The person behind the work
I'm not going to sit across from you with a clipboard and a theory. I'm going to sit with you as someone who has been in the hard places — and found a way through them.
Personal training. Massage therapy. Recruitment. The common thread, the quiet calling — it was always people. Then, like a lot of us, I chased the money into FIFO — and it's where I met my husband.
We worked together in construction and mining for a few years, then built something of our own: a rural fencing business. We wanted to be home-based when we started a family. For a while, it worked.
Eight months after our first son was born, my husband suffered a major spinal injury. We had to shut down the business, sell what we could, and start again. We moved to Victoria to be near family — and it was there I found out I was pregnant with our second boy.
Five adults, a one-year-old and a newborn under one roof. It was crowded in every sense of the word. We bought a caravan while we figured out our next move. Two months later, my mother-in-law was badly injured — kicked by a horse — and we came back to WA to help.
When finances got tight, I went back to FIFO work. I know what it's like to be the one who flies away — and comes home to a young family trying to hold everything together. And I know what it's like to be at home holding it. Both sides carry their own weight.
I eventually transitioned into a role at Rio Tinto, working in the Operations Centre managing mine sites remotely.
I knew the work wasn't where I was meant to be. So on my days off, I studied remedial massage. Then Covid hit, I lost my job — and I started a massage business from home that grew quickly and filled my heart in ways a mine site never could.
Still, life kept asking more of us financially. We sold the house, hit zero dollars, moved into a tent and a pop-up trailer — and spent a year converting a truck into a home on wheels while I studied to become a therapist and mediator.
I didn't go to those studies with a clear career plan. I went because I needed to understand people — including myself — more deeply. And every modality I've added since has been one I wished I'd known about sooner.
Right now I'm travelling Australia full-time with my husband, our two boys, and our dog — living in the truck we built together. We help people wherever we go: physically on properties, and through therapy, mediation, accountability coaching, massage and energy work.
Sessions are online, which means you can work with me from wherever you are in the world — and from the comfort and privacy of your own space. For a lot of people, being in a familiar environment makes it easier to open up. There's something powerful about doing this work from the place you actually live your life.
No one's story is the same. No one's pain is harder or easier. We are beautifully, completely unique — and the way through isn't going to come from a script.
My life has taught me not to judge. To hear people's pain and hold space through it the way they need — not the way a textbook says I should. I've helped men and women — colleagues, friends of friends, family of friends, clients of clients, and strangers who found their way to me.
I'm always learning. Always adding to what I can offer. And I love to teach — sharing what I've gathered so that the tools don't just live in our sessions, but go home with you. The goal has never been for you to need me forever. It's for you to know yourself well enough that you don't.
"Everything you bring into this space stays here. The space is yours — for exactly what you need it to be."
— Dani, Aligned ClarityThere's a difference. Listening is passive. Hearing is active. I pay attention to what's said, what's not said, and the patterns underneath both.
Compassionately — but honestly. If I see a pattern, I'll name it. That's where the clarity lives.
Not where I think you should be. Not where a model says you are. Where you actually are — right now.
Every client teaches me something. And I love to pass on what I've gathered — so the tools go home with you, not just stay in the session.
Sometimes we need to try something on to see if it fits. I hold it lightly with you — we can feel out the truth together, without judgment.
When you step into this space, it belongs to you. Your pain, your story, your pace. I'm here to hold it with you — not to fill it with mine.
Reach out and let's have a conversation.
No pressure, no commitment — just a first step.