Understanding yourself is not a diagnosis to overcome. It's a doorway.

I'm a licensed clinical social worker seeing clients virtually, and my practice has grown around a pattern I keep noticing in the room. Many of the people I work with are in the process of understanding themselves more fully, often through the lens of a new or recent diagnosis that finally puts language to things they've always known about themselves but couldn't quite name. I don't treat that diagnosis as the end of the story. I treat it as the start of a kinder one, and that reframing usually opens the door to everything else we do together.

Because self-understanding lives in the body as much as the mind, I bring somatic tools into most of my work: grounding, intentional movement, tapping, mindfulness. Talking things through matters, but so does what's happening in your nervous system while you talk, and I want both in the room.

That same lens extends to the parents I see. Many of my clients raising neurodivergent kids are, at the same time, discovering their own neurodivergence, and the two processes tend to inform each other. Understanding your own wiring often makes it easier to understand your child's, and it works the other way too, so I hold space for both journeys at once.