The Human Behind The Work

My name is Des Caminos. I'm a visibility coach, a Sacred Disruptor, and a woman who has always believed that expression — free, safe, unapologetic expression — is the most revolutionary act there is.

I live in Fort Collins, Colorado with my husband Kevin — who I met during an improv show in Prague where I was performing, and who has been my biggest fan ever since. We spent seven years building a life in Prague together, and we named our dog Kava after the Czech word for coffee. She's a Staffordshire terrier mix, black as espresso, and sweet as anything — currently following me from room to room now that I'm pregnant with our first baby, as if she already knows.

I was a professional improviser for five years. I traveled. I performed. And then I became Fattyma Cous Cous — my burlesque alter ego — and spent another five years performing and teaching burlesque in Prague, eventually choreographing my own troupe, the Femme Lafels. My most showstopping routine? Eating a burger on stage. Messy, unapologetic, completely mine. Three men approached me afterward to say it changed how they thought about embodiment. I taught them too.

I once owned a Harley Davidson Sportster 883. Long open roads. Wind. Complete freedom. My in-laws had opinions. Marriage happened. The Harley did not survive the negotiation. I miss it in the way you miss a version of yourself that was maybe a little reckless and entirely alive — and I also now have a baby coming, so. The road and I have an understanding.

When I'm not in the work, you'll find me with Kava somewhere nearby, a Paulo Coelho or Kristin Hannah novel in hand, dreaming about hippos (my favorite animal — don't ask, just accept it), and drinking probably too much coffee in honor of the city that made me.

The origin

I'm not here to teach you visibility.
I'm here to return it to you.

Prague, 2018. Two hundred women. A somatic ritual. The air thick with something electric.

For seven years, that was my world — nonprofits, UN Ambassadors, reiki, DBT, professional improv, burlesque stages. Learning, over and over, that magnetic presence isn't scripted. It's surrendered.

Then I came home to the U.S. And hit a wall I suspect you might recognize.

A decade of credibility, wisdom the world needed — and online? The "just post more Reels" playbook felt like violence to my nervous system. I was being asked to translate myself into content. To package the sacred into a format. To perform authority I already carried — quietly, in rooms, in my hands, in the way women felt seen when they were near me.

So I went back to the origin. And I found something the marketing world never told me.