My life experiences groomed me to become a therapist. My ACE (adverse childhood experiences) score is a 7 out of 10, but I never thought of trauma as the end of my story. I thought of trauma as a part of my story. I believe trauma is a part of many of our stories. I get to decide what role trauma plays in my life. ⁣

I saw people acting out trauma in destructive ways, and I wanted to know how to be healthy despite it. I was curious. People (strangers and friends) opened up to me, and I asked questions that made people think more in-depth. Self-help books were companions as I sought to discover more about myself and how people became who they are.

When I started college, I wanted to be a social worker. Due to my limited scope of what social workers did in my mind, mainly removing children from their homes, I changed my major to Africana Studies and Sociology. When I considered grad school, I went back to studying social work. Entering grad school, I wanted to practice macro-level social work, such as lobbying or policy reform. After my first internship at a community grant agency, I knew macro-level social work was not for me. My final internship was at a runaway shelter, where I counseled teens and their families. ⁣

My first client sealed my fate as a therapist. It sounds cliche, but something clicked and let me know that being a therapist is who I was becoming all along.

There is something transformative about having someone see and hear you.

There is something transformative about saying things aloud. Sharing your stories unburdens you.

Helping people become themselves, unpack, and reclaim their voice is my calling. And I’m a grateful helper.