Who I Work With
Most of my clients don’t arrive with a clear name for what they’re carrying. They just know it’s time.
You’ve been going through the motions. And it’s costing you.
Maybe you’ve built a life that looks fine from the outside. You go to work, show up for the people around you, keep things running. But underneath, something feels hollow. You’re disconnected from your body, from your feelings, from the version of yourself you know is in there somewhere. You’re exhausted in a way that sleep doesn’t fix.
Or maybe it’s more specific than that. Something happened — or many things happened — and you’ve been carrying the weight of it in silence. The trauma, the family stuff, the losses no one validated. You’ve tried to push through, but your body keeps reminding you that what you went through didn’t just go away.
You’re not broken. You’re not “too much.” You’re a person whose nervous system has been working overtime to protect you, and you deserve a space where you can finally put that weight down.
My clients rarely arrive naming sexual abuse or complex trauma as the wound. They come feeling anxious and overwhelmed, with dissociation, shame, and bodies that have learned to disappear. They come with painful relationship patterns, carrying it all alone. The language for what happened often comes later, once there’s enough safety to look.
The experiences that shape the people I work with
These are some of the threads that run through the lives of my clients. You don’t need to relate to all of them. Even one may be enough to know this space was built with you in mind.
Carrying intergenerational patterns
You grew up absorbing your family’s pain, their expectations, their survival strategies. The trauma didn’t happen in a single moment. It accumulated over years, in relationships, in families, in systems that were supposed to keep you safe. Maybe you became the responsible one, the peacekeeper, the one who translated everything for everyone. The patterns served a purpose once. But now they’re running your life in ways you didn’t choose.
Surviving sexual trauma
You are a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, sexual violence, or violations that were never given a proper name. The wound may be hard to talk about, or may not yet have words at all. What you know is the shame, the dissociation, the body that learned to go away. You’re ready to begin reclaiming your relationship with your body, your boundaries, and your sense of self. That reclamation is some of the most sacred work there is, and it’s work I don’t take lightly.
Estrangement & Grief
You’re navigating something the people around you may not have language for. Maybe you’ve taken distance from family and the grief arrived on the other side. Maybe you’re still in the in-between: not staying, not leaving, cycling through hope and exhaustion. Maybe you’re mourning someone who is still alive, or a version of family that never quite existed. This is ambiguous loss. It doesn’t need a clean ending to be real grief. And it doesn’t need a resolution to deserve space.
Relationship patterns you didn’t choose
You keep finding yourself in the same dynamics: shutting down when things get close, people-pleasing until you disappear, choosing partners who can’t quite be there for you, or struggling to trust even when you want to. You know the patterns. Knowing hasn’t been enough to change them. These patterns make sense: they kept you safe once. The work is learning which ones you’re ready to release.
Navigating between cultures and identities
You live between worlds: languages, cultures, expectations. The code-switching is exhausting. You may be a first-generation immigrant, a third culture kid, or someone whose identity doesn’t fit neatly into the boxes people want to put you in. The sense of “never quite belonging” is a particular kind of loneliness.
Unmasking your neurodivergence
You’re beginning to realize that the way you move through the world, the overwhelm, the masking, the burnout, isn’t a personal failing. It’s how your brain is wired. Maybe you’re newly discovering your neurodivergence, or maybe you’ve always known but never had the space to explore what it means without judgment. This practice is neurodivergent-affirming: I don’t see your neurotype as something to fix. I work with your nervous system as it actually is, not as the world says it should be.
A note on my deepest work
I have the deepest experience working with Asian American women, and this comes from lived experience, not just clinical training. As a first-generation Asian American, born and raised in colonial Hong Kong, I carry many of the same histories in my own body: the weight of immigration, the pressure to perform and succeed, the silence around emotions, the tension between honoring your roots and forging your own path.
If you are an Asian American woman navigating complex trauma, intergenerational wounds, or the quiet grief of cultural displacement, I want you to know: I see you. You’ll be understood in the ways that matter most. The cultural histories, the things that live between languages, the weight that rarely gets named — I know this landscape. You can bring all of it.
And if you’re not Asian American, you are equally welcome here. Trauma, grief, disconnection, the exhaustion of carrying too much — these experiences are not limited to any one community. My door is open to all women and femmes, BIPOC individuals, LGBTQ+ communities, immigrants, and anyone who resonates with the work I do.
A few things worth naming
This is not a space where you’ll be pathologized or treated like a diagnosis. I don’t see you as a set of symptoms to fix. I see you as a whole person with a history, a nervous system, and a deep capacity for healing that may have been buried under years of survival.
This is slow, gentle work. I won’t push you faster than your body can go. I build at your pace, with your consent, and with deep respect for the protections your system has built. Those protections kept you alive, and we honor them even as we outgrow them.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”— Maya Angelou
If any of this resonates…
You don’t need to be ready. You don’t need to have the right words. You just need to be willing to take the first step. I offer a free 20-minute consultation. No pressure, no commitment, just a conversation.
Begin with a free consultation