The Feral Future I Manifested

I want to share a story about manifestation. But before you roll your eyes or move on to the next thing, I do feel it’s a good one — and maybe it’s a version you haven’t heard before.

You see, I’ve been in the world of health and healing, natural beauty, and humanitarian efforts for close to twenty years. I’ve made it my inside job to unearth mysticism, astrology, numerology, and occult practices. Not in a new-age kind of way (I actually didn’t even call myself spiritual until recently, because of the ungrounded mala-beads, vegan-eating stereotype). At 5’10 and blonde, I probably look like the average spiritual bypasser — but trust me, I am not. I go deep. Really deep. Surface stuff just doesn’t work with me.

Ask my fiancé Erik — I know he prays for some days when we can just be light, maybe even “normies.” But I can’t. I’ve done the work. A lot of it. And I’ve tried nearly everything. And let me be clear: when I say “light,” I don’t mean without fun — I mean the complete opposite. I mean going deep enough, and living without projections, so we can actually experience the aliveness, the fullness, the ecstasy that is ours to claim.

I went to Spain on my own for my teacher’s first Kundalini festival in Mallorca, drawn there to honor the eclipse and immerse myself in that potent energy. I spent a week with Joe Dispenza during Covid, after a full year of committing daily to his meditations. I flew to Hawaii on a gut instinct to sit with a renowned rebirthing teacher coming out of retirement — without even knowing where I was staying. (And yes, I like nice things.) I even made it my professional career to advise businesses working in the deep healing space.

To me, there is no other reason to be here. One of my favorite quotes is by Carl Jung: “The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you really are.” I take that literally and seriously, every single day.

When I first moved to California in 2015, I was seeing someone new and by fall we were ready for adventures. I asked a few friends about great weekend getaways, and almost unanimously they said: the Santa Ynez Valley. I had never heard of it. But the moment they described the beauty and the food scene, I knew it was for me — two of my favorite things.

On that first trip, my friend Marlena gave us a weekend itinerary that we followed almost to a T, even down to the route she recommended to take in the best scenery. I won’t go into every detail of the weekend because that’s not the point of this story. But I will tell you this: two of the spots we visited took my breath away and instantly became two of my favorite places in the world — Demetria Winery and S.Y Kitchen. At almost forty years old, after years of traveling far and wide, I suddenly had two new favorite places just two and a half hours from home. They became my secret special places for the next five years.

Then life moved on, as it does, but the valley never left me — and I came as often as I could.

Fast forward to 2023. After Covid, I was in LA and I knew I had to get out. I was certain I would not meet a like-minded man in a place that had so many rules and restrictions, where everyone seemed to follow the leader. I had known too much at this point.

I booked several sessions with astrocartographers (astrology based on location) They were popping up everywhere as people relocated en masse. I traveled for almost two years, following their recommendations, searching for a new home. And still — nothing.

Finally, through a friend who had found his own place this way, I was connected to a man said to be the real deal. “You might not like him,” my friend warned. “He’s eccentric, old school. But he’s been doing this for 30-something years. If he can’t find you a place, he’ll give you your money back.”

I was sold — and also desperate. I booked him immediately.

He interviewed me, studied my chart, listened to my desires… and then, get this, deferred me. Twice. Literally gave me my money back and said, check back in a few months.

I remember sitting on the beach in Venice, crying, thinking: I will never get out of here. But I don’t give up. Determination is my superpower.

Finally, after almost a year and a half, we spoke again. His voice was quieter this time, almost nervous, as he said: “I think I’ve found you a place. But I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

“Where?” I asked, bracing myself for another disappointment.

“Well… it’s forty-five minutes north of Santa Barbara, up the 101 toward Santa Maria. All those towns work for you. I think the whole area is called the Santa Ynez Valley.”

I took a deep breath.

What?! Two and a half hours from where I was already living? I had been ready to go anywhere — Mexico, Hawaii, Bali, Portugal, Colorado, Florida. And the answer was two and a half hours away?

At the time, I had just started seeing Erik. Just enough interest to entertain the idea of him coming with me to explore. He had two boys, so he needed a connection to LA.

The astrologer explained: based on the timing of my life, the transits I was in, and the placement of the planets, the Santa Ynez Valley was the best place in the world for me.

I remember laughing in giddy disbelief. You mean my secret, special spot is the place I’m supposed to live?

I booked an Airbnb a few days later. And by the time I sat down for an early dinner with my pup, Luna Grace, back at SY Kitchen — in their gorgeous outdoor space with the signature artichoke dish and a glass of Italian white wine in front of me — I knew. This was my new home.

Now, flash forward again to 2025. Erik and I live here. We created Feral Future, a mission-driven lifestyle company born out of our individual journeys and our shared vision of breaking the chains of domestication and reclaiming sovereignty. We launched with Feral Foods, ancestral meals made with local produce and regenerative meats — food designed to bring people back to the way we ate for eons, carrying the life force of the land itself.

And here’s the full circle — the beauty in this whole wild mess of a journey we call life: we use Demetria wine in our recipes, that same magical place I first encountered in 2015 — whose 100% organic and biodynamic methods align so deeply with our values and ethos. And Stica — the younger, just-opened sister of S.Y Kitchen, my destined restaurant — now carries our Feral Pantry collection: teas, herbs, salts, and more. The very things we use and love every day, rooted in the hearth, the heart and soul of our family. All under the direction of Luca Crestanelli, a beloved chef in this town who could not be more of an embodiment of a feral being (and I mean that in the most extraordinary way).

The Feral Pantry at Stica

Even creating Feral Future — and all that had to happen to Erik and myself individually and collectively — feels like its own manifestation. All the trials and tribulations of being human, of living in a matrix and trying to break free. The clearing of noise, dysfunction, chaos, the imprints of conditioning and programming from our ancestors, and all the people we chose to play a role in our individual movies. It is quite wild when you really look at it.

Feral Future is our dharma. And it is not easy. Our stuff comes up every single day as we walk this path. But our desire runs deeper: to help create a parallel society where children are birthed in total love and acceptance, where our gifts and uniqueness shine from our very first breath — and where we remember that we are abundant simply by being who we are.

From that knowing, abundance flows outward and is distributed properly, because there is so much of it. The only difference between the past and the future is claiming it — believing in our value and worth.

And when we believe in that worth, we can build a society rooted in safety, regulation, and love — a world where adults are emotionally grounded and regulated themselves, where children feel secure, where structure and consistency allow our tiny nervous systems to exhale. A world where we grow up confident, sovereign, and free.

And today, I am sitting in awe and appreciation for all the universal energies, guides, fairies, angels, shadows, projections, and “work” that have carried me here. At the same time, I feel the deep desire to finally let my wall of armor fall — to soften, to trust, and to honestly get out of my own way.

I know you don’t just sit back and let the universe deliver. You have to meet it halfway. You have to do the work. You have to be a sovereign being, taking 100% responsibility for your own life in order to see the magic unfold. But maybe — just maybe — it doesn’t have to be so forceful. Maybe I can actually meet it, use my body as the incredible vessel it is — to feel, to track sensations, to alchemize — not to push.

That feels softer. More empowering. Less controlling. And far more feral that way.

And in that softness, I can finally take the exhale I so desperately want for others. I can lead by example — and so I will. And so it is.

The future is feral. Wildly delicious. Beautiful beyond measure. And can we all just agree — let’s have some goddamn fun while we’re here.