Why did you decide to become a therapist?
I don’t actually think that the role of “psychotherapist” should exist as a profession at all. The position of helping someone understand themselves better is, I believe, a responsibility that should be shared amongst friends, family, elders, and the community. This framework has existed long before the profession, and is embedded in cultures across the world. The most significant factor in the efficacy of therapeutic work is the quality of the therapeutic relationship. This work is relational, it happens in relationship to others, figuring out and experiencing your way of being. And this can occur in the therapy room, but you are also practicing it every time you interact with anyone else.
Regretfully, this ideal community network of trusted intergenerational connections doesn’t really exist in today’s world. We live in an increasingly isolated, fragmented, and busy society. At least, I didn’t have that growing up. Which is why I wanted to become a therapist.
There are so many reasons this role is necessary –
- We are disconnected, as a community
- We are expected to experience in person and vicariously through social media the impact of genocide, war, climate crisis, socioeconomic crisis, and more, and continue “as normal”
- The support systems that we might have had generations ago no longer exist in the same way
And therapy is not necessarily the first option for support you might think of –
- It’s almost impossible to make time to cook a meal and stay on top of laundry, let alone spend an hour on therapy for yourself
- Your experience is unique. How can you trust anyone else to get it?
- It is an expensive investment with no clear end point or timeline
Yet I believe that it can offer a something incredibly valuable as a relational, supportive experience.
It’s pretty rare these days for people to have a space where you can speak freely, that is totally, 100% your own. And that’s what therapy is for – to give you a place that is yours. To be messy, to let go, to reveal the ugly parts that you don’t want to admit exist. To be witnessed, and be seen – to figure out and reveal all the different parts that make up who you truly are. When so much of the world, society at large, is telling you in no uncertain terms who you “should” be, called “overemotional” and “sensitive” for having emotions, and “callous” and “cold-hearted” for not showing them – being constantly told not to feel. And yet, there is no covering up what is inside – what needs to come out will emerge one way or another.
This can be particularly hard for young people, teenagers, adolescents, who often only have their parents or caregivers to talk to about problems. On top of school, homework, managing changing friendships and relationships, coming into your own as a person, the distractions of screens, it is a time of growth but also incredible challenge. And you can be the best parent in the world, and your kid still probably won’t want to talk to you about everything. Let alone families trying their best to survive in today’s climate where working multiple jobs is increasingly normal, and meeting emotional needs becomes harder under the pressure of what it takes to meet physical needs.
Because of all these things, it can be hard it is to do any different – to actually take that chance to confront something inside, and open up to yourself. Especially when you’ve been told your whole life not to let the mask fall (don’t let us down, don’t cry, don’t be weak, don’t be vulnerable, it’s dangerous, you must be strong, etc). And how important those learnings might have been in the past to keep you safe, and to get you to where you are right now. Even though now, they might no longer be serving you, perhaps why you’re on my page in the first place.
And put plainly, it can be tough when you’re at the intersection of identities, where feeling understood is a rarity. I know first-hand how hard it can be to feel ‘other’ because of various aspects of identity, and it is important to me to acknowledge the way structural oppression impacts our experiences. Psychotherapy is a practice that is limited by its lens – it is a young profession rooted in Western values of individualism and patriarchy. But trauma-informed work must necessarily acknowledge the holistic system, non-verbal communication, felt sense and the body, and the frameworks that oppose our most authentic and natural ways of being. This knowledge and history cannot be whitewashed.
I draw upon the concepts of attachment theory, trauma-informed care, somatic work, neuroscience, and developmental psychology, ensuring my work is grounded in clinical research and practice. And within these frameworks is the need to be sensitive to different cultures and experiences, to provide a curiosity to your experience that allows you to explore safely and without judgement.
I seek to create a space to breathe and regulate amidst the chaos of day-to-day life, where for 50 minutes, you can focus purely on yourself.
If you’d like to chat more about working together, please reach out.