Jane is an Indonesian native, Maryland-based healing facilitator. A forever student, and someone you might call an embodied inner child — one who has stayed close to the parts of herself that the world usually teaches us to outgrow. That closeness is what makes her work feel different.

She is certified in Kambo by Tribal Detox, Biofield Tuning, and Emotion & Body Code, and is currently completing her ERT certification with Pat Jackman.

There was a version of me that walked into every room like she owned it. Extroverted, energetic, full of life. The one who made everyone laugh, who never met a stranger, who could talk to anyone about anything. That was me — or at least the version of me I showed the world.

Underneath that, I was carrying more than I knew how to hold. It started early. Childhood has a way of teaching you to hold things in before you even know that's what you're doing. By the time I was seventeen I had already learned to numb what I couldn't feel. For nearly two decades, that's how I managed. And for a long time, it worked well enough that I could convince myself I was fine.

Then my body said otherwise.

In my mid-twenties everything started to shift. The energy that had always come so naturally began to disappear. I went from someone who lit up a room to someone who could barely get out of bed. Chronic pain. Gut issues. Anxiety so severe that I would sit in a parking lot for thirty minutes trying to work up the courage to walk into a grocery store — and most days I turned around and went home. The woman who could talk to anyone couldn't order her own food at a restaurant anymore.

I was in and out of hospitals. I saw dozens of doctors. I was handed a fibromyalgia diagnosis and fifteen different medications that made everything worse. Nobody could tell me why I felt the way I did. My labs came back normal. I was told it was in my head. By thirty-one I was bed bound. I couldn't think clearly. I couldn't function. I had lost myself so completely that I didn't want to be here anymore.

But something in me chose to get up.

I stopped all my medications. I started reading, researching, advocating for myself with everything I had. I tried things people laughed at — frequency modalities were giving me answers long before any doctor could, and I was dismissed every time I brought it up. That was before the research caught up. It has since.

I wasn't properly diagnosed with Lyme disease, coinfections, and mold exposure until 2023. My body had been fighting for almost a decade before anyone gave it a name. The alcohol that had numbed me for years had long since stopped working — Lyme, in a strange way, was the thing that finally made me put it down. It stopped me in my tracks. And looking back, that stop saved my life.

What followed was years of learning to listen to my body instead of silence it. Years of trial and error, of slowly piecing together what actually worked. And what I discovered — through my own skin, my own suffering, my own gradual return to myself — is that healing isn't just physical. It never was.

There were emotional rooms I had never entered. Childhood experiences that had taken up residence in my body as pain, as anxiety, as patterns I couldn't break no matter how hard I tried. The connection between what we carry emotionally and how the body responds physically became impossible for me to ignore.

That's when the real work began.

My qualifications are unconventional — years of using my own body as a guinea pig, trying, failing, adjusting, and slowly figuring out what actually works. The certifications came later, to deepen what I had already lived. Every modality I offer is something that found me first, before I ever offered it to anyone else.