Eva started her coaching business, BEAM LiFE International, in 1995. In the beginning, she worked mostly with clients dealing with addictions and abuse. After graduating from New Ventures West coaching school in 2002, she also included Integral Coaching for private and professional individuals who seek success and balance in their lives.
Her journey in Self-Awareness and integral Healing started in 1990 and she has now been in the field of personal development and coaching for 29+ years.
She was Certified as an Integral Coach in 2002, as a Somatic Experience Pracititoner in 2008, and an EmRes pratitioner in 2015.
Coaching with Eva teaches you to become self-aware and resolve non-productive behaviors and habits. You will learn new methods and tools to understand your own true thoughts, feelings, and abilities, and begin to live the life you want.
She has used a multitude of avenues to heal herself and develop her own Body-Mind connectedness and wisdom. Her trainings and personal experiences have created a wonderful mixture of awareness and expertise to support clients who suffer from early childhood trauma, domestic violence, rage, anger, psycho-somatic body pain, anxiety and internal stress, and addictive behaviors of all kinds.
When you choose Eva as your Coach, you have the opportunity to experience the full mixture of her coaching program.
Visit my Training and Qualifications page to read my full list of experience.
Every pressure cooker has a valve that relieves the pressure to keep it even and manageable for the pot, so that the lid doesn’t fly off.
As humans, our valves that release the pressure may be a book, a cigarette, a glass of wine, sex, food, exercise, and the Internet. These valves become a way of releasing pressure, escaping, or numbing ourselves, so we don’t feel too much pressure from the heat, and so that we do not explode, or have our “lid fly off” as in a rage attack, nervous breakdown, or psychotic episode.
Some of us have the luxury of living a life of simmer. These people have support while they get to go to school. They marry. They have a career. They bring children into the world. So they might not need the release valves too often because the heat is manageable. After a stressful day, they may have a glass of wine. Or they may feel the need to exercise or just to “check out from life” with the help of a movie or a book. All are acceptable ways to stay in balance and healthy ways to let off steam.
Others, however, including me, didn’t have that luxury. The heat was turned up very early in life: broken boundaries, neglect, rape, violence. It all makes us need bigger valves. One glass of wine works…until it doesn’t. One turns into two, turns into a whole bottle. But we manage our pressure and pain.
I managed for more than 15 years. Vodka was my valve. I started at the age of 13. I had a glass of red wine. Wow! That felt so good going down. And the best with it was that it numbed out the discomfort in my body.
The jitters, the shaking, the cramp in my stomach, the pressure in my chest, it all got “softer,” it didn’t feel so “sharp” and painful anymore. I quickly learned that vodka worked even better, and used vodka to medicate for the next 17 years.
With no self-esteem, no guidance, no one to talk to, ask questions, no one to teach me how to live, I quickly became “driftwood,” doing what I was told, not knowing I could say no.
Living on my own at 16 made me vulnerable and accessible to those who knew how to manipulate a fragile teenager. I don’t remember choosing a boyfriend, I just ‘became’ somebody’s girlfriend. Domestic violence was a common ingredient, and I learned early to do what I was told...or else! I woke up in places that create more shame. More shame calls for more alcohol. It was just hurting too much to stay sober.
Starting drinking at 13 robbed me of any chance to learn social skills or how to deal with friendships or intimate relationships. I became a loner, socially awkward, and kept on drifting. I drifted all the way to the USA.
Rape is such a strange word. The dictionary says: ‘The crime of forcing another person to submit to sex acts, especially sexual intercourse’. Mmm, if that was all, it wouldn’t have been so bad. How about ‘the crime of drilling a hole into a woman’s body and mind so that she becomes incapable of recognizing abuse even when it’s glaring her in the face’. How about ‘the crime of peeling off the inside of a woman’s heart and soul, so that she is left with ripped integrity and incapable of recognizing self-worth or self-respect’.
Without those two ingredients in your character, you’re doomed…like I was… to live a life of repetition…of abuse and trauma…like Groundhogs day. Truly, I would wake up without wanting to wake up, hoping it was just a dream and today would be different. The rape set me up for another 17 years of Groundhog days, violence…the perpetrators changed name…the story was the same.
By the time I got to America, 1983, I was 25; a woman with an emotional IQ of an 8 years old girl; ripped of any sense of worth, desperately trying to stay numb, and primed for more abuse. I got more! This one was the dangerous type, an outlaw and wife beater. I actually married this one. I became his ninth wife. ‘Your wife cannot testify against you’ was an old law that ran Jack’s decisions to marry every woman he spent time with. Once again I did what I was told and married. It could make me legal in America.
Recognize the facts’, they told me, it always gets worse!! Funny, how everybody knew…just that I didn’t see how that applied to me. After 5 years with Jack, there wasn’t much left of me. He would say, If you didn’t make me so f-ing mad, I wouldn’t have to beat you. I would think, how can I not make him so mad?
But one day he had ‘that look’ again and came toward me. Something snapped inside, I waved my arm and landed an elbow in his eye. He dropped me and the time stopped, I felt nothing, I was ready, to go.
There was a weird feeling in the air, he stared me down. I had no fear, no shakings, absolutely numb as if I wasn’t even there at all. It was an amazing feeling, nothingness!! How I wanted that…nothingness. Go ahead, Jack. He didn’t. It wasn’t worth another trip to jail.
So I was on my own, homeless, tired, confused, and broke. It’s amazing how loneliness can consume a person.
Events moved me to get another bartending job, a ‘friend’ to share an apartment with, and drifting down the river. I had a neighbor, a nice guy, who didn’t believe in beating women. I fascinating man. We became friends, drinking partners, and one day he told me to marry him. Being used to do what I was told...I did.
I started to feel when we decided to stop partying. By then I had been drinking for 17 years. Drinking was my valve. I had been “fine” as long as I was drunk, now all hell broke loose. I started to feel all the reasons why I drank.
10 months into sobriety the pressure in my cooker became unmanageable. And…the lid flew off.
My lid flew off that day in 1990 when we had to turn off the life support for our daughter Kristina.
When I held her on my shoulder, my whole body calmed down; no shaking, no pressure in my chest, no stomach cramp, no bee swarm of thoughts in my head, no feeling of choking in my throat, no feeling of panic, or “he’s gonna get you.”
I felt at peace, relaxed, calm, and so in love.
Just like after a double shot of vodka.
She was like a drug. I loved the feeling I had when I held her. And I hated the feeling I had when we had to turn off the machines.
I had 10 months of sobriety when Kristina died. I had pretty much been drinking or thinking about drinking since I was 13.
I was one of those survivors from a “very friendly male member of the extended family”…you know who I mean.
Then I sobered up, got pregnant and had Kristina. And now, she was dead.
I knew that there was no booze in the world that could take that pain away.
When the lid flies off, everything that has ever happened seems to come with it. The heat is on, and it feels as though there are too many bubbles, too many “issues”, too much to handle.
I studied my bubbles for 15 years with psychotherapy, breath work, non-violent communication classes, and workshops of all sorts that could help me calm down.
My husband and I had two more children, and they paid a big price for having me as their mother. I remember starting to feel my shakes, putting the girls in front of the TV, making sure they had something to eat, all the while thinking, “Hurry! Hurry! It’s coming on.”
When the girls were situated, I got a towel, crawled up into the corner of their room and screamed into the towel, pure, raw panic. Raw fear. The girls would turn around and ask, “You okay, Mommy?” And I would whimper “Sure, Honey, Mommy just has a little tummy ache.
I had no idea how to be a mom and how to keep my girls alive! I knew how it felt to lose a child, and I was not going through that again, at any cost. That desperation turned me into an overprotective, fearful, reactive mother.
I desperately looked for a way to become a better person, a better mom, a better wife, a better friend, a better whatever. The saying you hear in the recovery community – “At least I am not drinking” – was not enough for me. Being clean and sober must mean more than “being clean and sober”.
In the world of BEAM LiFE “clean and sober” includes compassion, love, and kindness, things I knew nothing about.
One day, I picked up my child in anger and “threw her in bed”. At that moment I had a vision that her neck broke; just a picture flashing by.
Scared out of my mind, I dropped to the floor in yet another panic attack.
That day I stormed into my therapist’s office and demanded to know why she had not offered me medication.
What she said put me on the journey I am on now.
That’s when I understood that MY healing had to come from my core.
I had to find a way to deal with the weather.
After a total of 16 years of researching, studying, begging, and trying, I stumbled upon a book called Waking the Tiger by Dr. Peter A. Levine. It changed my life.
The book was talking to people like me. He explained trauma. And I thought, “Trauma? Could it be that I have had trauma?” Sounds a little dramatic don’t you think?
He talked about trauma survivors. Wow! Could that be me?
Maybe I wasn’t crazy! Maybe I didn’t need to be medicated…or locked up. Maybe I was injured, and I could be healed!
Hope…that magical oxygen that gets you out of bed in the morning. Hope…that magical sensation and feeling in your body that can lift you out of depression. I didn’t have to just survive. I could live.
I had one session and felt as if I had come to, as if I had emerged from living in a fog.
Dr. Levine’s model for somatic experiencing involved three years of training. I knew I needed more and took the training. It changed my life. It saved my marriage. It saved my relationship with my children.
It wasn’t until I stumbled onto Peter Levine’s book Waking the Tiger that I realized there was yet another way to heal…beyond talking about it.
It has been a wonderful experience for me to find a way to live that includes self-awareness, self-control, and self-love.
Twenty-nine years of healing have resulted in clarity of who I am, confidence in what I do, and courage to be…me.