​I don’t love calling myself a therapist, because I’m so much more than that. I’m a daughter, a sister, a partner, a close friend — a quirky, creative, gregarious, serious, particular, imperfect, loving human being.

I do this work because I decided that if I was going to go all in on this life, it had to have purpose. It had to help the little girl in me — it had to feed me. And it does.

This is relational work. It’s imperfect work. But it’s authentic work — and that’s why I stay in it. I show up for people who are ready to meet themselves, to have corrective experiences, and to rediscover joy — not as a fleeting glimpse, but as a daily birthright.

I see myself as a mirror, a confidant, a flashlight shining into a dark room filled with jewels — a lightworker. I’m not a fixer. I’m a problem solver, a lover, an encourager, a creative thinker, and someone who will endlessly root for you — not because I’m supposed to, but because I don’t know any other way.

So thank you, in advance, for letting me be all of that — and for allowing authenticity to be the cornerstone of our work together.

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