I didn’t take a straight path into becoming a therapist, and I think that shapes the way I show up in this work. Life taught me long before graduate school that people are complicated; survival doesn’t always look pretty, and some of the strongest people you’ll ever meet have chapters of their story they’re afraid will change the way others see them. That’s probably why I tend to connect with people who have never felt completely at home in traditional therapy. You don’t have to clean up your story, choose the right words, or become a more acceptable version of yourself before you walk into the room with me. I’m interested in understanding how you became who you are—not judging you for what it took to get here.

My work is centered around trauma, emotional regulation, and the patterns we develop to survive difficult experiences. I use approaches including EMDR and DBT, along with deeper exploration of attachment, protective patterns, and the parts of ourselves we sometimes prefer to keep in the shadows. I believe insight is important, but therapy should eventually change something outside the therapy room too. As a therapist, I’m curious, direct, open-minded, and deeply human. I’ll sit with you in the hard stuff, challenge you when it matters, laugh with you when it doesn’t, and probably ask you to get curious about the parts of yourself you’ve spent years trying to get rid of. There is very little you can say in my office that will make me clutch my pearls.

Outside of therapy, I’m equally comfortable at a metal show, on a motorcycle, near the ocean, or hanging out with animals instead of people. I’m endlessly curious about the brain, human behavior, and why we become who we become. I believe healing doesn’t require becoming someone new. Sometimes it’s finally getting to know the person underneath everything you had to become to survive.