I think I became a counsellor because of how confusing and lonely certain parts of growing up felt.

School was hard. I often felt out of place, and I didn’t really have the language to explain what I was going through. I spent a lot of time trying to manage things on my own. Looking back, I think I just really needed someone to sit with me, to listen without judgment.

That’s what drew me to this work–to offer others the kind of space I wish I had. A space that feels steady, kind, and honest. :)

I think it’s the small moments: when someone starts seeing themselves with a little more kindness, or when something heavy feels a bit more manageable.

I feel really grateful to witness those small, often quiet shifts. It excites me that this work allows for so much honesty, slowness, and connection. No two sessions ever feel the same, and I’m always learning.

If you’re thinking about starting therapy, it’s okay to feel unsure or nervous. You don’t need to have the “right” words or a clear reason to begin. We can figure things out together, slowly and gently. You get to set the pace, ask questions, and decide what feels okay to share.

Therapy isn’t about fixing you. It’s a space where all parts of you are welcome, even the confused or quiet ones.

I want the relationship to feel honest, warm, and equal. I don’t see myself as the expert on someone’s life. So, I try to make therapy something we figure out together.

I often check in about how things are feeling, and I encourage clients to let me know if something isn’t working for them. We go at a pace that feels right for them, and I try to create a space where they feel safe enough to show up just as they are.

I think one of my biggest learnings has been that it’s okay not to have the right words all the time. Some of the most meaningful moments in therapy haven’t come from what I’ve said, but from just staying with someone through their silence, their overwhelm, or their confusion.

My clients have taught me that presence matters more than perfection and that healing often looks like tiny, quiet shifts, and not dramatic change. I’ve also learned to be softer with myself, to trust that slowness is not failure, and that people carry more wisdom and resilience than they often realise.

I think one of my strengths is being able to sit with people in their most vulnerable moments without rushing to fix things.

I’m good at holding space for emotions- the big, the small, or the confusing-and helping clients make sense of what they’re feeling.

I’m often told that I’m calm and grounded, and that I notice the little things–like a change in tone, body language, or something that wasn’t said out loud.

I also love bringing humour and lightness when it feels right, because I think therapy can hold both the heavy and the hopeful.

I’m especially attuned to how our identities–like caste, gender, or sexuality–shape our emotional world, and I try to hold all of that with care!

In my free time, you’ll often find me singing (occassionally off-key, always wholeheartedly), exploring new restaurants, and then penning my culinary adventures on my little food blog.

I also love caricature drawing, and when I need to come back to myself, I turn to meditation and stillness.

These small joys help me stay connected to creativity, comfort, and curiosity and they are things I try to bring into the therapy space too :)

I see therapy as a space where we gently make sense of what feels heavy, confusing, or stuck together.

My approach isn’t about giving advice or trying to “fix” you, but about understanding your experiences in the context of your body, your emotions, your relationships, and the world around you.

I work in a somatic and emotion-focused way, which means we pay attention to what your body is holding, not just what your mind is saying. I also work from a trauma-informed and queer-affirmative lens, so your safety, identity, and lived experience really matter in the room.

We’ll explore patterns, reflect on what’s helped you survive, and slowly move toward what healing might look like for you.(You in bold)

More than anything, I try to make therapy feel like a space where you don’t have to carry things alone.

I try to make therapy a space where queer and trans* folks don’t have to perform or explain themselves just to feel safe. It’s in the little things–like not giving preset options for pronouns so people can share them in their own words, using gender-neutral terms, and not making assumptions about someone’s identity, relationships, or experiences.

I try to be careful with language, not make assumptions, and stay open to being corrected.

Despite being a Queer Affirmative Therapist, I admit that I’m still learning and unlearning, but I want the space to feel gentle, respectful, and honest–somewhere folks can just be, without having to hold anything back.