Many of my clients are people who love hard but lose themselves doing it. The ones who hold it all together—but feel like they’re unraveling inside. The ones who walk on eggshells, over-function, shut down, or blow up—then carry shame for how they cope.
You might have grown up in emotional confusion—over-parented but under-nurtured. You were expected to be mature, accommodating, responsible. It looked like strength. But it didn’t feel like wholeness.
I know that story. I’ve lived both sides of it.
I’ve been the over-giver. The one who couldn’t slow down. The one who caused harm while trying to keep the peace. What changed wasn’t just insight—it was nervous system repair, deep relational work, and integration of the parts I used to push away.
I bring all of that into the therapy room—alongside intensive trainings in EMDR, somatic therapies, polyvagal theory, attachment repair, parts work, family systems, interpersonal neurobiology, trauma-informed PTSD work, and transpersonal healing modalities, such as aquatic therapy, meditation and breathwork. My work is also shaped by recovery, sacred sexuality, shadow integration, and spiritual resilience.
This isn’t surface-level therapy. It’s experiential, nervous-system-rooted, and designed for people who are ready to stop performing and start living in integrity with themselves.
I don’t believe in perfection. I believe in presence. I believe in honest reflection, body-based repair, and the hard-won process of learning how to live from a place of self-trust.
This isn’t just something I offer. It’s something I’ve had to live—and keep choosing.
If you’re tired of pretending, overthinking, or trying to be who everyone else needs you to be—We can do this differently.
Outside the Therapy Room
When I’m not holding space in session, I’m often outside, as barefoot as possible—swimming in cold springs, soaking in minerals, hiking with my dogs, practicing yoga, or lifting heavy things to stay connected to my body. I enjoy my creativity through writing, making a deliciously messy and nourishing feast, singing freely, and laughing loud enough to shake the walls.
I’m still doing my own work—sometimes clumsily, always honestly. I mess up. I circle back. I check my own projections. I ask for feedback. And I return to the practices that bring me home to myself.
I don’t believe therapists should pretend to be perfect. I believe we should model repair, regulation, and real-life self-inquiry. I believe healing doesn’t mean becoming flawless—it means becoming trustworthy to yourself.
So no, I don’t have all the answers. But I’ve walked through enough fire to hold space for yours—with clarity, compassion, and a deep respect for your timeline.
This work isn’t just something I offer. It’s how I live. Let’s talk.
