about
Phoenixx
Certified Yoga Teacher, Pilates instructor, Self-Love and Sexual Wellness Coach, specialized Massage Therapist, Mompreneur, Soulfuencer and DJ.
I’m a woman of many layers, and I bring and blend all of my skills into my work.
I believe in manifestation and grit.
Magic and discipline.
Softness and strength.
Because building a life you’re obsessed with doesn’t happen by accident — it happens through intention, devotion, and showing up for yourself consistently.
i cooked my sauce ...
February 2026, my life cracked open.
The kind that splits you down the middle and asks,
“Who the fuck are you now?”
In the span of what felt like minutes — but was really a slow, unraveling spiral — I blocked a man I had been in an on-again, off-again toxic situationship with for ten years. Ten. Fucking. Years. A decade of almosts. A decade of hoping he would choose me the way I kept choosing him. A decade of shrinking, stretching, performing, forgiving, looping, bleeding, loving, unloving, and trying again. Literally going against my self-worth.
Blocking him was not dramatic. It was devotional. It was the first time I chose myself without negotiation.
And almost simultaneously, I walked away from my dream job. The job that was perfect on paper. The job I had worked toward for 2 years. The job that validated me. The job that made sense out loud. But the starting date coincided with the day I prepared for what was about to change the course of my life forever.
My mother passed away. That was a fucking cherry on top. Losing my mom stripped me to my core. Grief has a way of removing all performance. It asks you who you are when the world stops. When the relationship ends. When the title disappears. When the person who knew you before the world touched you is no longer here.
Heartbreak from love.
Heartbreak from career.
Heartbreak from death.
All within weeks.
my WTF became my WHY
From the ashes — something sacred emerged:
I realized I could either collapse … and I know that leads to meaningless sex, binge-eating, isolation, depression and dark consuming, overpowering thoughts that lead to self-sabotage.
OR
I fucking rise. I come home to myself.
That is how the www.self-love-sauce.com container was reborn in me.
A survival guide.
A devotion practice.
A self-love ritual.
My certifications are 5+ years old. This framework is not AI psychology.
This is real-real embodiment.
I asked myself:
What would have saved me ten years ago?
What would have helped me leave sooner?
What would have supported me through grief without abandoning myself?
What practices would anchor a woman when everything falls apart?
let her cook
THE ANSWER BECAME MY METHOD
The workins and the workouts.
The embodiment and the inquiry.
The truth-telling and the tenderness.
I learned something brutally honest: you cannot think your way into self-love. You have to practice it.
Daily. Devotionally. Especially when you don’t feel like it.
That’s why I created HOMECUM'ING: self-love workbook for baddies.
The rituals are simple on purpose, with purpose.
Breath. Body. Boundaries. Pleasure. Intention.
When my world collapsed, mornings were the hardest. I would wake up and for a split second forget — then remember everything. The breakup. The job. My mom. And the grief would hit like a wave.
The rituals became my lifeline.
Before I checked my phone.
Before I checked on anyone else.
Before I spiraled.
I checked in with me.
my mourning routine became my morning routine.
That is what I embody & teach now:
PRACTICE > PERFECTION
DEVOTION > DISCIPLINE
AUTHENTICITY > APPROVAL
For years, I diluted myself to be digestible. I softened my truths so I wouldn’t intimidate. I silenced my sensuality so I wouldn’t be misunderstood. I made myself convenient in love. I made myself impressive in work. I made myself strong in grief.
None of that shit anymore.
I will speak the things women whisper in club bathrooms and pencil on journal pages. The raw. The erotic. The grieving. The angry. The rebuilding. The choosing-yourself-even-when-it’s-lonely parts.
Because the truth is: my heartbreak liberated me.
Finally blocking him taught me boundaries are not punishments — they are protection.
Letting go of my dream job taught me identity is not your title.
Losing my mom taught me life is too fragile to live half-chosen.
I am no longer interested in coaching women how to be more palatable.
I am here to guide women back to their bodies, their standards, their grief, their pleasure, their truth.
my favorite things . . .
1
My milfy morning routine. I make such a big deal about it because it's literally my daily devotion and I love remembering who tf I am. Sipping on a good cup of coffee (magic potion) brings me immense joy.
2
Being with and around my family & best friends. Laughing till our stomachs hurt, and crying until we really feel better. The sharing. The caring. The unhinged conversations. This is therapy.
3
The kind of bubblebaths you see on Pinterest. Hottt water, bubbles, a bomb, bath oil, salts, flowers, candles, music, your own naked body ...
4
Juicy, messy sex - when emotional safety meets raw desire — when two bodies move in sync with breath and intention, where eye contact lingers, hands explore with curiosity, laughter blends with moans, time dissolves, and pleasure feels less like performance and more like a sacred, uninhibited surrender to connection and aliveness.
5
F.R.I.E.N.D.S. It's been over 22 years of binge-worthy laughs. I mean, could I be more obsessed?
6
A few-days music festival with like-minded people. There is something special, and always life-changing about going on a wholesome trip. Keeping my inner-child happy is a top priority.
7
Chocolate. Dark and bitter.
I know what it feels like to abandon yourself slowly.
I know what it feels like to lose everything at once.
And I know what it feels like to rise because you finally chose yourself.
If my pain can become someone else’s permission…
If my devotion can become someone else’s blueprint…
If my grief can become someone else’s courage…
Then every tear was alchemy.
This is not content.
This is lived experience.
This is not branding.
This is embodiment.
This is my homecoming.
And if you are here, reading this, perhaps it’s time for yours too.
MY FAVORITE PART OF THE GAME IS THE OPPORTUNITY TO PLAY.
THE I CUM FIRST™ MOVEMENT
The i cum first™ movement, modalities and audacious merch is created for baddies who are horny for deeper self-devotion.
No joke. Not as a gimmick. As a way of living.
Self-love is not bubble baths and pretty affirmations.
It is ...
• having standards
• honoring your boundaries
• feeling safe and powerful in your body
• choosing yourself again and again
When a woman learns to put herself first, everything changes.
Her relationships.
Her confidence.
Her pleasure.
Her life.
This is the work.
Through coaching, movement, and self-devotion practices, I help women reconnect with their body, their truth, and their power.
