I grew up being taught that I should be abstinent until marriage and if I don't I would get an std, HIV/AIDS, or get pregnant. Best case scenario, my life would be over or Worst case scenario, you know, worse would happen. The only thing I was taught about when you are allowed to have sex was that a woman had the obligation to please her man. I didn't just hear those messages from religious environments but the media too. It made me feel deep shame about who I was growing to be. Ashamed about every part of who I was. At a young age, I really felt in my spirit that abstinence until marriage was not for me. It just didn't make sense to me, but that doesn't mean that the shame, blame, oppression, voicelessness, and fear that came from those teachings didn't stay. I still believe in God, but I also believe that God doesn't need me to be oppressed & oblivious to love me. So I decided that I wanted to embrace & discover who I was as a sexual being outside of the desires of a sexual partner.

Before finding my husband, I dated around in NYC for ten years. He was different from the guys I usually went for, but our conversations were seamless. After the first date I knew all the years of figuring it out had been worth it. I understand first hand how difficult dating to find love can be, especially in a city where there are so many options to choose from. Despite it all, I never gave up on finding my person and learned so much about myself along the way. Dating to find love requires an incredible amount of vulnerability and self reflection. In our modern age many people are giving up and resorting to AI companions, but what this does is further the loneliness epidemic and sabotage our emotional capacity. Love is finding someone to challenge you and help you grow, as you reciprocate the same to them. By holding tight to your own beliefs and only welcoming people(or bots) into your life that validate that, we are robbing ourselves of deeper connection and understanding.

I know what it’s like to want connection but feel like the usual relationship “rules” just don’t work for your brain or your life. I’ve navigated everything from open relationships to heartbreak, queerness to complicated family dynamics, and the constant push-pull between wanting to belong and wanting to be real. If you’re neurodivergent, autistic, ADHD, whatever flavor, you’re probably used to masking, managing other people’s expectations, and feeling like relationships just…aren’t built for how your brain works. You deserve relationships that fit you, not ones that fit everyone else’s mold. Let’s talk honestly about what actually works, what doesn’t, and how to build connections (romantic or not) that are safe, fulfilling, and true to who you are. No shame, no judgment..just real talk and real support. I'm safe, affirming of all types of relationships.

I know what it’s like when your body doesn’t feel like your own—after giving birth, illness, loss, exhaustion, or trauma. There were seasons when I wanted closeness but didn’t know how to ask for it, when desire flickered but my body didn’t cooperate, and when my emotions swung between craving touch and needing space. It’s confusing when love is still there but the familiar ways of connecting no longer fit. For me, intimacy had to become something deeper than performance or expectation. I had to learn new ways to talk about what I needed, to laugh when things felt awkward, and to find connection that wasn’t dependent on everything working perfectly. If your relationship with intimacy has changed - due to illness, menopause, trauma, or just sheer exhaustion - I can walk with you through that. Together we’ll talk about what feels safe, honest, and possible now. There’s no pressure here - just room for truth, some humor, and rebuilding closeness in ways that feel real and right for you.

As a highly sensitive and emotionally deep child, I developed an anxious attachment style in a busy household with overwhelmed parents. I craved deep connection, and often felt isolated and on my own. As a teen and adult, I struggled with feeling clingy, overly sensitive, and nervous in friendships and especially romantic relationships. I alternated between pulling people close, and pushing them away when I felt hurt. Eventually, I got to the root of my attachment trauma, and I learned how to caretake that pain. I became capable of managing my emotions and behaviors in relationships, and can now bring my adult wisdom to challenging or hurtful situations.

I’ve been married for over a decade, but my partner and I have been together for more than 20 years. Therapy has been a huge help in improving our communication and navigating tough times. I also helped a close friend through a painful moment when they discovered their partner’s emotional affair. It was a shock for them, feeling like they weren’t enough, and they were ready to walk away. I encouraged them to take a step back, process their emotions, and focus on what they needed in the relationship. Through open conversations, they were able to understand that the affair was a symptom of deeper issues, not a reflection of their worth. Eventually, they chose to rebuild their trust and work through it together. They’re in a stronger place now.

Most people assume that all asexuals are the same (all of them hate sex and never want anything to do with it), and the same is true for aromantics. However, for many of us, that's not the full story. For me, realizing I was aroace is what actually gave me the freedom to explore sexuality, pursue different kinds of relationships, and enjoy certain activities for the first time in my life. Learning about how I do or don't feel attraction has allowed me to view all my relationships- platonic and otherwise- in a much more liberating light. I can now find people like me and communicate my desires well, and I now have a lot more confidence in my ability to make and keep friends, partners, and other social connections. If you're on either spectrum and have trouble figuring out what you really want in your relationships with other people, I'm here to listen and help you pursue the kind of intimacy and relationships that make you and your partner(s) happy.

For a long time, I lived in survival mode—showing up for everyone but quietly unraveling inside. I’ve known what it’s like to feel emotionally exhausted, to question your worth in relationships, and to wonder if peace is even possible. Through therapy, healing work, and hard-won clarity, I began reconnecting to the version of myself I thought I had to silence in order to be loved. I’ve walked through the grief of divorce, the complexity of parenting, and the emotional fog of chronic illness. Along the way, I’ve found joy in honest connection, chosen vulnerability over perfection, and learned how to hold space for others the way I wish someone had held it for me. Now, I offer that same presence, a steady hand, a soft place to land, and a willingness to go deep. You don’t have to carry it all alone.