About Therapy

Some seek therapy to find solutions to problems.

It’s 8 p.m., and I’m seeing the last client of the day. He was a new client and needed an appointment ASAP. He walks in, sits on the sofa across from me, looks at me directly, and says, “OK, Doc, I need one reason why I shouldn’t leave this appointment and drive my car straight into a tree.”

His wife of 15 years was physically leaving him and his five children for a much younger man. She finished being a wife and mother, and now, he was instantly a single father of children ranging from high school to elementary school with a full-time career that he enjoyed but was a two-hour commute.

He felt rejected, isolated, angry, and in over his head. At this point, there was no time for examining his past experiences. He needed a plan now. Alright. Let’s get into it.

Sometimes, therapy looks like a “rescue mission.” In those times, I am eager to help you find your way out of what seems like trying to escape from a burning building. This type of therapy requires an active, engaged psychologist who will sit with you in your anger, pain, and uncertainty and guide you out of the storm.

Therapy provides time to explore options.

Marcella* had been married for 30 years. Her children were grown and out of the house. She and her partner were never close in an emotional sense but were able to raise the children together into adulthood.

She came to therapy to explore her wants, needs, and desires now that she no longer felt necessary in the way she once did. Marcella questioned whether she wanted to stay married any longer. OK. Let’s figure this out together. There’s no need to rush – you’re on your own time now.

Sometimes, therapy looks like a discovery process, and we explore how you got where you are today. What rules did society make for you that you followed because you thought you had to, and where did you follow your chosen path? How have past experiences formed where you are today, and what narratives do you need to redefine for yourself?

This type of therapy requires your psychologist to be your collaborator by asking essential questions and examining your story with you.

Processing loss and grief work better with therapy.

Kayla* sat in my office crying uncontrollably. Her tears could have formed rivers of pain and sorrow. Her son, her only child, passed when she was eight months pregnant. The immense loss she experienced shook her to the core and took away all the happiness that she had ever felt.

I asked what his name was. She was shocked that I had asked that question, as people generally referred to him as “the baby” or her “pregnancy.” She was a mother who had lost her child, and even though he didn’t live outside of her body, he lived very much inside of her. He had a name, and we called him by his name.

Therapy can look like sitting with you in silence while your heart is wrenching and you can’t stop the flowing tears. Sometimes, it can look like honoring the child that you will never hold in your arms again and calling him by his name. It will be OK. I will wait until your tears have dried and you can speak again. I am here.

Sometimes, therapy looks like holding space for someone who needs to cry and wail while the therapist listens as you release the burden you feel without feeling judged. In those times, I will hold space and walk with you through your grief, allowing you the time it takes to heal without expectations or agendas, just following your lead. When you need a haven, therapy can be your refuge.

Come as you are.

Therapy provides a space where you receive encouragement to be authentic and vulnerable without fear of judgment.

Whether dealing with a significant life-changing issue or a minor distraction, your feelings matter to you, and as such, they matter to me.

As an Integrative Psychologist, I believe there is no one way to help my clients. My job is to use my education and experience to guide you to the healing and clarity you long to have.

None of us have it all together.

I remember a time when I was in graduate school while working with a client suffering from the symptoms of Severe Mental Illness.

While talking to me about those struggles, he looked at me and said, “You wouldn’t understand any of this; you have it all together.” I responded with, “If you only knew.”