Grief often brings us faceto- face with the complexities of our emotions and, for me, it was no different. When I was navigating the pain of the loss of my mentor, I found solace in the works of Mary Oliver. A phrase from the poem
“The Uses of Sorrow” resonated deeply with me: “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to discover this, too, was a gift.”
What I didn’t realize at the time was that these words would encapsulate the essence of a profound journey I would embark on nearly a decade later: my first experience with ayahuasca. This journey, much like a box of darkness, was initially terrifying but ultimately revealed itself as one of the greatest gifts I could receive.
I first encountered ayahuasca by proxy. I was initially drawn to plant medicine after reading about its therapeutic potential and suggesting it to a close friend who was struggling deeply. They took my advice and had an incredible experience at Rythmia Life Advancement Center, a medically licensed luxury plant medicine retreat in Costa Rica.
This friend described the trip as much more than a psychedelic experience and explained they found deep, profound healing that was difficult to articulate in words. They said it was the kind of thing I must do and see for myself and assured me there was nothing to be afraid of; in fact, it might help me with some personal challenges I was navigating at the time.
Grief was something I was familiar with: the loss of my dear mentor, the passing of family members and friends, and, most recently, the ending of my marriage.
As someone in the public eye — I’m a celebrity fashion stylist who’s worked with some of the biggest names in Hollywood — I was initially hesitant to explore this path. The idea of attending a retreat where I might be vulnerable and exposed filled me with a mix of skepticism and anxiety. I had long felt the pressure to maintain a certain “perfect image” and the possibility of word getting out that I was seeking help through such unconventional means made me question the decision. The fear of what I might encounter — loss of control and emotions I had long bottled up and ignored — was almost paralyzing.
Yet my friend’s extraordinary experience gave me the courage to book my trip. Arriving at Rythmia, I was immediately put at ease by the beauty of the surroundings, the warmth of the people and the sense of safety that enveloped the resort. The dragonflies flitting around seemed like gentle guardians, signaling that I was in the right place.
Rythmia offers more than just the ayahuasca ceremony, it provides comprehensive preparation for the journey. The classes — led by facilitators, including Founder and CEO Gerard Powell and Chief Medical Officer Jeff McNairy — were enlightening. They reassured me that ayahuasca was not a drug but a true medicine, revered by indigenous people in the Amazon for thousands of years as a powerful tool for healing. This understanding helped alleviate much of my anxiety. The facilitators described the experience as “15 years of therapy in a night,” and after four nights (required by the program), we were promised the ability to heal personal and generational trauma.
The first night of the ceremony, my heart pounded as I waited to enter the maloca (a traditional Amazonian wooden house), where we would drink the ayahuasca brew. Almost immediately after consuming the first cup, I was thrust into a vivid recollection of my earliest memories, from infancy through high school. The experience was like watching a movie reel of my past, one that unearthed memories I had long buried in my own “box of darkness.” For someone who grew up with a pretty idyllic childhood and a healthy, loving family, I was surprised by how much I had been carrying all these years.
The faded visions and memories that came up for me were recollections I would have normally glossed over and wouldn’t deem to be traumatic, but while reliving these flashbacks on ayahuasca, I experienced repressed feelings of fear, doubt, pain, shame and guilt that were excruciating. In these moments, I realized how necessary it was to feel them and release them. It sounds ridiculous in retrospect, but I was genuinely carrying around deep-seated emotions tied to these early memories along with the other stories that played in my mind that evening.
The ayahuasca told me to forgive myself and everyone else in my dreams. What followed next was this extraordinary wave of freedom and peace, causing me to sob tears of joy. I was no longer carrying the weight of those feelings, or the stories and the meaning that accompanied them.
During my first retreat, I sought clarity about my relationship, which was in trouble, but instead I found clarity about everything else in my life. Although I was initially frustrated by this, I realized in the months that followed that I had gained the tools and courage to make the difficult decision to leave a deeply unhealthy situation that no longer served me.
A year later, I returned to Rythmia and found my second experience with ayahuasca markedly different. By this time, I was already going through my divorce, but the fear that had once held me back was completely gone. I felt a profound connection and trust with myself; my inner voice had become my closest ally. I drank much more ayahuasca this time — seven, eight, sometimes nine cups a night. But despite the increased dosage, the experience was far less intense and much more gentle. The medicine seems to only give you what you can handle, quietly knowing what is needed to be unearthed and felt.
My real transformation happened not at the retreat but after I returned to my daily life. The unnecessary baggage I had been carrying started to fall away. My head was connected to my heart again and my purpose in life became clearer. I found deeper connections with others. I rediscovered a love for my work that I hadn’t felt in years.
More importantly, I found a sense of peace within myself — my emotional availability was wide open. The fear and self-doubt that had pained me were completely eradicated, the self-awareness I felt was so strong and I could genuinely trust myself and my intuition again — something I had long forgotten how to do.
I plan to continue this journey of selfexploration by returning to Rythmia annually. I know there are more layers to peel back. It’s easy to think you’re doing the work when you’re in therapy or working with coaches, but ayahuasca cuts through all the BS and cracks you open in the most beautiful way. It’s said that “the only way out is through confronting your fears and feelings,” so as the most difficult moments pass, they leave you feeling lighter than ever, feeling whole, completely resolved and healed.
The most important lesson I’ve learned is to truly love, accept, trust and forgive myself. To tap into my heart and to listen to my inner voice and intuition, which is stronger than ever. Ayahuasca taught me that true forgiveness comes from deep within one’s soul, and that the greatest act of surrendering is through profound acceptance.
So, perhaps what I’m feeling now is freedom — pure, unadulterated freedom — selflove and gratitude for my life experiences. Just as Mary Oliver’s poem suggested, the darkness that once enveloped me was not a curse but a profound gift. It took courage to look within myself to understand that the darkness I feared was merely the path to finding my own light.
