MY JOURNEY AND APPROACH

I didn’t come to therapy because I had a clear plan to become a therapist. I came because things stopped making sense.

As a college freshman, I went to one of those schools you’re supposed to go to—the kind that promises opportunity, prestige, a certain kind of future. It was a small liberal arts college in New England, smaller than my high school, filled with students who since birth were groomed to be there.

I remember asking my roommate if she was struggling academically like I was. She said she wasn’t, because it felt like high school. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but I soon realized that there was a divide between people like me and people like her.

Not only could I not hack it in my classes, but I aslo felt completely out of place. It was hard to make friends and find community. I tried to make it look like I was keeping it together, but inside I was deeply overwhelmed, unsure of myself, and questioning my identity.

That’s when I brought myself to the counseling center and went to therapy for the first time.

It was uncomfortable. A little strange. Not something I immediately understood.
But it stayed with me.

Over the years, I came back to therapy again and again—during difficult relationships, complicated family dynamics, injuries, transitions, and moments when life felt harder than I could think my way through. Each time, I learned something new—not just about my circumstances, but about how I function. How I respond. Because I didn’t grow up in a home where communication, regulation, or conflict were modeled in a healthy way, I started to recognize my survival and protection strategies. I became familiar with my nervous system - its triggers and what it needed for safety.

And at some point, insight alone stopped being enough.

That realization shaped the way I practice today.

Since starting my private practice, I’ve trained in a range of modalities—cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT), dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT). Each offered something valuable. But over time, I began to notice their limits.

We are very good at explaining ourselves.
We are very good at making things make sense.

But the body doesn’t operate on logic alone—and it doesn’t lie.

That’s what led me to somatic and polyvagal work, and eventually to sensorimotor psychotherapy. In this approach, we pay attention not just to what you think or say, but to what your body is holding, signaling, and trying to resolve.

This shift has changed the way I understand healing—both in my own life and in my work with clients.

The people I work best with are often thoughtful, capable, and high-functioning. They’ve done the work of understanding their patterns. And yet, something still feels stuck—like their body hasn’t caught up to what they know intellectually.

Somatic therapy is where we begin to close that gap.

I’m glad you’re here.

Finally, my practice is informed by the principles of social justice and the anti-oppressive lens. I recognize that systemic and institutionalized oppression has affected and impacted marginalized communities, including BIPOC and LGBTQ. These communities have endured a legacy of pain, suffering, and trauma often dictated by a society who has deemed them “undeserving” of basic human rights. This perspective often informs my treatment approach.