About Me

The effectiveness of therapy depends on the relationship between the client and therapist. And before that can happen, a prospective client has to feel that they can trust their therapist—that they’ll be a safe person to be vulnerable with. That’s a big ask, and I want to make it easier for you by letting you know who I am and what I stand for. I believe the era of the “blank slate” therapist is behind us, so I’ve decided to share a bit more about me than I have before. I want you to feel comfortable with me. 

I want you to know that I am LGBTQIA+ affirming and would never vote for or support any policy or action that restricts a person’s right to be who they are. I want you to believe that not only can you survive, but that you can thrive. You can change how you feel, and you can heal from wounds that have lingered far too long. My role is to help you gain understanding and clarity along that healing journey.

My Calling

I’ve always been a helper and a problem-solver. I tend to see the bigger picture, even when the details are messy. That ability got me to where I am today. When you read my story, you might not guess I’d become a therapist and consultant, but this has been my dream for as long as I can remember.

Despite my aspirations, I struggled with confidence in my abilities. I now understand that much of that struggle was due to undiagnosed ADHD. Therapy was life-changing for me, first as a teenager, and again as an adult. That experience solidified my desire to help others the same way.

If you’d prefer to jump ahead, feel free to skip to the “My Life as a Therapist” section [here].

How I Got Here...

From the outside, my family looked like the picture of success. My mother was a stay-at-home parent, and my father was an attorney. I was one of five kids. One of my brothers was adopted at birth, and my only sister was born with special needs. Adding to the image, my father was a paraplegic from pre-polio vaccine days, so from afar, our family seemed extraordinary. To anyone looking, we were a happy family, but behind closed doors, things were very different.

My mother struggled with what I now understand to be Borderline Personality Disorder, and my father had codependent tendencies. The result was a volatile home environment.

I was the child singled out to bear the brunt of my mother’s aggression. The assaults were regular and terrifying. My father said he couldn’t get me out safely without jeopardizing the safety of the other kids. I was the second oldest, just eight months apart from my adopted brother, so we were both considered the eldest. The youngest sibling was eight years younger.

At 17, after a particularly violent episode just weeks before graduation, I ran away. I spent the final weeks of high school living in my car until graduation weekend. I know what it's like to live with terrible secrets, and to wear a mask just to survive.

My 20s: Learning and Surviving

My 20s were filled with testing boundaries and discovering what I was made of—often through choices I wouldn't recommend today. But I gained empathy and insight from those years, which I know aided how effectively I worked with clients in the addiction community. I recognized how small circumstantial differences could’ve easily led me down a different path.

My 30s: Education and Self-Discovery

My 30s brought grad school, purpose, and the official diagnosis of ADHD. It was both a relief and a revelation. Once I found proper treatment, I began to see my neurodivergence as a strength. Today, I love helping other women embrace their ADHD “superpowers.”

My 50s: Gratitude and Full-Circle Moments

From the vantage point of my 50s, I can say I made peace with my relationship with my mother. We reconciled in my mid-20s. I had to practice so much of what I preach now in order to keep that relationship on this side of sane and healthy. My parents divorced in my 30s.

Tragically, I lost my youngest brother to suicide when he was 28, and another brother to cancer in his mid-40s. My father passed in 2009 from post-polio complications. In 2018, just before my mother died from cancer, my siblings and I reunited with a brother she had placed for adoption decades earlier.

After my mother’s passing, I became the parent figure for my sister, Suzy, who now lives with me and my husband in San Diego. My Irish twin (the 8 months older brother) still lives in New York.

I am all too familiar with how we learn to adapt, to grieve, to grow, to forgive, and to keep living our lives, even when we may not feel like it.

 Back in 2017, I was a divorced woman living at a great place on the beach and had visions of living my life out right there.  As of 2025, I am a “Mother” to my sister, a sister to my remaining brothers, a wife to my husband, a step-mother and step-mother-in-law to my husband’s children and their partners.  On top of all that, I get to be Auntie to my brothers children and the bonus grandmother to my husband’s growing group of grandbabies.

 I know what it’s like, firsthand, to maneuver through the various nuances of family relationships, the hats we wear (roles), and their seemingly endless configurations. 

College & Early Career

I initially pursued Hotel & Restaurant Management in upstate New York—mostly because I figured it would give me insight into places I might one day need to stay. But my real dream had always been piano education. I trained for years, competed at the state level, performed whenever possible, and even attended a performing arts high school.

But in a cruel twist, my mother canceled all my college auditions during a fight—without telling me. In one weekend in May 1988, my future disappeared.

I took a detour through the Disney College Program, where I studied business and worked at a resort gift shop. That eye-opening experience sparked my interest in how successful systems operate.

Eventually, I returned to Long Island, took odd jobs, and worked at my father's law firm from 1990–1999, ultimately becoming a department head. The leadership skills I developed there still serve me today.

The Big Leap

I earned my BA in Psychology from SUNY Stony Brook in my late 20s. I used grad school as my ticket to California. I ceremoniously left New York the day after my 30th birthday.

It was a bold move—starting out my 30s in a new place, across the country, alone. I didn’t know anyone anywhere near San Diego, but I saw it as exciting, not scary. That mindset changed my life.

1990.

1978

Woodloch Pines Resort, 1988.

That’s me- with all that dark hair. 1989 at the Disney College Program, Orlando, FL.