If you’re here, there’s a decent chance you’re tired.

Not necessarily “I need a nap” tired. I mean the kind of tired that comes from thinking about everything. Remembering everything. Anticipating everyone’s needs. Trying not to disappoint anyone. Replaying conversations in your head. Being the dependable one. Saying “it’s fine!” when it very much is not fine.

Maybe you’re a chronic overthinker, a recovering people-pleaser, an over-functioner, a perfectionist or some delightful combination of all four.

You’re probably really good at taking care of things.

Maybe a little too good.

I’m a therapist for women who are ready to stop spending so much energy holding everything together and start making room for themselves.

Therapy should feel like a place to exhale.

I don’t believe you need another person telling you how to “fix” yourself. You’re not a problem to solve.

Instead, I want therapy to be a place where you can slow down, get curious about what’s happening underneath the overthinking and overwhelm, and figure out what you actually want, not just what everyone else needs from you.

I’m not the kind of therapist who sits quietly and nods while you do all the talking. I’m also not going to hand you a worksheet and send you on your way.

I like therapy to feel like a real conversation with room for honesty, humor, curiosity, and the occasional, “Okay, but why are we doing that to ourselves?”

I’ll listen closely, ask questions, notice patterns, and gently challenge you when I think you’re getting stuck in an old way of doing things. We’ll talk about the why behind what you’re experiencing, but we’ll also figure out what you can actually do with that insight in your everyday life.

Sometimes we’ll go deep. Sometimes we’ll laugh. Sometimes we’ll sit with something that just really sucks.

You don't have to impress me, perform for me, or come in with a perfectly organized list of problems. You can show up exactly as you are.

And yes, I want you to like being here.

I’ve intentionally created my practice to feel less like a sterile doctor's office and more like somewhere you can actually settle in. A little cozy. A little eclectic. A little weird in the best way.

Because I think the environment matters.

I want you to walk through the door and feel your shoulders drop a little. To have a place where you don't have to be the competent one, have the right words, or hold everything together.

You spend enough of your life taking care of everyone else.

You deserve a place where you get to be cared for, too.

So come sit down. Bring the messy thoughts. Bring the complicated feelings. Bring the version of yourself that has absolutely no idea what she's doing.

You don't have to have it all together here.