Different therapists work in different ways, and fit matters. The therapeutic approach is important, but so does the energy, personality, and style of the person sitting across from you.
I am active, direct, and deeply engaged in the work we do together. I pay attention to what isn't being said as much as what is, and I'm not afraid to point out the patterns, protections, and old stories that continue to show up in places they don't belong. My goal isn't simply to help you understand yourself better, it's to help you experience yourself differently.
At times, our work may look like conversation. Underneath it, we're doing much more than talking, as the relationship itself becomes part of the work. We're creating new experiences of trust, safety, vulnerability, boundaries, and connection. We slow things down so you can spend less time thinking and more time feeling, and experiment with receiving attunement, support, and honest feedback in ways that may feel unfamiliar at first.
Other times, we're pulling from my pretty eclectic toolbox. I've collected a wide range of approaches, interventions, and the occasional exercise that gets a skeptical look before becoming someone's favorite part of therapy. Through these experiences, old wounds can become less present, painful memories can be stored differently in the brain and body, and new ways of relating to yourself and others can begin to emerge.
I've sat with some of the hardest parts of being human and remain deeply moved by some of the softest. While I will fiercely hold the space as we venture into the darkest corners of your story, don't be surprised if I get a little teary listening to a story about your childhood pet. This combination of steadiness and compassion shapes a lot of how I work. There's also usually a healthy dose of humor mixed in. It helps us breathe, find perspective, and remember our humanity in difficult moments.