Because of being born into a family dynamic that included a Narcissistic Mother and Alchoholic Father, safety was not always an emotion I embraced. Couple that with being a highly sensitive child, and I often felt disassociated in my body. Add into the mix "imaginary friends" and spirit visitations, life growing up was a bit of a circus of tragedies and circumstances.
Being bullied because I did not fit into society's normal trajectory, and with no familial support, I attempted suicide for the first time in my sophomore year. But spirit knew this was not my reality and intervened. I had a purpose unbeknownst to me that would reveal itself when I was ready.
Because of my individuality and inability to fit in, I was banished. Alone in New York City, I began life with people whom understood, and finally began living as me. But years of rejection had wired my nervous system for chaos—I didn’t care whether I lived or died. I threw myself into reckless situations, chasing numbness. I needed help. I needed to live.
Buddhism found me when I had nowhere left to turn. The teachings of compassion, discipline, and self-inquiry gave me structure. I took vows, immersed myself in rigorous practice, and dedicated myself to deep spiritual work. In solitude and devotion, I learned forgiveness. I forgave my parents. I forgave myself.
Then came the night that changed everything. A friend invited me to a “ceremony.” I had no idea what I was about to ingest—only that it was called the “Queen Mother of All Teacher Plants.”
IT WAS IBOGA!!!
I had unknowingly built an addiction to opioids, masking my pain under the guise of “treating neck pain.” That night, Iboga ripped my body apart. The withdrawals, the visions, the unrelenting purge—it was eight hours of agony. The next night, she showed me the truth:
For the first time, I felt whole.
Iboga led me to Gabon, West Africa, where I was initiated into the Bwiti tradition. It was raw, brutal, and stripped me of all worldly comforts. In the depths of ceremony, I relived the moment my soul left my body—the night I overdosed on my mother’s sleeping pills as a teen. The night I should have died.
I found my soul that night.
Returning from Gabon, I knew my purpose: to guide others through their healing. My teacher told me, "Dayle, you will take Bwiti in a whole new direction." Today, I work with sacred plant medicines—Iboga, Kambo, Bufo—to help others face their shadows, trauma, and truth. I have witnessed profound transformations, and my heart is full.
I am now creating a platform to support other with CPTSD, offering guidance, healing, and community. My life is no longer about survival—it is about service.
Since a child I have had my "imaginary friends" and visits with deceased family members. These circumstances were always brushed off as a child, and because of my disassociation not fully realized. However, over the last three years I have explored this gift more deeply and now it is accesible and understood readily. Supporting those whom are grieving or lost in their lives through channeling and mediumship has only added one more "tool in the toolbox' to further my abilities to help others heal.
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