
I’ve always been drawn to the inner world, to understanding what makes people feel, hope, shut down, or come alive. Some of that came from growing up in a home where I carried more emotional weight than I should have. Some of it is simply a deep curiosity about people and the stories we tell ourselves about who we are.
For a long time, religion helped me organize the world. It gave me meaning and certainty, but it also created limits around who was in, who was out, and which parts of myself were welcome. I’ve let go of many of those structures without losing my hunger for what’s deeper. I still find it in poetry, music, relationships, and the intimacy of being truly known by another person.
Midlife has asked me to reconsider some of my own stories, too. I’ve had to look at the ways I’ve taken on too much for others and not enough responsibility for myself. There’s been grief and loneliness in that, but also more intimacy, truth, and a sturdiness I wouldn’t trade.
I don’t come into the therapy room pretending I’ve figured life out. I bring curiosity about the questions your life is asking and a willingness to get a little lost with you while we listen for the answers.


Therapy with me moves slowly, not because we’re avoiding anything, but because it takes time to really know someone. In relational work, that time is part of the work. We’re not here just to vent or talk in circles. We’re here to get curious about what your life is asking of you.
That means we may not immediately try to get rid of everything that hurts. When anxiety shows up, we might wonder what it’s protecting you from. When you feel stuck, angry, or shut down, we’ll listen for what those feelings might be telling us. Sometimes the things we most want to make disappear are pointing toward something we need to understand.
I won’t claim to know you better than you know yourself. I’m always approximating, and I assume I’m getting some of it wrong. You’ll help me understand where I’m close and where I’ve missed you. You’ll make guesses about me, too. When those things happen between us, we can talk about them honestly. That relationship is part of the work.
You’ll find me present, curious, and honest with you. We’ll laugh sometimes. We’ll probably get a little lost sometimes, too. My expertise isn’t in knowing more about you than you do. It’s in helping us stay with the process long enough to hear the questions underneath what brought you here.
My work is relational and psychodynamic, which means I’m interested in more than getting rid of whatever symptom brought you through the door. We’ll pay attention to what’s happening now, what has shaped you over time, and the patterns that keep finding their way into your relationships and your life.
Sometimes we’ll look backward. Sometimes we’ll pay attention to what’s happening between us in the room. And sometimes we’ll stay with anxiety, grief, anger, or uncertainty long enough to ask a different question: Why is this showing up now, and what might it be asking of you?
Areas of Focus:


Fees:
I love grabbing a bite at Ronin (though I’m sad to see them leaving downtown Bryan!) or Porter’s for a unique occasion. For a family-friendly spot, C&J’s is a favorite—plus, the Mannings are just good people. When it comes to coffee, Harvest and Tavo are my go-to places here in town. While I explored a few different career paths before finding therapy, this work has connected me most deeply to myself and to others. It challenges me to keep growing, to never hold an answer too tightly, and to embrace endless curiosity. That sense of discovery is what makes me feel more alive and present in my world—and in the work I do with my clients. One quote I love is:
“On Earth, I was a work in progress, Was comforted in the knowing, That I had a million mistakes still in me, To learn from. I changed my mind , More often than I changed by socks,, And whenever I was criticized, For mismatching thoughts, I’d say, Who wants to be today, Who they were yesterday?...A promised land, Is not a promised land, If I can’t keep learning." - Andrea Gibson, You Better Be Lightning “What Sucks About An Afterlife”

