It's not always tears. Sometimes depression looks like flatness — going through the motions, losing interest in things that used to matter, feeling strangely disconnected from your own life.

In children and teens it often shows up as irritability, withdrawal, or a quiet "I don't care" that breaks your heart a little.

Depression usually has roots. We go there together — carefully, curiously, and with a lot of compassion.

The racing thoughts. The "what ifs." The avoidance that's slowly shrinking your world (or your child's).

Anxiety is the most common thing I see — and one of the most misunderstood. It's not weakness. It's usually a very smart nervous system that learned to be on high alert for a reason. My job is to help figure out what that reason is — and whether it still makes sense today.

The meltdowns. The shutdowns. The "I don't know why I did that." For children and teens, big behaviors are almost always big feelings in disguise — feelings that haven't found words yet.

We don't manage behavior here. We get curious about it. And when kids feel genuinely seen and understood, the behavior tends to shift on its own. That's the magic of this work.

New school. New city. New chapter. Figuring out who you actually are underneath all the roles you play.

Transitions are hard even when they're good ones — because they ask you to let go of something while reaching for something new. Whether you're a teen navigating identity or an adult rethinking everything, this is exactly what therapy is for.

Not all trauma is a single dramatic event. Sometimes it's the quieter kind — years of feeling unseen, misunderstood, or emotionally alone. That kind leaves marks too.

Attachment wounds shape how we connect, how we trust, how we feel about ourselves in relationships. This work is slow, careful, and always at your pace. Connection is the medicine here — and that starts in the room between us.