My path to becoming a therapist was a winding one. What I once thought of as a weakness turned out to be a blessing: a variety of jobs and life experiences exposed me to people from all walks of life, and I found myself endlessly curious about what makes people tick. But underneath that curiosity was a constant, low-grade sense that something was profoundly wrong with me.

I became adept at pretending everything was fine, and my coping strategies eventually stopped working. I eventually found a therapist who truly saw me. Feeling safe with her allowed me to go deeper than ever before, into trauma and beliefs I’d long suppressed. The nonjudgmental warmth and compassion she offered became the thing I most wanted to offer others.

We are remarkably good at keeping ourselves safe. The beliefs, behaviors, and strategies we develop in difficult environments are often ingenious, even when they no longer serve us later in life. If you find yourself holding on to patterns that once protected you but now feel like they’re holding you back, you’re not broken. You adapted to your world.

I became a therapist because I’m deeply curious about those adaptations: where they come from, what they protected, and what becomes possible when we no longer need them in the same way. I know from personal experience that being met with compassion, curiosity, and acceptance in times of deep vulnerability can be transformative.

I also know that finding the right therapist can feel like a part-time job, which is why I take the question of fit seriously. If you’re wondering whether we might be a good match, I hope you’ll get in touch.