About Me
I’m an autistic psychotherapist based in California who works primarily with autistic women. Many of the people who end up in my office are late-diagnosed, or in the process of realizing that autism might explain a lifetime of experiences that previously never quite added up.
Before we go any further, an important disclosure: I am a therapist who will meet you where you’re at, which means I’m working as hard as you are, not harder. Therapy is a place for you to put in the considerable effort it takes to understand yourself better. The goal is not for me to understand you better—it’s for you to have a better sense of who you are. That’s only achieved by staying present and paying attention to yourself…listening to how you speak, listening to what you say to yourself, noticing and observing your own patterns, and being brave enough to stay with that when it becomes uncomfortable.
The people who tend to find their way to me are usually at a point where they’ve thought deeply about themselves already. They’re curious. They’re often intelligent. And at some point they’ve decided they don’t just want insight—they want to actually do the work of changing longstanding patterns.
My orientation is depth-focused, which means we spend time understanding the underlying emotional systems that drive behavior rather than just trying to manage symptoms on the surface. A big part of that involves parts work—learning to recognize the different internal voices or “parts” that show up inside us. The hyper-competent one. The exhausted one. The critic. The one that just wants everyone to stop talking and turn the lights down.
Once people start recognizing those parts, something interesting tends to happen: internal conflicts that once felt chaotic begin to make sense. And when things make sense, they become much easier to accept or change.
Because I specialize in autistic women, a lot of our work also involves understanding masking, sensory overload, burnout, and sometimes unsettling experience of discovering a core part of your identity much later than you expected. Many of my clients have spent years adapting themselves to environments that were never designed for their nervous systems. Therapy can become the place where that constant adaptation finally gets examined instead of assumed.The people who tend to find their way to me are usually at a point where they’ve thought deeply about themselves already. They’re curious. They’re often intelligent. And at some point they’ve decided they don’t just want insight—they want to actually do the work of changing longstanding patterns.
Outside the therapy room I’m a person with a fairly active curiosity about the world. I love to cook and bake (sometimes ambitiously so), make collage art, go hiking, and ride my bike around local trails whenever I get the chance. I tend to approach cooking the same way I approach therapy: a mix of careful attention, experimentation, and the occasional moment of “well, let’s see what happens if we try this.” Also the occasional moment of “oops, guess that didn’t work out.”
Clients often tell me they appreciate that our work together feels both intellectually engaging and very human. Therapy with me usually includes real conversation, humor, and a lot of careful thinking about why our minds and nervous systems behave the way they do.
I take the work seriously but my approach often comes across as quite light-hearted.
If you’re someone who has spent a long time trying to understand yourself—and you’re ready to move beyond insight into actual change—you’ll probably feel comfortable here.