Like most people, I’m always trying to find moments of pause amid life’s demands. Outside of sessions, I recharge with painting, long hikes, and the simple pleasure of a great cup of coffee. That sense of needing to find pause is part of what shaped my path into this work.

Before becoming a therapist, I worked in a high-stress government role. It was meaningful work, and it taught me a lot about responsibility, performance, and pushing through, but I found myself drawn, again and again, to the human side of things: what people were carrying, what they weren’t saying, and how much effort it took to stay composed. Over time, I realized I wanted to make a more direct, day-to-day difference in people’s lives, and to build a life with more intention and control over how I spend my time.

I don’t have all the answers, but I’ve come to realize that slowing down and making sense of what we’re going through can help. I’ve also learned that so much of what weighs on us isn’t always dramatic or obvious. Sometimes it’s the quiet accumulation of responsibility, unspoken feelings, old pressures, and the constant need to keep it together. People have often told me I’m a steady listener, someone they feel comfortable talking to and opening up with, and I try to bring that same grounded presence into the therapy room.