
Topics
Chronic Pain/ Illness

Society doesn't do a very good job of helping women understand that chronic pain and chronic illness come with a massive, ongoing grief. Grief for the body you used to have. Grief for the plans that had to change. Grief for the version of yourself that didn't have to fight this hard just to get through a day.
And on top of that grief, there's often another layer of pain — the times you tried to explain to someone in your life, or even a medical professional, that something was wrong. That you were feeling a certain way. And they didn't understand. Or worse, they didn't believe you. This happens constantly with conditions like endometriosis, PCOS, heart disease, autoimmune disease, thyroid disorders, and ADHD, where women are routinely dismissed or misdiagnosed for years before anyone takes a real look.
That leaves a mark. It changes how you trust your own body, your own voice, your own experience. And that's a wound I want to help you work through. I want to be your witness. I believe you. I trust you. I hear you.
Together, we'll work through the pain and the trauma — but we'll also work toward something more: the balance of honoring exactly how you feel and building resilience on the days you can. Finding gratitude in the tiny places it's still available to you. Moving away from a relationship with your body that feels like a war, and toward one that feels more like a partnership.
As women, we are so smart. We learn what role to play to keep the peace. What role to play to keep from being left. What role to play to feel safe. And we play that role — sometimes for years — but somewhere in the process, we lose ourselves. We morph into someone who exists to be useful to another person, rather than someone who gets to simply be.
And then, one day, your eyes open. The dust settles. You start to see the relationship for what it actually was — so much different than what you thought it was.
That moment can be overwhelming. Terrifying, even. It's often accompanied by shame, or embarrassment, or the aching question of how did I not see this sooner?
If that's where you are right now, I want you to know: you're not stupid, and you're not alone. I want to sit across from you in that place and validate what you're realizing, love you through it, support you, and guide you as you find your way back to yourself.
Narcissistic Abuse Recovery

Religious Trauma
So often, we're raised in environments where we aren't really given a choice. We're told what to believe before we're old enough to know what believing even means. Sometimes the information is conflicting. Sometimes it's confusing. And sometimes — more often than anyone wants to admit — we're put in uncomfortable, even abusive situations, where the power imbalance between adults and children, leaders and followers, gets baked into everything we're taught to call faith.
Then we grow up. We become adult women looking back at the environments we were shaped by — the beliefs we were handed, the rules we didn't question because we didn't know we were allowed to. And we start to notice the gap between what we believed then and what we actually believe now.
That gap can be massive. It can feel identity-shattering. Especially when abuse or unhealthy relationship dynamics were part of what we were taught to call normal — or worse, sacred.
If you're in that gap right now, you're not alone, and you're not broken for questioning something you were once told was unquestionable.
I like to ask my clients this question, and I mean it seriously: who do you think you are? No, really — who are you? Who are you outside of the messages you were sent growing up?
Society, religion, your family, your friends, school, and culture — you were inundated with instances of being told who you are and who you're not, long before you had any say in the matter. And it's usually not until late adolescence, early adulthood — sometimes middle or later adulthood — that we start to reflect back and ask: do I even know myself? How well do I actually know myself? Which of these messages about who I am do I agree with — and which ones do I want to light on fire and throw in the trash?
Tied into all of this is the concept of self-love. I know it can feel like an abstract, out-of-reach kind of phrase, the thing people say without really explaining what it means or how to get there. But it doesn't have to stay abstract. I help my clients take actionable steps toward genuinely loving themselves.
Because when we move through life with a strong identity — a solid sense of self — we're just stronger, period. The little storms of life don't knock us off course the way they used to.
Self Concept

ADHD

I have so many clients with ADHD — and I have ADHD myself, which means this is a topic I genuinely love talking about.
Here's something I like to point out: who named this thing, and why did they name it that? "Attention Deficit" implies a lack — like you're not paying attention to enough. But that's not what's actually happening, at least not for the vast majority of my clients. ADHD isn't about paying too little attention. It's about paying attention to everything — all at once, all the time — until it becomes completely overwhelming.
Of course, ADHD shows up differently for everyone. But so often, what I see is task paralysis, time blindness, and this sense of being flooded by your own awareness of everything happening around you.
I'm not going to reach into a box of Band-Aids, pull out the "ADHD Band-Aid," and slap it on you. That's not how I work, and honestly, it's not how ADHD works either. I meet you where you are — with what your ADHD actually looks like, not what the textbook says it should look like.
Women come to me so confused by what a panic attack even is. And that confusion makes sense — panic attacks are such a deeply somatic process. One of the wildest things I learned in school is that one of the hallmark characteristics of a panic attack is the very real, very physical feeling that you are going to die. That's not dramatic. That's not "in your head." That's your body.
Which is exactly why healing from anxiety and panic can't just live in your head either. If we're going to make real progress with something this physical, the body has to be part of the process — not an afterthought. When we build coping skills together, we build them with your body in mind, not around it.
Anxiety/
Anxiety Attacks

Attachment Style
Social media has packaged and presented attachment as if every person has one single attachment style — the end. That could not be further from the truth. Our attachment styles vary because our relationships vary. You probably show up completely differently with friends than you do with family, and differently again with romantic partners. That's not a contradiction — that's just how attachment actually works.
Is having a secure attachment style a nice goal? Sure. But the real work isn't about slapping a label on yourself and calling it done. It's about understanding why you show up the way you do in your different relationships — and figuring out which of those patterns are actually serving you, and which ones you might want to change.
Depression doesn't look the same for everyone. For some, it feels heavy — like wading through wet sand just to get through a normal day. For others, especially depending on what kind of childhood you had, it can show up disguised as something else entirely: laziness, apathy, "just being tired all the time." You might not even recognize it as depression because it doesn't look like the version you've seen in movies or heard described by other people.
Wherever it shows up for you, and however it disguises itself, I want to help you understand what your particular depression looks like — and find your way back out of it.
Depression

Grief
Grief is messy. It's not clear-cut, and it doesn't follow a timeline no matter how many stages someone tries to assign to it. It can be all-encompassing — the kind of thing that makes daily functioning feel impossible, even when you're "supposed" to be fine by now.
And grief happens for so many more reasons than just death. Sometimes it's the loss of a relationship, a version of yourself, a future you thought you'd have. Sometimes it's a loss other people don't even recognize as a loss — which means you end up in the exhausting position of trying to convince the people around you that what you're feeling is valid in the first place.
Grief is incredibly nuanced. I understand that, and I won't ask you to make it make sense before we start working through it.
Trauma
Trauma can be hard to define. We know that some people have preverbal trauma, meaning that sometimes the traumatic event or experience happened even before they were old enough to express and understand what happened. It is sometimes defined as a situation that overwhelms our capacity to cope.
We also know that what is traumatizing for one person may not be for another. The field of counseling and psychology does not have a one size fits all definition for trauma. There is a difference between trauma that occurred by willful intent by another person versus an accident or catastrophe. I tell my clients if something felt traumatizing to them then it was. Full stop. I am a safe space for my clients to explore on their timeline what may have been or still be traumatizing to them.