Who I Work With

Maybe you're here because a pattern in your life keeps showing up — the same tension, the same loop, the same behavior you thought you'd moved past. Or maybe your body has started carrying something the mind has been trying to manage on its own. Maybe something happened — a loss, an ending, an experience that rearranged your life in ways you're still trying to understand. Or maybe there's no single thing you can point to — just a felt sense that the life you've been living no longer fits who you are.

What I continue to find is that beneath what brings someone to therapy, there are often deeper currents at work — questions circling identity, meaning, freedom, and how we relate to ourselves and the people closest to us. My work as an existential-humanistic therapist is oriented toward both: what arrives in the room and the larger patterns shaping experience from underneath.

Inner Tension and Emotional Weight

One of the most common experiences in therapy is a persistent sense of anxiety or inner tension — the feeling of being on edge even when nothing is immediately wrong. The mind drifts toward what might happen, what remains unresolved, or what feels uncertain. This often overlaps with overthinking or rumination — a loop the mind enters in search of certainty or relief that rarely arrives. Others notice it as a difficulty with attention and focus — a scattering of energy that makes it hard to stay present with what actually matters.

Sometimes tension takes a different shape: anger or irritability that feels out of proportion, reactions that surprise even the person having them, or an edge to ordinary interactions that feels charged. These experiences often point toward something that hasn't yet been fully explored.

And sometimes what arrives isn't tension at all, but its opposite — a heaviness, a numbness, a loss of connection with what used to matter. Depression can show up not as sadness but as distance. Life feels flat, muted, or hard to inhabit. Beneath this, there is often a deeper question about one's meaning and direction that the flatness keeps hidden.

Grief and loss move through many of these experiences. Sometimes grief follows a death. But just as often it follows the end of a relationship, a shift in identity, an unrealized future, or the recognition that a chapter of life has closed. It is one of the most universal human experiences, and one of the least understood.

Patterns of substance use can also shape a life in ways that weren't intended. These patterns are often attempts to manage something that feels unmanageable — overwhelm, isolation, pain without a clear source. The work isn't to judge but to understand what these patterns have been responding to.

Relationships and Connection

I work with both individuals navigating relational difficulty and with couples. Conflict, eroded trust, difficulties with boundaries — these are among the most painful experiences we face in our lives, and some of the hardest to change alone.

Sometimes what brings someone to therapy is a loss — the end of a marriage, a partnership that fell apart, or the recognition that a relationship you depended on is no longer there. What follows is often not just grief but a disorientation — a need to understand what happened and who you are outside of what the relationship held in place. For others, the work is about rebuilding trust after it's been damaged — learning whether repair is possible, and what honesty and accountability actually look like in practice. And sometimes the difficulty isn't about a specific relationship at all but about loneliness and disconnection — the feeling that close connection has gradually disappeared from your life.

In couples work, the focus is on creating space for honest dialogue, emotional attunement, and a deeper understanding of how each person's inner world affects the relationship. What often emerges is that the patterns between partners mirror patterns within each person — and that shifting one begins to shift the other.

Meaning, Identity, and Inner Life

Much of my work involves navigating what doesn't fit neatly into a diagnostic category — a life transition, a difficult choice, or questions that feel existential in nature. Questions about purpose, identity, authenticity, and how to live in a way that feels real.

A significant portion of my practice involves working with men who are examining these questions — often for the first time. Many arrive because something in life has stopped working: a relationship, a career, a sense of self that once felt stable. For some, it's a growing awareness that professional achievement hasn't delivered the sense of fulfillment it was supposed to. For others it's a loss or a slowly building isolation that finally became impossible to ignore.

At the same time, questions of identity and meaning are not limited to one gender. I work with people across the spectrum of identity and experience — including those navigating questions of gender itself. What connects this work is the existential frame: the recognition that who we are is not fixed, that identity is something we are always in the process of becoming, and that this process deserves careful, honest attention.

Some are also drawn to therapy through encounters with creativity, spirituality, or altered states that have opened questions about the nature of reality and self. I welcome this territory. It is often where the most meaningful work begins.

An Open Invitation

What I've described above is not exhaustive. Therapy does not require a clear label or a crisis. Sometimes the most important step is recognizing that something within is asking to be heard.

If something here resonates, you're welcome to reach out.