About Therapy

The Opening Notes

A melody half-formed.

Every song begins before you know what it is.

A chord that doesn’t resolve.

Our first sessions together are like that: an introduction, not a diagnosis.

We listen for the themes your life keeps returning to, the rhythms you’ve inherited, and the notes you’ve never quite felt free to play.

Learning the Lyrics You Were Given

Long before you could choose your own words, someone else was already writing them.

Family. Culture. Early loss. Early love.

These are the lyrics you learned by heart, often without knowing you were learning.

In therapy, we read them back together. Not to condemn the songwriter, but to hear what was underneath, and to ask whether these words still belong in your song.

You are not broken music. You are a song that hasn’t found its full range yet.

The Difficult Bridge

Every great song has a bridge, a moment where the key shifts, where the comfort of the familiar falls away.

Therapy has this too. There are sessions that feel harder before they feel better.

Grief visits. Old anger surfaces.

The bridge isn’t a detour. It’s where the transformation lives.

You don’t have to cross it alone.

What often comes out on the other side: hearing yourself without judgment, recognizing the recurring themes, rewriting what no longer fits, and finding your own voice.

Finding Your Own Key

The goal of therapy isn’t silence.

It’s a voice that is genuinely yours.

Not performed. Not borrowed. Not shaped entirely by fear or by what others needed you to be.

The song doesn’t end in therapy. It continues. But with each session, you become more capable of composing it consciously.

What It’s Like to Work with Me

I’m not going to nod silently for 50 minutes. I’m not going to reflect your own words back to you like a mirror that only agrees. I have a point of view, and I’ll share it when it serves you.

Therapy with me is a real conversation. I’ll name what I’m noticing, ask the question you’ve been avoiding, and occasionally say something that makes you laugh, because sometimes the most honest thing in the room is funny. I’m an open book. You can ask me anything. I’m human too, and I think the less mysterious I am, the more useful I can be to you.

Our first session is structured but organic. I take notes, I ask a lot of questions, and we try to make it feel less like an intake and more like a conversation. Some people get through it in one session. Some take two. Either way, you’ll leave knowing whether this feels right.