About Marsha Anne

I’ve been drawn to healing since I was a child. I’ve always been sensitive soft in spirit, tender at the core. That kind of softness that sees everything, feels everything, and carries it all. When I was three years old, my father left. My mother was only fifteen when she had me, doing her best in a world that hadn’t made room for either of us. It was my great-grandmother who raised me a deeply spiritual woman, wise and kind, who gave me unconditional love. She was soft, but strong. Sacred in the way she moved. Her presence taught me about love. About spirit. About stillness.

But outside of her arms, I often felt alone. Misunderstood. Unchosen. I carried abandonment like a quiet ache in my chest. I moved through the world with a smile, but inside I was searching. Searching for belonging. For security. For love that would stay.

I put myself through college. I worked in finance. I raised a daughter. But behind every achievement was a deep, aching question: Why do I still feel like I’m not enough?

At 25, I became a mother. And it was around that time that I began entering relationships that mirrored my oldest wounds. Over and over, I found myself in cycles of betrayal, rejection, abandonment, and emotional pain. I gave so much love hoping someone would give it back in a way that made me feel whole.

I tried therapy. I tried affirmations. I kept going. But nothing touched the root.

Then came breast cancer.

Still young, still trying to figure out who I was I was suddenly face-to-face with my own mortality. That illness cracked something open in me. It pushed me deeper into personal development, into faith, into a relentless search for truth.

Eventually, I met a man I thought would be the one. I thought, this is it my happily ever after.
But that relationship ended in emotional abuse that I could never have imagined. I hit rock bottom. I had multiple breakdowns. I didn’t want to be here anymore.

But I had a daughter. And her love that fierce, innocent love kept me alive.

At 40, I finally heard a voice within say: Marsha, this can’t be your story. Something’s not right. Why does this keep happening? Someone told me I needed a more nurturing approach to healing. That one sentence felt like a divine intervention. It led me to deeper work. I discovered inner child healing. Regression therapy. Nervous system repair. I’ll never forget my first session. Four hours long. Afterward, I went home, took a warm shower, and for the first time in my life I felt love. Not from someone else, but from within me. I felt peace. I walked into a place that once triggered my unworthiness a café I used to shrink inside of and for the first time, I didn’t shrink. I belonged. I ordered my breakfast, drank my coffee, and sat there as a woman who knew who she was.

That one session changed everything.

I spent the next year doing deep inner child work, shadow work, and breathwork. It stripped me bare. It brought me home. I eventually left the Cayman Islands and moved to London. I found a certification in Rapid Transformational Therapy and poured all my savings into it. I didn’t just want to heal myself — I wanted to help others heal too.

Now, I sit across from clients and I often see my old self in their eyes.

The woman who didn’t feel chosen.
The little girl who still thinks it’s her fault.
The survivor who’s tired of surviving.

And then I see it happen. The shift.

They rise from a session lighter. Brighter. Liberated.
They cry, they shake, they laugh like something ancient has just let go.

I look them in the eye and say gently, “You’re not five anymore. It’s safe to let it go now. Breathe with me.”
And we breathe.
And we release.

That’s why I do this work.
Because every time someone remembers who they are, I remember too.

You are not broken.
You are not beyond repair.
You are not the worst thing that ever happened to you.

You are worthy.
You are whole.
You are home.

If you’ve been abandoned, betrayed, misunderstood, or broken open by love this Therapy is for you.

— Marsha Anne