That curiosity first led me to study criminal justice and political science, then education, and eventually social work. Each step taught me something new, but it wasn't until I became a mother that I realized there was still so much I didn't understand.

When my son began struggling emotionally, I found myself searching for answers that my previous education hadn't given me. I wanted to understand what was happening, how to help, and why we both seemed overwhelmed by experiences we didn't yet have the words to describe.

That search didn't just lead me back to school—it changed the direction of my life.

As I learned more, I realized that behavior rarely tells the whole story. I spent years advocating for my son, working alongside teachers, schools, and other professionals to help them understand that what they were seeing wasn't simply a child who was angry or "bad." Beneath the behaviors was a child trying to communicate needs that weren't yet being recognized or understood.

Those experiences changed the way I see people.

They taught me that curiosity is more powerful than assumptions, that compassion opens doors judgment never will, and that understanding someone's nervous system often changes the way we understand their behavior.

Like many parents, I also had to grieve the expectations I had created about what parenting would look like. Over time, I realized I wasn't grieving my son—I was grieving the story I thought our lives would follow. Letting go of that story allowed me to appreciate, celebrate, and learn from the person he has always been.

As my understanding of my son grew, so did my understanding of myself. Receiving a diagnosis of ADHD and recognizing many autistic traits in myself helped explain experiences I had carried for years without fully understanding. Today, my son often tells me he believes I'm autistic too. Whether that ultimately proves to be true or not, those conversations have become meaningful to both of us because they remind him that he isn't alone—and they remind me that our greatest strength has always been our willingness to keep learning together.

That journey shaped not only the therapist I became but also the philosophy that guides my work today.

I don't believe people come to therapy because they're broken.

I believe people come because they're trying to understand themselves.

Sometimes that means making sense of anxiety, trauma, ADHD, or difficult life experiences. Sometimes it means understanding patterns that have followed them for years. Sometimes it simply means having a place where they no longer have to carry everything alone.

My role isn't to tell you who you should become.

My role is to walk alongside you with curiosity, compassion, and evidence-based care as we work together to better understand your experiences and build a life that fits who you are.

Today, I bring together both lived experience and professional training as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and Doctor of Social Work. My work is grounded in evidence-based practices, but it's guided by the same curiosity that first led me to seek understanding for my own family.

My educational experiences have given me knowledge.

But becoming a mother, advocating for my son, learning to understand myself, and recognizing that different doesn't mean broken—that's what shaped the therapist I am today.

If you've found yourself here, I hope you know you don't have to have everything figured out before reaching out.

Sometimes healing doesn't begin with having the answers.

Sometimes it begins with feeling understood.