My Story

Hola, I'm Ingrid.

I was born in Los Angeles to Colombian immigrant parents and raised by two strong women: my mom and my abuelita, my Ita. Ita never learned English, so from a young age I became her translator and bridge to the outside world. She taught me what it meant to be buena gente, to care deeply for others, and to never lose sight of family.

Those lessons shaped me, but life had a way of teaching me that caring for others is only part of the equation. Eventually, I would have to learn how to care for myself too.

I was a late bloomer. Shy. Insecure. Always trying to figure out where I fit in. I became the first person in my family to graduate from college and built a career in public health and sexuality education. From the outside, it looked like I had everything together.

But life doesn't always go according to plan.

In 2007, I got married. Thirteen years later, my marriage ended in divorce after infidelity. My ex-husband eventually married the woman he cheated with, and if I'm being honest, that shattered me.

I wasn't just grieving a marriage.

I was grieving the future I thought I was going to have.

I had gained more than 100 pounds during those years. I didn't feel attractive. I didn't feel desirable. I didn't trust myself. I was angry, heartbroken, and completely overwhelmed.

The divorce itself was painful. We weren't kind to each other. The home no longer felt emotionally safe, and I eventually moved out to protect my own well-being.

What surprised me most was how alone I felt.

My sister supported me as best she could, but she was ten years younger and in a very different season of life. My mom's solution was simple: move in with her. What I needed was emotional support, understanding, and someone to help me make sense of what I was going through.

Instead, I felt like I was figuring it out on my own.

At the same time, the professional world I had spent years building was also crumbling beneath me. The peer health program I had poured eight years of my heart into, my baby, was eliminated during a university restructuring. A huge part of my identity disappeared overnight.

My marriage was ending.

My career was changing.

Friendships shifted.

Some people judged me. Others didn't know what to say, so they disappeared.

It felt like my entire world was falling apart.

Finding mental health support wasn't easy, but eventually I found an incredible therapist and psychiatrist who helped me begin putting the pieces back together. Around that same time, one of my closest friends became my anchor. She couldn't fully understand what I was experiencing, but she stayed. Sometimes that's the greatest gift someone can give you.

Little by little, I started exploring parts of myself I had ignored for years.

I found community in places I never expected, including the kink community, where I experienced something that had been missing from my life: acceptance without judgment. For the first time, I had space to explore my sexuality, my desires, my fears, and even my pain without needing to apologize for any of it.

That exploration wasn't really about kink.

It was about reclaiming myself.

I started asking bigger questions.

Who am I outside of a marriage?

What do I actually want?

Do I want children because I truly want them, or because it's what I was taught I was supposed to want?

Watching my younger sister become a mother was beautiful and painful all at once. I was genuinely happy for her while grieving the possibility that motherhood might not be part of my own story.

There were no easy answers.

Only healing.

Slowly, I began choosing myself.

I entered a weight management program. I focused on my health. I learned how to set boundaries. I stopped worrying so much about what other people expected from me and started paying attention to what I wanted for myself.

Then COVID happened. While many people felt trapped, I experienced something unexpected.

Permission.

Permission to slow down.

Permission to be selfish.

Permission to stop performing and start listening to myself.

For years, I had taught students to advocate for themselves, their health, and their sexuality. During that time, I finally started practicing what I had been teaching all along.

And then life surprised me again.

I met someone who became one of the great loves of my life.

He was fifteen years younger than me, which still makes me laugh. I had spent years questioning whether I was desirable, only to find myself with someone who saw me completely and celebrated every part of who I was.

That relationship lasted only two years, but it changed me forever.

For the first time, I felt fully accepted.

I discovered my femininity.

I deepened my understanding of intimacy, desire, pleasure, and partnership.

Most importantly, I learned that I was enough exactly as I was.

Eventually life took us in different directions, but I will always be grateful for what that relationship taught me about myself.

When I later returned to Los Angeles and reassessed my career, I realized something important.

What I missed most wasn't managing programs.

It was helping people transform.

I wanted to sit with people in their vulnerability.

I wanted to help them reconnect with themselves.

I wanted to help them rediscover confidence, desire, pleasure, and possibility.

That's what led me to train in the Somatica® Method and eventually build Viva La Intimacy.

Today, I work with many women who find themselves where I once was: divorced, heartbroken, questioning their worth, struggling with dating, and wondering if healthy love is still possible.

I know that place intimately.

It took me years of trial and error to find my way through.

I wish I had someone who could have helped me understand my patterns, trust my instincts, and move forward with more confidence.

That's why I do this work.

Not because I have all the answers.

But because I've walked the path.

I've learned how to trust my body again.

I've learned how to hear my own needs.

I've learned how to communicate them.

And I've learned that confidence isn't something someone gives you.

It's something you reclaim.

That journey eventually led me to Somatica®, Positive Intelligence®, and the work I do today.

And I'm still learning. Because growth isn't a destination. It's a lifelong practice. As Ita always reminded me: “Mija, la vida es corta. Disfrútala.” Life is short. So let’s live it unapologetically.