How I got here
I did not come to this work through a tidy route, and I think that is
part of why the room feels the way it does.
Before I was licensed I worked in settings where people arrived at their worst hour
and left without a follow up appointment, because the funding ran out or the referral line was closed. I learned
early that the difference between someone getting better and someone getting worse is very often logistical rather
than psychological. Who called back. Whether the fee was survivable. Whether the clinician flinched when they heard
what the client did for money.
Since then I have practised in Manhattan private practice, taken referrals from virtual networks and businesses
across the city, and built a caseload that is deliberately mixed. On the same Tuesday I might see a director of
engineering, a dancer between contracts, and someone who works nights in an industry most people will not name at
a dinner party. They have more in common than any of them expects.
My training is humanistic and person centred at the base, with trauma informed practice layered over it and a
liberation psychology frame around the whole thing. In plain terms: I believe you already have most of what you
need, I will not pretend your history did not happen, and I will not treat your circumstances as background noise.
The therapists who helped me most were the ones who were willing to be a person in the room. I try to be that, without ever making the hour about me.
Outside the practice I am a slow reader of long novels, an unreliable runner along the Hudson, and someone who
still gets faintly emotional about the light on Twenty Third Street in October. I say this because clients
sometimes ask, and because therapy works better when you know there is an actual human on the other chair.