I am a master of somatic Internal Family Systems and I can track your nervous system and internal parts with fierce precision — and I’m an ocean witch who channels through a typewriter.
I have space for that heavy gnarly grief you’ve been hiding in your chest, and I hold you as you learn to hold yourself.
If you’ve been told you’re “too much” — Sit down. We need to talk.
I’m going to sit on my degrees and decades of training and experience and hold your hand tenderly or hit you over the head with truth bombs (depending on what you need in the moment), until we awaken your Mother Self — the unshakable anchor of a woman within you who knows exactly what she needs and refuses to apologize for the space she takes up.
I’m in this work with you.
First and foremost, I’m a woman of the arts. I swim playfully in the deep dark sparkling waters of the subconscious, befriending monsters, and timeline hopping. I create with my village in mind because I know what flows through me is the exact, raw medicine our collective is starving for. Permission slips.
about cha
Cha first and foremost is a woman of the arts. She infuses creativity, play, beauty, song and expression into everything she touches. An alchemist of grief. Multi-passionate by nature, she walks women back home to themselves, guiding them toward lives that feel more alive, intuitive, embodied, and whole.
She carries the wisdom of an elder, but the aliveness of the maiden. There is something ancient in her presence, yet deeply playful too… like sea salt on warm skin, bare feet pressed into sand, laughter rising from somewhere honest in the body. If you were to picture her, you might see her perched on driftwood by the sea, yellow bikini, grounded in her body, soft-hearted yet strong-spined. A woman trying to be fully here. And somehow also carrying the feeling of someone who has lived a thousand lives.
Her work centers around what she calls the Mother Self and the Artist Self. The Mother Self is the energy that awakens when a woman becomes regulated enough to hear herself again, when intuition deepens, the body softens, and the womb becomes a place of wisdom rather than disconnection. The Artist Self is the creative current inside all humans, the part that longs to make, feel, imagine, play, express, and live untamed by performance or perfection.
Cha believes that when the Mother Self and Artist Self begin relating to one another, something profound happens inside a woman. She becomes more full circle in her truths. More rooted. More alive. Less fragmented by survival, expectation, or numbness. Her work is an invitation back into that inner relationship.
This is written by her mentor of the last six years, who has guided her closely through parts work, mindfulness, intuition, and womb-centered healing practices, and has had the rare privilege of witnessing the depth, artistry, tenderness, and transformation she brings into the lives of others.
⟡ why choose me as your guide?
I’m a master of somatic Internal Family Systems who has spent a lifetime shedding identities, breaking cages, burning down and starting over from scratch.
My jagged life story wanders through contrasting chapters — spanning multiple careers, marriage, countries, platforms, and spiritual eras.
I set out to live as many lives as possible in one lifetime. I wanted to fall in love a thousand times. Fresh starts turned me on.
It never occurred to me that this free-spirited mission would lead to so much heartbreak. So many beginnings led to so many ends. I left behind so many versions of myself. I’ve been haunted by open timelines.
I set off as a girl entirely devoted to the light and I have become a woman who swims with joy through the deep, sparkling waters of feral grief.
If you are ready to stop suffocating under a single, safe version of yourself and harness the raw power of your own lost sister lives — slip into my world.
READ CHA’S FULL STORY
HOW DID THIS WOMAN BECOME THIS WOMAN?
Evidence (Can I trust her?)
Resonance (Is she like me?)
Transformation (What's possible if I follow her?)
The Many Lives of Cha Wilde
A story about grief, reinvention, and becoming.
I was the new girl in school.
I had tree sap on my knees while drawing bugs in my scientific notebook by the creek in the forest.
I believed life would be sweet like the cottage I dreamed of buying when I grew up. I was never going to mow the grass. I liked it long and I still do. Long and wild in the wind. I believed life was better when we let the wildflowers grow as wild as can possibly be.
I longed for exotic ancient places where stone walls whispers stories that only I paid attention to. I planned for slow travel - growing up one day to move my home from Seattle to Edinburgh, to Paris, to wherever called me next.
But more than adventure, I secretly longed for a warm cozy family that played board games, prayed over dinner and sang together. I wanted to feel wanted by the cute boys in school. I wanted to feel cool and popular. But I was the new girl over and over — chubby, skipping lunch to sit peacefully in the library and converse with teachers instead of my fellow students, who bored me. I survived being different by convincing myself I was special and superior. I escaped into fantasies. I pretended I was a princess from a distant land. I lied a lot to make myself sound interesting, hoping it would make people like me.
What did you long for most?
What were you creating as a child?
What did you know before the world told you otherwise?
Were you always sensitive?
Always artistic?
Always spiritual?
What was your first experience of grief?
What was your first experience of feeling "too much"?