Meet Diana
Diana Firth is a leading simplicity expert, author, and intuitive coach who helps others clear the emotional, mental, and energetic clutter standing between them and a life of clarity and purpose. She’s the author of Love Doesn’t Pay the Bills and the founder of Simplify with Di — a soul-led company devoted to helping others reconnect with their true path.
With a background in counseling and over a decade of experience in transformational work, Diana guides clients beyond surface-level fixes and into the deeper layers of what keeps them stuck. Her teachings around physical clutter are not about organizing — they’re about understanding the energetic weight our spaces carry, and how clearing the outer can lead to profound inner shifts.
What began as a career in hands-on decluttering evolved into something much more powerful:
a calling to help others release complexity, rewire scarcity thinking, and return to themselves.
Simplicity, as Diana teaches it, is not just practical — it’s spiritual.
It’s a radical act of self-love and a pathway to true abundance.
That’s why Diana often says, Simplicity is an act of love.
Whether you're navigating a life transition, craving mental clarity, or ready to realign with your purpose, Diana's approach invites you to simplify from the inside out.
“Simplicity is an Act of Love”
Her Story
Before I became a simplicity expert, intuitive guide, and author, I was a woman buried under clutter — not just the kind you trip over, but in my mind, my relationships, and the stories I told myself about who I needed to be.
I was diagnosed with ADHD in second grade — back when support looked more like multiple trips to the principal’s office. I barely graduated high school. I didn’t go to college until I was 24, and even then, I worked full-time as a counselor while trying to figure out who I was under all the noise.
After college, I stayed in counseling for a few years. I made less than my debt and gained more stress than job satisfaction— and eventually decided that if I was going to be broke, I might as well do it in heels. So, I packed up my hope, my hustle, and moved to New York City with no plan and $500. Because… why not?
And NYC? It was magic.
I landed a job at a hedge fund and made more money than I knew what to do with — so naturally, I spent it all on stilettos and soul-searching. I was fully committed to my role as the ADHD version of Carrie Bradshaw — minus the book deal, and a lot more internal chaos.
I had the heels, the skyline views, and a Zagat guide folded into my Prada nylon mini bag. I danced until sunrise, blew through paychecks, and saw enough Broadway shows to earn honorary cast credits. I wasn’t chasing purpose — I was chasing dopamine, clearance racks at Barneys, and just one more night that felt like something.
I was living a dopamine-fueled dream — chasing novelty, validation, and whatever felt like “enough” for five minutes. What I didn’t know was that I was also chasing regulation I never learned, masking a diagnosis I never faced, and spending money to quiet a nervous system that never got the memo to relax.
But behind the sparkle was a soft ache — one I couldn’t dress up or drink down. I had success. I just didn’t have purpose.
When that job ended, I moved back to Virginia — glittery on the outside, lost on the inside.
That’s when I met my fiancé. He was brilliant, loving, and in pain I couldn’t reach. I tried to fix him, which really meant I was avoiding fixing myself. We were engaged, but depression (his) and denial (mine) were the real partners. I drank to cope. He used to disappear. The wedding never happened. He eventually died by suicide.
Not long after, I found myself in another relationship — the one that changed everything. It ended like most heartbreaks do: me in a puddle of tears, unsure of what came next. But then he said it.
“Diana, love doesn’t pay the bills.”
It wasn’t kind.
It wasn’t compassionate.
But it was the switch.
That one sentence sparked something I didn’t even know was there.
It flipped the power back on.
And from that puddle, I started my business — with no money, no home, and nothing but the deep knowing that I had to do this on my own.
With my tiny sidekick Chloe (an 8-pound Maltese with the soul of a lion) by my side, I began Simplify with Di. No roadmap. No safety net. Just intuition, grit, and a fierce desire to prove I was enough.
Here’s the truth: I thought I was helping people organize their homes.
What I was really doing was helping them reorganize their lives.
Every time I walked into someone’s space, I began receiving intuitive downloads — insights that helped shift not just their stuff, but their stories.
That’s when I blended my counseling background with my spiritual gifts and turned what I thought was a business into a calling.
Then the universe handed me the syllabus for Grief 101.
My brother died of brain cancer
My childhood best friend passed a year later
Two of my mentors and dear friends died suddenly
And Chloe — my heartbeat in fur transitioned to her next phase in the universe.
And then… there was Victor. My soulmate in oversized sunglasses. A spiritual sage in Gucci. The only person who could cry with me during a deep intuitive breakthrough and still remind me which blazer was best for my brand. He saw me in ways most people never did — and losing him cracked me all the way open.
Grief didn’t just crack me open.
It stripped away everything that wasn’t real — and what was left was me.
Clear. Grounded. Reconnected to my spiritual roots. A woman who remembers who she is.
Turns out, I didn’t fall apart — I finally came together.
And when I did, I transformed my business into deep, restorative work — blending energy healing, intuitive guidance, and the same soul-led tools I used to rebuild my life from the inside out.
And yes, I even wrote the book on it — Love Doesn’t Pay the Bills — a story of unraveling, remembering, and rising.
MY PROMISE TO YOU