To be honest, it started with me just trying to understand myself, my emotions, my patterns, the things I found hard to talk about. I often felt things deeply, but I didn’t know how to make sense of it all. And when I did try to open up, I rarely found someone who would just listen and say, “That makes sense,” or “That sounds really hard.” I think that’s where the journey began. I wanted to be that space for others. A space where people’s vulnerability isn’t dismissed or seen as “too much.” I’ve always knew that we heal better when we’re not doing it alone. Therapy, to me, is about creating a space where someone can show up exactly as they are, and still feel held. No pressure to be okay. No need to have it all figured out. Just room to breathe, feel, and begin.

There are so many things I love about this work, but what excites me the most are those quiet, powerful moments when something shifts. Like when a client says, “This is the first time I’ve said this to someone,” or when they tell me, “I was watching your face the whole time, trying to see if you’d flinch-but you didn’t. You just stayed with me.” Or when someone says, “You’re the first person who didn’t ask why I’m doing this, you just understood.” Those moments stay with me. It excites me when people begin to soften toward themselves. When someone who’s carried shame or self-doubt for so long starts to believe, “Maybe I do deserve kindness. Maybe I’m allowed to be who I am.” I feel incredibly grateful to witness those shifts, no matter how small they may seem. Because they mean something is unfolding. And being allowed to walk alongside someone during that process? That’s the most beautiful part of my work.

I hope that by the end of our first session, something inside them feels a little more settled, that feeling of, “Okay, maybe I can talk about this here.” I want them to feel like they were met with presence and care, without having to explain or justify who they are. That they could bring their truth into the room, and it would be received with warmth. I also try to offer a rough sense of what our time together might look like, what we could begin exploring, and how we might move forward, at their own pace. Not as a rigid plan, but more like a map they can hold loosely. And more than anything, I hope they leave knowing that they don’t have to hold everything alone anymore.

For many of my clients, it can be their first time exploring their emotions or having their feelings validated. I try to gently meet them where they are, and bridge the gap between what therapy is and what they expect it to be. I always tell them that they don’t need to have it all figured out to start therapy. It’s okay to feel unsure or even nervous; just showing up is a big step. I also share what their rights are, like confidentiality and the freedom to set their own pace. I remind them that this space belongs to them. It’s not about fixing anything, but about creating room to feel, reflect, and move forward in a way that feels safe and honest.

I want the relationship to feel safe, steady, and real. A space where they don’t have to filter themselves or worry about being “too much.” They can show up with whatever they’re holding and know I’ll meet them with care, not judgment. For me, it’s about walking alongside them, not ahead. We figure things out together, at their own pace.

That healing doesn’t always look like big breakthroughs. Sometimes, it’s showing up on hard days, being honest for the first time, or just breathing a little easier. working with clients have taught me that even in the middle of deep pain, there’s courage. That trust is slowly built, not given. And that being present can be more powerful than any technique.

One of my strengths is that I can stay with people in their hardest moments, without needing them to tidy it up or make it easier for me. I don’t get uncomfortable with silence or big emotions. I’m okay sitting with it, gently. My clients have told me that they feel understood, even when they don’t have the words yet. I think that comes from listening not just to what’s said, but also what’s felt. And honestly, I try to stay open, to being wrong, to learning, to growing. I don’t have all the answers, but I bring care, honesty, and presence every time I show up.

In my free time, I like watching my comfort shows (the kind I’ve seen a dozen times), cat videos that make me smile, and staring at the sky, especially when I can find shapes and stories in the clouds. I also enjoy cooking when I’m not in a rush, and doing little things that help me slow down and feel more grounded.

My approach is eclectic and rooted in what you need. I don’t follow a set formula- I listen, understand, and choose what might support you best, based on where you are and what you’re carrying. Some days, that means helping you make sense of your emotions. Other days, it’s about working through patterns or just having a safe space to breathe and be. I draw from different approaches like ACT, CBT, trauma-informed and queer-affirmative work but I always keep it flexible and grounded in your lived experience. At its core, therapy with me is collaborative, gentle, and paced around you. We figure it out together, one step at a time.

I try to be the kind of therapist queer and trans clients don’t have to come out to, just be with. No explaining, no defending, just being met with care. I’ve trained in queer-affirmative practices and keep learning through community voices, reflection, and unlearning my own conditioning. I stay mindful of language, pronouns, safety, and intersectionality. I let my clients know that this space is theirs. If I get something wrong, I want to know. Affirming isn’t a checkbox but it’s a practice I’m always growing into.