I thought I’d be counting money, not helping people count their blessings through their struggles.
My path started in Accounting and Marketing with dreams of becoming a stockbroker. I loved the precision of numbers, the thrill of the market and the clear metrics of success. What I didn’t expect was how the human stories behind those numbers would eventually pull me in a completely different direction.
Moving from Trinidad to the Bronx as a child taught me early about adapting to new worlds while holding onto who you are. But it wasn’t until I became a mother to a neurodiverse child and wife to a police officer of color that I truly understood how many layers of stress, identity, and resilience people carry every single day. Suddenly, those neat columns of numbers seemed less important than the messy, beautiful complexity of real lives.
Audre Lorde said it best: “There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle, because we do not live single-issue lives.” That’s exactly how I approach therapy. You’re not just managing depression or anxiety – you’re managing it while navigating workplace stress as the only person who looks like you in the room while parenting a child the world doesn’t always understand.
My therapy style is warm and down-to-earth because I’ve sat where you’re sitting. I know what it’s like to feel misunderstood by systems that should support you, to advocate until you’re exhausted, to carry worries that other people don’t even know exist. Clients tell me I make them feel “heard” and “seen” in ways they didn’t expect – probably because I genuinely get it.
I work with adults and families, especially those juggling anxiety, depression, life transitions, and the unique stress of being everything to everyone while trying to hold onto yourself. I have a special place in my heart for parents of neurodiverse children, people of color and first responders and their families who give so much but rarely prioritize their own healing.
Therapy with me isn’t about fixing what’s “broken” – because you’re not broken. It’s about building practical tools while honoring everything you’ve survived to get here. It’s about creating space to breathe in a world that doesn’t always make room for your full story. Some days we’ll strategize about systems and advocacy. Other days we’ll just sit with the weight of it all. Both are necessary.
When I’m not in sessions, my kids keep me grounded and constantly learning (neurodiverse children are the best teachers of flexibility and joy). You’ll find me listening to Caribbean music that reminds me of home, journaling to process my own layers or out walking with a playlist that matches whatever I’m feeling that day.
You don’t need perfect words to start. You just need to reach out.
