numbness.
Even with all I had studied, my healing couldn’t fully take root until I did one thing I had always avoided:
Slowing down.
Since 2011, I’ve studied many paths: Reiki Master, meditation guide, breathwork facilitator, functional wellness coach, life coach, peer counselor, herbal student. I’ve trained in subconscious reprogramming through NLP and CBT.
But more than all the titles, it’s my lived experience that brought me here.
Because I know what it’s like to feel invisible inside your own life.
Because I know what it’s like to do everything “right” and still feel empty.
Because I know the ache of holding it all together for too long.
Now, I walk with women like you
Women who are tired of living in survival mode.
Women who are ready to reconnect with their bodies, their breath, and their true inner voice.
My path has also led me back to sacred medicine, not as a shortcut or escape, but as a remembrance of my roots.
This is how I honor the lineage I come from.
For me, it’s been a way to reconnect with what was once severed.
“We often talk about the stars, but we never talk about the darkness it takes to see them.”
You don’t need to become someone new.
You just need to remember who you are beneath the noise.
And I’m here to walk you home.
This isn’t about fixing you.
This is about walking you home, to your body, to your intuition, to your truth.
I don’t promise overnight transformation. But I do promise this: you are not broken. You are remembering. And I’m here to guide you, softly, steadily, soulfully, every step of the way.