THE RIDE IN: HOW I FOUND MY WAY HOME
I was born in Brazil and raised by the Atlantic—salt air, big skies, the sense that life could be shaped by rhythm and tide. At twenty, I moved to North America with a suitcase, a stubborn work ethic, and the conviction that reinvention is a muscle you build. I studied design, and learned business by the grind of doing it—one bold project, one mistake, one leap of faith at a time.
For years, my life moved the way most ambitious lives do—forward, fast, and often on the edge of burnout. I co-founded a design studio. I built communities around creativity and the water. I co-founded Surf the Greats and poured everything I had into transforming it from a dream into a movement—one where everyone was welcome—1,700 kilometres from the nearest ocean. We didn’t just build a business; we reshaped a culture, showing Toronto—Canada’s largest city and financial centre—that life in rhythm with the waves was possible anywhere.
From the outside, it looked like momentum. On the inside, it was meaning. Building something from nothing demanded clarity, courage, and discipline. It forced me to choose my values in public. Those years taught me how to lead teams, carry risk, communicate vision, and make decisions when the map was fogged in. They taught me how community changes people—how the right container can soften ego and call forward the best in us.
Then everything broke open.
Just before I turned forty, I lost my husband and business partner. Grief doesn’t ask permission. It empties a room and leaves you with the echo. In the shock that followed, my life went silent. The roles—founder, strategist, builder—fell away, and what remained was raw and human. I couldn’t outwork grief or brand my way through it. I had to let it move through me.
That season changed me. It was the deepest ride inward I’ve ever taken. I learned how the body carries stories long after the mind moves on. I learned that identity built only on achievement buckles under loss. And I learned that the most honest question a leader can ask is not “What should I do?” but “Who am I becoming?”
I rebuilt slowly. Therapy and somatic practice helped me meet the parts of myself I’d sidelined in the chase. Working with one of the best mindset coaches in North America showed me the way forward—how to transform pain into power, awareness into action. Training in Internal Family Systems and Neuro-Linguistic Programming gave me language for patterns I’d felt for years. Life-design principles helped me prototype a future that fit, not just impress. My MBA showed up in a new way—strategy turned inward: operational discipline, but for the soul. I started to see how awareness becomes action when it has a structure to live inside.
Out of that quiet came The Ride In.
The Ride In isn’t just a company; it’s a philosophy of inner leadership. It says transformation doesn’t make you someone new—it returns you to who you’ve always been. It bridges self-awareness with strategy so that alignment isn’t just a feeling; it’s a way of leading and living.
In practice, that looks like simple, powerful containers: one-on-one coaching for leaders and founders, alignment work for partnerships and executive teams, and intensives designed to spark honest conversation and conscious growth. The work blends what I’ve lived and what I’ve studied—neuroscience, IFS, NLP, and embodied practices—with the hard skills of building and scaling real businesses. It’s science meeting soul, with a bias toward implementation.
What actually changes when you begin the ride in?
First, clarity. Not the kind that arrives as a slogan, but the grounded clarity of knowing what’s true for you—values, boundaries, direction. From there, confidence shifts from performance to alignment. You stop proving and start choosing. Decision-making gets cleaner. Conversations get braver. Energy returns because you’re no longer paying the hidden tax of pretending.
Then the outer world catches up. Leadership becomes less about control and more about presence. Your team feels you listening. Collaboration stops being politics and starts being creation. Partners realign because the ground is steady again. The work carries meaning because it’s anchored in truth rather than pressure. And progress—on the goals that actually matter—shows up as a by-product of integrity.
If there’s a through-line in my story, it’s reinvention with integrity. I’ve built brands, carried payroll, negotiated distribution, launched products, closed stores, scaled teams, and started again. I’ve sat with grief until it turned into grace. All of it informs how I coach. I know how hard real change is. I also know it’s entirely possible—and faster—when you have a clear process and a partner who won’t flinch.
There was Surf the Greats. Now there’s The Ride In—my second act, my chance to exponentiate the shift I made in leaders, businesses, and communities worldwide.
Why launch this business now? Because the world doesn’t need more noise. It needs leaders who are congruent—whose outer impact reflects an inner truth. The Ride In exists for founders, executives, and changemakers who are ready to trade the constant striving for a quieter kind of power: alignment. It’s for the leader making big calls in a season of transition. For the partnership that wants to rebuild trust and move as one. For the team that’s hungry for clarity and culture. And for the person who knows there’s a life beyond the one they’ve outgrown.
This journal will be a record of that work—stories from the water and the boardroom, tools you can use, reflections on identity and purpose, and honest notes from the path. Some entries will be practical. Others will be personal. All of them will point back to the same place: the moment you turn inward, meet yourself at depth, and lead from there.
If you’re here, maybe something in your life is already asking for that turn. Maybe you’re in the fog between chapters. Maybe you’ve succeeded your way into a corner. Or maybe you’re simply ready to live with more conviction and less noise.
Either way, welcome. Take a breath. Look inward. And when you’re ready, let’s begin your ride in—where awareness becomes action, and purpose becomes practice.