About
Coming home to what’s real and meaningful
There was a time when I built my life around the outer world — the pleasure-seeking world, and what was expected by western social structures. I played the roles well: the capable woman, the achiever, the one who had it all together. But that version of “success” came at a cost.
Behind the polished exterior, I was holding too much — emotions, pain, confusion — all hidden beneath a carefully managed mask. Letting go of those roles wasn’t a single moment. It was an unfolding. A slow return to what’s real — and to the version of me that was never lost, just buried.
This is the work I now live and guide others through. Not just therapy — but a return. A return to the self beneath the conditioning. To learn how to ask for what you need without fearing rejection. To feel at home with yourself — even when alone. To belong to yourself, before trying to belong anywhere else.
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I believe much of our suffering comes from trying to maintain identities we created to earn love, safety, and approval. But true freedom doesn’t live in others. It begins when we stop performing and start listening — deeply — to ourselves. When we let ourselves feel what we’ve been running from. When we show up with compassion instead of criticism. When we parent ourselves.
These lessons didn’t arrive all at once. They came through loss. Through relationships. Through the long, honest work of meeting myself again and again — and choosing to stay.
I became a therapist not just because of where I’ve been, but because I believe in the ongoing nature of this work. It’s not about becoming perfect. It’s about returning — to your essence, your truth, your wholeness. As we build inner security, we stop performing and start becoming. That’s where the beauty lives.
I bring to this work a passion for the social sciences and systems thinking — a lens that helps us understand the larger context of our lives. What’s going on inside is mirrored by what’s going on outside. Our relationships are shaped by our inner world.
