The things you might be Googling before you actually email me.

You don’t have to hit some imaginary level of “bad enough” before therapy is allowed.

Maybe something specific happened. Maybe you’ve been struggling for a while. Maybe your life technically looks fine and you still don’t feel like yourself. Or maybe you keep thinking, I should probably talk to someone about this.

That’s enough of a reason to start a conversation.

You can literally start with that.

You don’t need to show up with a diagnosis, a beautifully organized list of therapy goals, or a compelling explanation of why you’re there.

“I don’t know. Things have just been hard lately” gives us plenty to work with.

Part of my job is helping you slow everything down enough that we can figure out what’s actually going on.

There is no being good at therapy.

You can lose your train of thought. Sit there for a second because you genuinely have no idea what to say next. Change the subject. Tell me you don’t want to talk about something. Realize halfway through a sentence that you have absolutely no idea where that sentence was going.

I’m going to participate in the conversation. You’re not responsible for filling 50 minutes by yourself.

YES. And this is exactly why ADHD can be so frustrating.

Knowing what needs to happen and being able to reliably make your brain do the thing are not the same skill.

We can work on executive functioning, task initiation, overwhelm, emotional regulation, burnout, perfectionism, relationships, and the shame that can come from years of feeling like you should just be able to try harder.

And we can get practical. If the thing you need help with is sitting in your inbox, bring the email.

No.

Death is one kind of loss, but grief can show up after relationships end, health changes, identities shift, families change, opportunities disappear, or the future you were expecting suddenly looks different.

There’s also anticipatory grief, complicated relationships with people who died, ambiguous losses, and losses other people may not recognize as something you’re “allowed” to grieve.

If it feels like grief to you, we can talk about it.

There isn’t a deadline.

Grief tends to change over time rather than neatly disappear. You may have stretches where life feels pretty normal and then get knocked sideways by something you didn’t expect.

My goal isn’t to move you through grief on somebody else’s timeline. We’ll make room for what you’re carrying while figuring out how the rest of your life gets to exist alongside it.

Perfectly normal.

You might want a therapist who understands your identity without wanting your identity to become the subject of every session.

We can talk about gender or sexuality when they’re relevant. We can also talk about grief, ADHD, your relationship, your family, your boss, grad school, the text message you’ve rewritten six times, or whatever else is actually happening.

You don’t have to spend therapy translating yourself first.

I provide gender-affirming support, including assessments and letters for gender-affirming care when clinically appropriate and within my scope of practice.

Because individual circumstances and requirements can vary, reach out and tell me a little about what you need. We can figure out whether I’m the appropriate person to help and what the process would look like.

Honestly? We talk.

You’ll join from a private space in Arizona, and we’ll meet virtually. I’ll ask questions, tell you what I’m noticing, help you make connections, challenge you when it makes sense, and work with you on whatever brought you in.

And therapy with me can get practical. Clients have made phone calls, written emails, filled out forms, folded laundry, colored, made lunch, and brought whatever fidget their brain required that day.

You’re still allowed to be a person on Zoom.

For many people and many mental health concerns, research has found teletherapy can be effective, and some people genuinely prefer it.

But the bigger question is whether online therapy works well for you.

Some people love being able to meet from their own space. Others focus better when they physically leave home for an appointment. We can talk about what you need and whether virtual therapy feels like a good fit.

Therapy licensure is based largely on where you are physically located during the session, not just where your therapist lives.

I’m licensed in both Arizona and Michigan and currently provide virtual therapy to clients located in either state. If you’re traveling or moving outside of Arizona or Michigan, tell me ahead of time so we can figure out what that means for your sessions.

There isn’t one schedule that makes sense for everyone.

We’ll talk about what’s bringing you in, what kind of support you need, your schedule, finances, and what feels clinically appropriate. From there, we can figure out a rhythm together and revisit it as things change.

You’re not signing a blood oath to Tuesdays at 3 PM forever.

Extremely annoying therapist answer: it depends.

Some people notice small shifts pretty quickly. Other things take longer, especially when we’re working with patterns that have been around for years or grief that isn’t something we’re trying to “fix” in the first place.

I’m less interested in promising you a magical number of sessions and more interested in checking whether therapy is actually doing something useful for you.

We can talk about that openly.

Then I want to know what didn’t work.

Maybe you never really clicked with the therapist. Maybe you felt like you talked every week without anything changing. Maybe the approach was too structured, not structured enough, too clinical, too quiet, or just...not you.

A previous therapy experience not working doesn’t automatically mean therapy can’t help. It gives us useful information about what you don’t want to repeat.

Then we may get along.

I’m relational and collaborative. I’m going to talk to you. I’ll ask questions, tell you what I’m noticing, remember things, make connections, use humor when it fits, and gently challenge you when I think there’s something worth looking at.

There will still be room for silence when you need it.

I just won't make you wonder whether I have been replaced by a very convincing cardboard cutout.

Both.

Feelings matter. Patterns matter. Understanding yourself matters.

And sometimes the thing making your life harder is the form you haven’t filled out, the phone call you’re avoiding, the conversation you need to prepare for, or the task that has become approximately 400% larger in your brain than it is in reality.

My background in case management means I’m very comfortable moving between processing something emotionally and figuring out what we can actually do about it.

You probably won’t know for certain from a website.

You can read every page, look at my credentials, and get a pretty good sense of how I work, but therapy is a relationship. There has to be some amount of oh, I think I can talk to this person.

That’s what the first conversation is for.

You don’t have to commit to the rest of your therapeutic life before saying hello.