The Triumph

I’ve been mulling this one over for a couple of weeks now . . . contents include Disney, gunfire, panic, death, triumphs, Jesus, and love.

Finding Strength Within the Weakness

I’ve been mulling this one over for a couple of weeks now . . . contents include Disney, gunfire, panic, death, triumphs, Jesus, and love.

When my mom fell and broke her femur, we were finishing up our vacation in Orlando, Florida. We had already purchased tickets for the following day at Magic Kingdom. As I sat stunned, contemplating my options, after receiving the news of her injury, I was frozen in fear. How could I possibly fly out of Orlando . . . alone? The mere thought of doing so caused a surge of overwhelming anxiety to rage through my system. The trauma recovery expert in me, virtual clipboard in hand, began checking off the “how to stay calm and re-regulate your system” boxes. Meanwhile, the trauma survivor, little Teri, was curling smaller and smaller into a ball in a corner, wanting nothing more than to hide away until it was safe to come out of that protective shell again.

I elected to finish the last day and a half of our vacation then travel to Cincinnati once we returned home to Hilton Head Island. That gave me a small reprieve to get my bearings. We took off to Magic Kingdom the following morning. I’d had so much fun at the previous theme parks we’d visited earlier in the week and Kennedy Space Center a few days prior, I thought nothing of heading off to Disney for another adventure. When we pulled into the parking lot, I felt the first surges of old panic patterns start to emerge. My eyes were scanning for cover. We were being directed to a wide-open parking area, trees lining the outskirts of the lot, a monorail cutting across the horizon just ahead of us. All I could think about was running for cover, even before leaving the safe confines of our vehicle. We stopped to ask the attendant if I could be dropped off closer, but he willfully ignored my pleas from the backseat and waved us on to pull on ahead to the next available spot in row too-wide-open-for-someone-teetering-at-the-edge-of-a-PTSD-breakdown.

As we parked, the surges became too much to corral any longer. I stepped out of the vehicle and my legs stopped functioning. My brain screamed for safety. My eyes darted about seeking cover. I was back in 1988 St. Bernard, Ohio, behind a bank, scrambling from gunshots, staring down the barrel of a Luger as it beckoned my lifeforce, trying to decide between death and death as I willed my one-thousand-pound legs to move. I chose possible death over imminent death and ran, as fast as cement legs can run, back toward the gunfire, or in real world time, to our parked car. I jumped into the backseat, pulled a blanket over my head, and sobbed. I set it free. My body was trembling, my cries given voice, and I told the kids, “Just go. Just go have fun.” Then to Jen, “Please take me back to the resort. I need to go. Hurry.” As she drove me back to The Fountains, I continued to release my overwhelm, hidden under a blanket in the backseat. I then climbed into bed and did the same there. I sobbed and shook and sobbed and shook some more until my body was exhausted and relieved of that stored negative energy.

Once calm, I contemplated the events of the previous week . . . no, months . . . oh hell, two years. Moving from Ohio to South Carolina mid-pandemic, Covid isolation, mycotoxin poisoning and resulting illnesses, overwhelming debt from the mold remediation and medical expenditures (our trip to Orlando was a free week we’d been holding onto from a timeshare), numerous attorneys informing us we have a great case due to the lies on the disclosures but they won’t represent us due to “no guarantee of money payout”, my oldest son’s journey from his personal darkness into a brighter future, my youngest son’s travels from toxic servitude to dreams coming to fruition, traveling far from home via car for this trip (I’m not a highway fan!), and my mom’s fall and emergency partial hip replacement. It all came crashing down upon me in the Magic Kingdom parking lot.

We returned home the following day. Me back in the rear seat with a blanket over my head. Dissociating into Encanto on my Disney+ app as we zipped northward back into the Lowcountry. As I hugged our dogs after arriving home, feeling safe enough to discard my hermit crab shell of a blanket, the fear prickled into conscious thought again . . . hey, T, you need to get to your mom. So, how’s that gonna happen?

I had been gifted a 6-week somatic healing course by a podcast guest and it just so happened to start the week we returned from our trip. I prayerfully considered my options for returning to Cincinnati to help my mom and elected to find my way back (that was still up for consideration on HOW I’d get there) once she was out of rehab so I could help her transition from the rehabilitation facility back to independent living in her cute little retirement community. Whew! Another reprieve from traveling . . . alone.

I was continuing my weekly EMDR therapy, something I had gifted myself soon into the mycotoxin poisoning diagnosis, ensuring I was taking care of my mental health as I battled the horrific physical symptoms. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t developing food phobias after bouts of my throat closing up and emergency room visits due to food reactions (unbeknownst to me at the time, histamine intolerance from mast cell activation due to mold toxicity can result in anaphylactic reactions). Adding somatic healing to my already enormous coping skills toolbox just felt right. I had also visited the Harmonic Egg, with its sound, light, and vibration energy, and had my world rocked by the experience. As I waded into the world of somatic healing, I found myself learning new ways of sitting with anxiety symptoms as they arose. Nutrition was also brought to light and the fact that beans have a powerful part in removing adrenaline from the body. Something I had not yet learned in my research over these past 9 years of trauma recovery work.

I started adding chickpea pasta, black beans, and other bean sources to my diet. I started practicing sitting with my overwhelm as I began challenging myself. I walked further out into the open spaces of our beach then honored my body parts as they tingled with warnings. I acknowledged their messages of needing to hide or run or find that always elusive safety I’d been seeking since childhood. I gently placed my hand upon my arm as it vibrated with an adrenal surge, stating, “I feel you and acknowledge your anxiety. Let’s just be with it.” And then I’d just stay . . . stay . . . stay . . . as long as I could sit with it. My hand gently placed on whatever spot felt activated. If it moved, I would simply follow it, touch it, acknowledge it, talk to it, stay with it, thank it for its warning, then stay with it some more.

And so it went. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for that 6-week course. Me absorbing, practicing, learning, growing more than ever in my trauma knowledge. Both professionally and personally.

All the while, the deadline of my mom’s release from rehab was looming closer. I had to make a decision. I finally bought the damn plane ticket and BOOM! A kidney stone attack within hours of my flight back to Ohio. Seriously? There I was in the hospital, racking up $86K in hospital expenses from two different hospitals (sinful, isn’t it?), asking Allegiant Airlines from my hospital bed for a credit due to emergency surgery. They thankfully were beyond helpful and made a medical exception, cancelling my roundtrip ticket from SAV to CVG.

Working from a fetal position of pain from the stent the doctor placed during surgery, I was able to appeal the Medicare decision to boot my mom from rehab and win the appeal. I needed just a few more days to recover and make it the required week to get the stent removed. I was desperately avoiding the narcotics being prescribed and worried silly about the impact the antibiotics might be having on my system. The physical healing work I had done over the past year, bringing all of my labs back into normal ranges, was being threatened by western meds. I had to have faith that all was unfolding, however, as it needed to reveal whatever lesson I was needing to learn. I only took a few doses of pain medications throughout the entire ordeal. From initial emergency room intensity, through surgery, next day hospital stay, and upon returning home. Instead, I sat with the discomfort, honoring it, learning from it, allowing my body to heal. I used it as an opportunity to learn to sit with discomfort.

My stent was removed Monday morning and my flight was rescheduled for Friday morning. My anticipatory anxiety was coming in larger waves. And each time, I gently placed my hand on the spot I felt it rising, pulsating, or stirring. I sat with the discomfort. I listened. I honored. I loved. I comforted. I promised little Teri to hold her on my lap on that flight and keep her safe.

Friday morning, I had to be at the airport by 5:15 AM for a 6:45 AM flight. Funny how God works in my life at times. Our tiny little airport is never crazy busy. But that morning . . . a line out the door! Everyone in the Lowcountry must have wanted out early that day. I snaked my way through the line up to the security area, only to have my bag searched due to one of my toxin binders setting off the sensors, and then having a pat down. I hustled to the gate only to hear over the speaker, “Zone 4 is now boarding”, Yep. Zone 4 on my boarding pass. No time to sit in a seat and panic. Straight onto the jet.

I have this habit of always touching the outside of the plane upon walking through the doorway onto the flight and saying softly, “Thank you”. Thanking it for keeping me safe in flight. For taking me to my family or whatever destination I’m heading toward. I found my seat, 8C, or so I thought. An unpleasant woman advised me I was in her seat. I was on the wrong side of the aisle. I hopped over to my seat and noticed both seats next to me were empty.

A little backtrack here. I had sent up a prayer as I maneuvered my way through the security gate line, asking Jesus and Mary to be with me on the flight. I said, “Jesus, if you could sit on one side of me, and Mary if you could be on the other side, in the aisle, just holding my hand, that would be great. Thank you! I love you!”

The plane was nearly full when along came a young college-aged man, who scooted past me and sat down directly next to me. The doors were fastened shut and the flight attendant announced, “We have a sold-out flight today. All seats are full. Please be sure you are in your assigned seat.” The young man next to me hopped over to the window seat, pulled the shade down, smiled at me, and said, “I guess this is the only empty seat on the flight!” And I smiled. Knowing it wasn’t really empty. I reached my hand over and felt His presence with me. Thanks, Jesus, for being here with me.

Within minutes, I felt myself being pressed into the seat as we launched down the runway, then up into the smoothest takeoff in my life. I thought perhaps we hadn’t even left the ground. No bumps or jostling as we climbed. I found my way into my bag of activities. There was my Grandma Kitty’s rainbow rosary, my favorite smooth green calming stone, 250 gel pens, a Zen coloring book, my WEAK copies (more on that in another blog), 2 fidget spinners, and my Air Pods. I popped my pods in and listened to some singing bowl music as I started coloring one of my WEAK copies with all of the black and blue pens I could find in the bag.

The first intrusive thought popped in about 20 minutes into the flight, after that first ding ding from the flight staff disrupted my coloring and song meditation, “Hey, T, you’re probably 30,000 feet in the air right now.” Woooooooosh! The adrenaline hit my right forearm. I slowed my breath purposefully. I set down my coloring materials and gently placed my left hand on my arm. I thanked it for the warning. I reminded it that angels were beneath the jet, guiding us along our path. I smiled remembering my therapist telling me she likes to envision the jet in a giant bubble just rolling along the earth. So, I went with that thought, too. Then I envisioned giant running shoes under the plane, and this big metal beast cruising along, careful not to step on houses and cars as it bound over mountainous terrain. I couldn’t help but smile. I told the thought, “I don’t have time for you right now so I’m going to place you on this shelf. I’ll get back to you later.” So, in a way, I honored it.

I decided to shift music gears and popped it on shuffle. I was now allowed to open my laptop and found Sudoku. I danced in my seat, smiling, singing along to my eclectic mix of tunes, playing Sudoku, holding my calming stone in my left hand, grateful for the radiating presence I could feel coming from that “empty” seat next to me. Mary was present but I believe she was visiting with a few other folks who may have been experiencing some overwhelm. I had put a wall of protective boundaries around me upon sitting down and noticing the bouncing legs and fidgeting happening in the people sitting nearby. I offered them all a peaceful flight and whatever calming resources they needed but asked their energy to keep at bay from my personal space. As an empath, if I don’t do so, I can be overwhelmed with others’ energy.

My ears started popping and I realized we were on our way down! Tears began to flow down my cheeks as I simply allowed them their course. I said to myself, “Teri. You’re a freaking rock star.” I sat beaming in that seat, with my laptop, calming rock, gel pens, Zen coloring book, and a big giant WEAK staring me in the face. I found my strength within my weakness. I hugged little Teri tight and whispered to her, “WE DID IT!”

I had last flown alone, traveled alone, when I was 15 years old. I flew to New York City, landing in Newark, on Christmas morning. The Empire State building had been lit up in red and green lights. My best friend had moved to New York after her parents divorced and her dad took a job in Manhattan. I was headed on a ski trip with her and her family in Killington, Vermont. This was before date rape, and a gang attack, and attempted rape by a police officer, and a stabbing, and bank robbery number one, and a gun held to my head, and bank robbery number two where that same gun murdered my coworker, and that fateful day of running with cement legs behind a bank as that Luger misfired at me.

This flight was the peak of triumph. This moment. This celebratory whisper of WE DID IT! And WE did. Thanks, again, Jesus, for sitting beside me. Figuratively and literally. That flight really was full, with no empty seats.

As a P.S. on my flight back, same announcement. The lady in the window seat looked at me as we landed at SAV and said, “How lucky were we that the only empty seat on this flight was between us?” I just smiled. Jesus did, too.

* As a side note, upon contacting Disney after returning from our trip, advising them about the lack of trauma-sensitive practices by Magic Kingdom staff, I am happy to report that their response was wonderful. They have a no-refund policy, yet we were refunded for the two tickets we did not use that day.

The Healing Place Podcast: Mike Collins – Overcoming Sugar Addiction; Trauma and Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) Impact on Addiction

A big thank you to Mike Collins, founder of and the Quit Sugar Summit, for engaging in such an enlightening conversation on addiction. Please join us as we discuss:

  • the history of sugar production and consumption
  • his own sugar journey
  • the impact of trauma and adverse childhood experiences on sugar addiction
  • his book, The Last Resort Sugar Detox Guide
  • benefits of overcoming addiction
  • and so much more!

Welcome to The Healing Place Podcast! I am your host, Teri Wellbrock. You can listen in on Pandora, iTunesBlubrrySpotify, Deezer, Google Podcasts, Amazon Music, Podbean, and more, or directly on my website at You can also watch our insightful interview on YouTube.


“Michael Collins is the founder of and Quit Sugar Summit, as well as the past Chairman of the Board and current Board Member of Addiction Institute, has been completely sugar-free for over 30 years and has worked closely with others to help them regain lives ravaged by this addictive product.

Mike has been in recovery from substance-use disorder for over 35 years and can speak on recovery topics separate from sugar. He raised two children sugar-free from the womb to over six years old – when they only had sugar once a month for their entire childhood. His book was rated #1 in Healthy Living on Amazon.”

Learn more about Mike and his mission at



Hope for Healing Newsletter:

Book Launch Team:

ACEs as Life & Death

* The following article is a guest piece written and shared per my request by recent podcast guest, Suzie Gruber. Thank you, Suzie, for sharing your insights, wisdom, and beautiful light with us!

ACEs as Life & Death
by Suzie Gruber, M.A., SEP

We tend to think about life as the basic functioning of our body.  Am I breathing?  Is my heart beating?  Can I see and hear?  But there’s another measure to life.  Am I fully alive?  Am I living my dream?  Am I following my heart?  Not my physical heart.  My emotional heart. Do I let myself do something for at least a little while everyday that I truly love, that makes my heart sing with joy.  Something that’s all mine.  For me more and more the answer to this last question is yes.  I intend to do something everyday that makes my heart sing.  My life certainly wasn’t always this way.  Until I was in my forties, I had no idea what an intention even was.  I lived by the seat of my pants, living the opposite of being fully alive, living in daily crisis and anxiety and feeling very dead on the inside.

What’s the opposite of being fully alive?  Being among the countless numbers of living dead.  Those of us who learned through Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) to shut down our hearts, stuff our feelings, stop following that brilliant orange butterfly, and instead swallow our words and desires.  ACEs lead us to grow up as a shell of our true selves.  Why? Because in order to stay alive back then, in order to survive, we had to mold ourselves to our caregivers’ desires in order to minimize rejection.  We developed a variety of survival strategies, ways we have of playing small and invisible in order to minimize harm and maximize connection with our caregivers. 

Fast forward and we carry these survival strategies into adulthood. Many of us procrastinate, self-sabotage, and relentlessly criticize ourselves.  Ask me how long I put off writing this blog post and how much I shamed myself for it.  Some of us overcommit, work until we drop, and overachieve.  It cuts both ways: we shut down and/or overdo it.  Many of us very much prefer to take care of other people before we even acknowledge, never mind attend to our own needs.  Sound familiar.

Isn’t that ironic?  The strategies that we developed to keep us alive in those difficult environments are killing us now.  We need to be visible and to speak up confidently in order to live authentically.

ACEs create what I call death by the double bind.  There’s how to be and how not to be rather than who we truly are.  We become living dead when survival strategies dominate and when as adults we continue to live as if we are still in those old environments.  This creates an internal conflict, a pull between how we learned to be to survive and who we truly are.  Here are some examples of these double binds.  This first one I struggle with constantly:  a) I learned not to speak up for myself back then and b) I love to write and I want to share my work with the world.  Or how about a) I learned to help other people first and b) I really need help in order to grow my business.  Or a) I learned to tolerate what other people did to me as a child and b) I need to speak up and have healthy boundaries in order to have healthy relationships.

These strategies are extremely persistent. Why?  Because inside us they are tied to our biological survival.  They literally kept us alive.  Think lizard brain.  Consequently, they don’t shift easily.  This is why it’s very unusual for those of us with ACEs to be able to just shift our mindset or use a behavioral strategy to truly overcome these double binds.  We might feel better briefly and I am all for that.  I have my own very full toolbox of cognitive and somatic tools that I can pull out even in the grocery store line. 

However, what if I told you there’s a way to really work with these old strategies, a way to get at the root of what’s driving them so that you can turn down their volume substantially?  I want to introduce you to the NeuroAffective Relational ModelTM (NARMTM), a top-down, cognitive and bottom-up, somatic approach to helping people recover from ACEs.  What I love about NARM is that it truly gets to the heart of the matter by helping us uncover what’s keeping us stuck right now in our lives, usually a type of double bind like I mentioned above.  We focus on the specifics of the internal conflict going on inside us rather than telling our ACEs stories yet again.  We can’t change the past but we can change our relationship to the past, see what’s unfinished and why on some level we are still caught in survival mode. 

I am here to tell you that whatever it was that happened to you, you already survived that.  I know because you are reading this blog post.  You are no longer trapped in that house, in that family and in that situation. What do you notice right now as you consider what I just said? Differentiating the past from the present is a significant part of healing from ACEs.

Dr. Laurence Heller, the creator of NARM frequently reminds us that what we fear most has already happened.  What many of us fear most is being rejected.  Consider for a moment that those of us with ACEs were rejected over and over in big and small ways by our family of origin, often on a daily basis.  We already survived that.  Can you let that reality in? There might be some emotion that comes along with this experience.  See if you can let it be here.

You can do the work necessary to live fully alive in spite of ACEs.  It takes persistence, a constant connection to the part of you that knows without a doubt that you can heal, that you no longer want to just survive among the living dead.  Sometimes it’s messy and even painful to resolve but from my perspective it’s totally worth it.  Feel that primal urge inside you to come alive and live authentically whatever that means to you.  Back then you had to compromise to survive. Now it’s time to fully live.

Want help with this?  Let’s talk.

Suzie Gruber, M.A., SEP., holds advanced degrees in chemistry & psychology   She spent 15 years in biotechnology before returning to her first love inspiring people to transform their lives.  A personal development coach living in Ashland, OR, Suzie also offers workshops and webinars designed to provide a trauma-informed lens through which service providers and leaders can better serve their clients and staff.  Additionally, Suzie is a training assistant and the Research Director for the NARM Training Institute.

The Positivities of Persistence Series

Positivities of Persistence


This series will focus on the benefits of being persistent along your healing quest. I will, again, be speaking from experience. Some practical advice mixed with sprinklings of raw truth (those “This sucks and I really want to give up” moments).

This will work best if you have a journal, pad of paper, or Word doc dedicated to this exercise as I will be asking you to keep notes which you will need to refer back to as we progress.

Subtopics will include:

  1. What does persistence really mean? 
  2. How do we define positivities?
  3. A checklist of positive outcomes. 
  4. Habits and hurdles.
  5. Accountability. 
  6. Celebrating goals.
  7. Encouraging one another. 
  8. Final checklist.

I look forward to embarking on a Positivities of Persistence journey with you!

Join me on this Positivities of Persistence journey by subscribing to my Hope for Healing Newsletter.

The Healing Place Podcast Interview: Greg Williams – Shattered by the Darkness

Welcome to The Healing Place Podcast! I am your host, Teri Wellbrock. You can listen in on iTunes, Blubrry or directly on my website at You can also watch our insightful interview on YouTube.

I was honored to have Dr. Greg Williams join me for a powerful conversation about his upcoming book release “Shattered by the Darkness: Putting the Pieces Back Together After Child Abuse”, his mission, personal story of triumph, and more!

Per Greg’s website: “Dr. Gregory Williams has written a new book that chronicles his lifelong journey of child abuse and its aftermath. It has taken Dr. Gregory more than 30 years to begin unveiling the horrors of what happened to him throughout his entire childhood. His book recounts the sexual exploitation he endured at the hands of his own father for 12 years.”

Be sure to check out these articles, highlighting Greg’s story, posted in the ACEs Connection community:

Baylor Employee Shares Story of Childhood Trauma in Hopes of Helping Others

Shattered By The Darkness: Powerful book by a humble man on a mission to prevent what happened to him from happening to other children

Baylor College of Medicine students introduced to ACEs science

Peace to you all!

Hope for Healing Newsletter:

Book Launch Team:

Coping Strategy: Create a Safe Space

Coping Strategy 

Borrowed from my February, 2019 Hope for Healing Newsletter.

I want to share one coping strategy a month. These are strategies I use (or have used) in my own life as I travel the healing journey. I hope they bring you tranquility, as well!

 Create a safe space for yourself.

This can be a safe space in your mind where you can go when feeling anxious. Mine is a cozy little nook, surrounded by books and filled with a snuggly bed with lots of pillows and blankets, looking out a ceiling to floor window over a brilliant blue ocean, with a calming breeze flowing through the room, and sunlight streaming from behind a lone white cloud. Use as much detail as you can muster. What does the space smell like, what’s the temperature, what’s there in the space? Are you outside or inside? Remember, this is YOUR space. Fill it with you and everything that makes your heart happy. 

Or an actual space. Filled with all things comforting, supportive, love-infused, and joyous. Make it about you and your needs. What makes your soul happy? Fill YOUR space with THAT.

Me in my sacred writing space . . . where I blog, record The Healing Place Podcast, edit videos for my YouTube channel, finish my book manuscript, and hang with our dogs, Sammie & Max
Beautiful reminders in my writing space

God saying “hello” while lighting up my “be brave” reminder

What is Exposure Therapy?

What is Exposure Therapy?

(The following article comes from borrowed snippets from a conversation thread in the ACEs Connection community in response to my asking for guidance regarding Exposure Therapy)

“Prolonged Exposure (PE) is the most researched treatment for trauma related disorders around. It is also a “gold standard” treatment – meaning its efficacy is top of the line. Dropout rates for trauma treatments are statistically the same for all approaches. Part of the symptomatology of PTSD is avoidance. That is (the) basis for the prolonged exposure, to have the client face what they are avoiding, especially the more disturbing aspects of the traumatic event(s) as measure by subjective units of distress (SUDs). 

PE involves having the client relive the trauma over and over again until SUDs begin to go down. Your homework would include listening to recordings of your sessions outside the treatment room. You may also be assigned to expose yourself to anxiety provoking stimuli outside of sessions based on a hierarchy of fears and anxieties working on the most anxiety-provoking antecedent first.  As previously stated, the goal of therapy is to reduce your SUDs level to a manageable point. Even though SUDs were developed by a behavior therapist (the “B” in CBT which is the general classification of PE), the late psychiatrist, Josepf Wolpe, SUDs are also used in Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) and Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT). 

The research indicates there is no statistically significant (difference) in any of the approaches with the exception of EFT, which doesn’t have a significant research base, though the relatively fewer studies indicate EFT yields promising results.

If you would like more information on PE, you might want to get a hold of a copy of Edna Foa’s, the creator of PE workbook, that is written for PE clients titled Reclaiming Your Life From a Traumatic Experience (2007).”

Please remember: Healing is possible and you are so very worthy of that gift! 

The Healing Place Podcast Interview: Krissie Myers – Milestones & Foster Care

Welcome to the Healing Place Podcast! I’m your host, Teri Wellbrock. You can listen in on iTunes, Blubrry or directly on my website at

It made my heart happy to sit down with my friend Krissie Myers to discuss her program directors roles with Milestones, Inc. – an equestrian achievement program – and Kentucky Intensive Family Services foster care agency. You can find out more about Milestone’s wonderful programs and volunteer opportunities on their Facebook page or on their website.

Information on Kentucky Intensive Family Services can be found on their website:

“As a small, non-profit agency, KIFS takes pride in the ability to provide intense, therapeutic, in-home services to foster families and the children placed in their homes. We are very proud of our high success rate of helping children reach permanency, reducing the lingering effects of trauma due to abuse, neglect, and family crisis situations, and enhancing the over-all health, well-being, and life experience of our most vulnerable population.”

Thanks for joining us! If you are enjoying these podcast, please be sure to leave a comment on iTunes or provide feedback on Blubrry or my website.

And, as always, a reminder to be gentle with yourself.



The Healing Place Podcast Interview: Lucia Giovannini – A Whole New Life

Welcome to The Healing Place Podcast! I’m your host, Teri Wellbrock. You can listen in on iTunes, Blubrry or directly on my website at You can also watch our interview on YouTube.

I was thrilled to have Lucia Giovannini join me for a beautiful and enlightened conversation about her upcoming book release in the United States, her life mission, soul work, animal advocacy, and so much more! Be sure to check out the quiz on her website! Thank you so much for joining us.

“Lucia Giovannini is a former Italian supermodel turned best-selling author, spiritual teacher, transformational coach, environmental & animal activist, and author of 13 books. Her best-selling book, “A Whole New Life”, was first published in Italian and is now translated into eight languages, including an English version published by Hay House India. Her book has sold thousands of copies around the world and will be debuting in the US in March 2019. Growing up in Africa, Lucia often caused her parents’ hearts to skip a beat when she befriended the wildlife, from lizards to crocodiles. Till this day, she remains a passionate animal rights activist. She is a Master Fire-walking Trainer, an NLP and Neuro-Semantics Trainer, and a recognized international Life Coach.”

You can reach out to Lucia at or on her Facebook community page at A Whole New Life

Peace to you all!

Lucia Giovannini

Peace to you all!

Hope for Healing Newsletter

Book Launch Team:

God-Therapy via a Labradoodle

I have been taking a little social media post-holiday hiatus. Catching up on life and such. Then today put life in perspective in a huge God-therapy way so I had to share.

Sammie was working her therapy dog gig this morning when a child was brought into the room. His tear-filled eyes captured my heart and Sammie instantly worked her therapy dog magic . . . kisses and hugs and snuggles and more kisses. She wouldn’t leave his side for nearly an hour. He and I chatted and chatted while Sammie loved him. With the purest love possible. Just heart to heart.

Afterward I discovered the horrific tragedy that had befallen this child only hours prior. I cried the entire car ride home. My sweet dog helped this little guy smile when smiling seemed an impossibility for these circumstances. She gave him an hour of reprieve from his heartache and trauma.

As a reward, I took her for a hike at Cincinnati Nature Center. And she smiled the entire hike ❤

Sammie Doodle – Pet Partners registered therapy dog
Smiling Sammie! Pet Partners therapy dog.