About Me

For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me.

I struggled with people-pleasing, insecurity and a constant fear of being disliked or rejected.

I avoided conflict because it felt safer to deal with my discomfort later than to risk someone being upset with me in the moment.

I said yes automatically, even when I didn’t want to — then figured out how to live with it afterward, overextending myself or telling myself it “wasn’t a big deal” when it actually was.

I stayed in relationships and friendships where I caught myself changing how I spoke, what I asked for, or what I admitted wanting — lowering my voice, adding qualifiers, backtracking — because being misunderstood or judged felt worse than staying quiet.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I wasn’t weak or broken.

I had learned to survive.

People-pleasing wasn’t my personality.


It was what I learned to do when speaking up felt risky — when it felt easier to disappoint myself later than to risk disappointing someone else in the moment.

That pattern had been there since childhood, but it intensified in my first real relationship and marriage.

Over time, I felt drained and irritated — my needs weren’t being met and speaking up still felt unsafe.

From the outside, everything looked fine.

On the inside, I was losing touch with my own preferences — what I wanted, what bothered me, what I needed — because it felt easier not to rock the boat.

Eventually, that turned into lowering my standards and convincing myself it was “good enough.”

I stayed in that marriage because losing connection felt riskier than living with unmet needs.

When that marriage fell apart, it forced me to look at every relationship in my life — not just that one.

I started asking myself questions I couldn't ignore anymore:


Why were they all one-sided?

Why did I keep tolerating things that didn’t feel okay?

And why was I more worried about how I came across than how I was being treated?

How I Healed

I’m Kala Myles, founder of One Up Your Level.

And for years, I lived inside the same survival pattern I now help women understand.

I didn’t heal in therapy — not because therapy isn’t valuable, but because it wasn’t the path I took.

I healed by learning how the brain works, how survival patterns form and how identity gets shaped in relational environments.

I became a certified life coach, studied psychology and mindset work independently and began applying what I was learning inward, without shaming myself.

I learned how to stop living on edge around other people.

How to notice what I actually wanted before agreeing to things.

How to sit with the discomfort of disappointing someone — without abandoning myself just to make it go away.

I didn’t just learn this intellectually — I lived it, practiced it and let it reshape how I related to myself and others.

That work changed my life.

I stopped minimizing my needs and who I was just to be accepted.


I stopped needing to be understood by everyone because the moment I understood myself, that stopped mattering.


I stopped staying where reciprocity was missing.


I stopped confusing self-abandonment with love.

For the first time in my life, I felt grounded, clear and at peace.

Why I Do This Work

Today, I help women who recognize themselves in that pattern.

Women who are emotionally intelligent and self-aware, but exhausted from adapting and living in response to other people’s moods, reactions, or expectations.

Women who are no longer in crisis but still carry habits learned in emotionally unsafe environments.

Women who are tired of people-pleasing, self-doubt and one-sided relationships and are ready to take responsibility for changing those patterns.

I don’t help women “fix” themselves.

I help them understand why they learned to lower their voice, qualify their needs and backtrack — in conversations, relationships and decisions where saying what they actually needed once felt risky and how to come back to themselves without guilt, fear, or shame.

This work is about identity, self-trust, boundaries and choice, not digging endlessly into trauma.

Important Boundaries

I want to be very clear about what this work is and what it is not.

I am not a therapist, psychologist, or medical professional.


I don’t diagnose, treat, or process acute trauma.

This work is not for women who are currently in physically or emotionally unsafe environments, in crisis, or needing clinical mental health support.

If that is where you are right now, you deserve professional care and protection first.

I work with women who are safe enough to reflect, self-aware enough to take responsibility and ready to stop needing other people’s approval or permission just to feel okay with themselves.

If you’re looking for someone to rescue you, fix you, or validate staying in unhealthy dynamics, this work is not for you.

If you’re ready to understand your patterns, rebuild self-trust and choose differently, you’re in the right place.

My Values

My work is grounded in a few values I didn’t always live by — I learned them the hard way.

Authenticity over adaptation.
I spent years shaping myself to fit the room instead of asking whether the room fit me.

Reciprocity over self-sacrifice.
I gave more than I received and called it being caring, even when it left me depleted.

Integrity over image.
I looked “fine” on the outside while ignoring what didn’t feel right on the inside.

Self trust over external approval.
I learned to prioritize keeping others comfortable before checking in with my own needs.

Living without these values came at a cost.

That’s why I don’t stay in environments that violate them and I don’t help clients learn how to tolerate what slowly wears them down either.

These values weren’t ideals I started with.

They were shaped by years of adapting, overgiving and staying quiet in places that asked too much and gave too little.

This Might Feel Familiar

You don’t always say no — you dodge.


You make excuses, stay busy, change the subject, laugh it off and do anything that avoids a direct refusal.

You agree to plans you already know you’ll regret. Sometimes you cancel later. Sometimes you go anyway and feel resentful the whole time.

You’ve let other people decide things that should have been yours to decide — where you live, how money gets spent, what you’re doing for holidays, birthdays, trips, even major life choices because pushing back felt harder than going along.

You over-give at work, with friends, with family — helping, fixing, covering, staying late, then feel irritable, depleted, or checked out when you’re finally alone.

You feel resentful that your needs aren’t understood — while also feeling scared to say them out loud, because you’re used to them being minimized anyway.


You question yourself instead of questioning the dynamic.

You know something about this isn’t working anymore.


But saying no still feels risky.


And you’re not sure who you are without always adapting to others.

Nothing is wrong with you.

These patterns didn’t arise from weakness or selfishness.


They came from learning that keeping the peace mattered more than being fully yourself.

Now you get to learn what it feels like to pause before saying yes and trust yourself enough to choose differently.

That’s the work we do here.

If you’re ready to step out of the survival role that kept you saying yes and start living from self-trust, clarity and internal safety, you’re welcome here.