You can expect me to be present and emotionally engaged with you. I may laugh with you, gently challenge you, or become teary-eyed when something deeply meaningful happens. I want therapy to feel professional and safe, but also genuine, connected, and authentically human.

My own experiences of therapy, healing, relationships, and life have shaped the clinician I have become. They've given me a deep respect for the courage it can take to be vulnerable—and for the importance of having that vulnerability met with compassion, curiosity, and without judgment.

I started in the performing arts when I was young, playing wind instruments, singing, and getting involved in contemporary dance and theatre. Dance and theatre took me across the United States. I went on to spend more than twenty years as a portrait photographer. One of my favourite moments was when someone stopped thinking about what to do in front of the camera and I caught a glimpse of their humour, their tenderness, or their strength. I still love those moments in my work today, when someone feels comfortable enough to let a little more of themselves be seen.

I grew up with abuse and often felt like I didn’t have a place where I belonged. At eighteen, I was sexually assaulted. The assault came to public attention through disclosures by multiple survivors in the U.S. sports world. What happened at eighteen reshaped the person I became. At twenty-two, I lost my mother suddenly. Becoming a parent, going through divorce, and getting sober have each shaped me in different ways. Through my own healing, I’ve learned how much it can take to let someone in when you’re used to getting through hard things on your own. I’ve also learned what it feels like to tell someone something painful and feel less alone because of how they stayed with me.

That experience is part of what drew me to Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy (AEDP). There’s a phrase in AEDP, undoing aloneness, that captures something I care about deeply. In a session, it might mean slowing down together when your voice gets quieter as you tell me something important. We might make room for grief you usually move past quickly, or pause to take in the relief of saying something out loud and feeling understood. My training in Somatic Experiencing also informs how I pay attention to what’s happening in your body as we talk and how we find a pace that feels right for you.

I bring warmth, curiosity, and a willingness to be moved by what you share. I’ll be interested in what’s helped you get through hard things, what it’s cost you to carry them, and what you want more of in your life now. There’s room for the moments when you feel something you’ve missed, too, whether that’s ease, affection, or a laugh that takes you by surprise.