What brings people to me
The people I work with are usually the capable ones: conscientious, self-aware, often the one others turn to. Often something has shifted—a change you chose, or one that chose you—and the ways of coping that carried you this far have stopped doing the job. And underneath, there’s an anxiety that has hummed along for years without ever fully explaining itself. Sometimes it has been so constant that you mistake it for your personality: the part of you that anticipates, analyzes, second-guesses, prepares. And you're left looking around at a life that should feel like yours, wondering whether it is.
Then there are the longer costs of being the responsible one: growing up with a parent who couldn't quite see you, learning early that your voice didn't count, getting so good at reading everyone else that your own wants went quiet. You learned to read the room before you learned to listen to yourself. You may see repeating patterns in relationships but can't seem to exit them.
Or you may be carrying a grief that doesn't have a script—including infertility and miscarriage.
And sometimes there's simply the sense that there's more underneath: more honesty, more aliveness, more of yourself.
What we actually do
In practice, the work is conversational, but with a different quality of attention than everyday talk. We follow what matters rather than a script or a workbook. We notice where the old coping shows up, and trace it back far enough to make sense of what it was originally for. You may already understand the pattern intellectually. That doesn't always mean you know how to live differently. Part of what makes therapy different from thinking things through alone is having a place to encounter those patterns as they happen, in relationship, rather than only understanding them in retrospect.
And because the relationship between us is a real one, the patterns that shape your other relationships tend to show up here too. That's not a problem—it's the point: a rare chance to see them up close, in motion, with someone whose only agenda is understanding them with you.
This is also why depth work reaches places that symptom-focused work sometimes can't. Managing a symptom can bring real relief, and sometimes that’s exactly what's needed. But relief doesn't always answer the deeper question. So it returns, or moves, or trades itself for another. Instead of stopping at what hurts, we stay with it long enough to understand what it's for: what it's protecting, what it's been standing in for, what it might be asking you to notice. The anxiety isn't simply something to get rid of. We want to understand the life you've built around it, what it has helped you do, and what it may have cost you.
Over time, the work adds up to something larger: relating differently to the anxiety, to the circumstances you didn't choose, to the people around you, to what you actually value, and to yourself. It’s about finding a way to live more deliberately and meaningfully within the particular life you've been given—and making that life more truly yours.
The frame
There is a particular way of paying attention that runs through my work: we look closely, together, at your experience as you actually live it, and at the older patterns underneath it. The formal name for that frame is existential-phenomenological and psychodynamic. Within that frame I draw on relational, humanistic, and feminist perspectives, tailored to you, not a predetermined sequence of interventions.
Much of the work is exploratory and relational: staying close to what’s happening in the moment, asking the questions that open things up, and making room for what’s hard to say. When it serves you, I draw on other approaches and tools—including ACT, mindfulness, attention to the mind-body connection, parts work, narrative work, and cognitive and behavioral strategies—but I'm less interested in applying a single method than in staying responsive to what a particular person, in a particular season, actually needs. My work is trauma-informed—attentive to how early and developmental wounds, and other kinds of hurt, shape the present.
I also hold that not everything that hurts is a problem inside you. So much of what gets labeled dysfunction is a reasonable response to circumstances that deserve examining—the pressures, inequities, and expectations of the world we live in. Part of the work is discerning what is genuinely yours to change and what you've been asked to carry that was never yours alone. For people who are used to taking responsibility—for themselves, for other people, for keeping things running—that distinction can be surprisingly difficult to make.
I embrace the complexity and ambiguity of human existence. I consider my clients and myself to be in it together, alongside the rest of humanity, but I also deeply respect the singularity of each person's experience, and I'm honored to join people on their individual, uniquely courageous journeys.
What I believe
I believe in the resilience of human beings, and in each person's capacity for self-knowledge and responsible self-direction within sincere and supportive connection. I strive to offer that connection through empathy, attentiveness, genuineness, and acceptance, because the healing, transformational power of the alliance between client and therapist is the cornerstone of everything else.
Therapy with me is a collaborative process. Together we deepen your self-awareness and self-acceptance so you can live more fully and consciously, even in the face of life's inherent challenges, paradoxes, and uncertainties.
Practicalities
Sessions are about 55 minutes, typically weekly, by secure video.
I see adults located anywhere in Washington State.
The first step is to schedule a free 15-minute consultation call.
Have more questions? The FAQ covers what therapy with me is like, what to expect, and how to begin.