Reflect

I want my two hours back because I hate horror movies. I hate jump scares. I hate slasher films. I hate that feeling of sitting on edge, waiting for something to jump out of a dark hallway when you already know it’s coming. So naturally, I spent my Friday night watching The Backrooms with my teenagers after a long week of work. Self-care is apparently flexible in my house. To its credit, the film does exactly what it sets out to do. It’s unsettling, atmospheric, and creepy as

Welcome to the digital sexual revolution, where people of all genders and sexual orientations are unapologetically writing their own definitions of sex, relationships, and intimacy. And honestly, I’m here for it. In therapy, there’s no such thing as “TMI.” Sexuality is a natural, messy, complicated, and beautiful part of the human experience—and it deserves a seat on the therapy couch right alongside stress, grief, and family drama. Not all nervous systems are equipped to han

My version of a midlife crisis didn’t involve a red Corvette—it came with handlebars and a helmet. Somewhere between raising kids and running a therapy practice, I did something wildly out of character: I signed up for motorcycle lessons. This has been a long-standing dream, and now—firmly planted in midlife—I figured, if not now, when? Learning to ride has been equal parts thrilling, terrifying, humbling, and hilarious. It’s a full-body workout in concentration, balance, and

College is often described as a time of self-discovery, new experiences, and unexpected connections—and my own experience was no exception. I remember meeting my college boyfriend and stepping into a world that was both unfamiliar and deeply intriguing. We met in Philosophy class of all places. When he approached me, he handed me a book about Buddhism… with his phone number tucked inside and a note asking me to go to the movies with him. I thought,“Smooth… and also very on br

Let’s start here: Not every ex-partner or mother is a narcissist. Sometimes people are avoidant, emotionally immature, or simply not capable of meeting us where we are. Labeling every painful relationship as narcissistic abuse can dilute the term and muddy the waters. But. Some people are narcissistic. And some, more dangerously, are malignant narcissists. If you've been involved with one—or believed you loved one—you may still be living in the emotional aftershocks: confused

As therapists, we aim to meet every client with cultural humility, curiosity, and openness. We meet them where they are—without judgment. I truly believe that understanding a client’s “why we’re here” is often the key to figuring out how to help them get to where they want to go. Time and again, clients begin answering questions about religion, the afterlife, or personal beliefs with the familiar preface: “This is going to sound so woo-woo…” Here’s the thing: everyone’s “woo-

My 12-year-old son regularly educates me on what is—and what is not—a vibe. Apparently, this is a very serious assessment process, often referred to as a “vibe check.” He insists that homework and bedtime kill his vibe—though, after 20 minutes of listening to him protest both, I can confirm that his complaining has the same effect on mine. As a family now firmly rooted in Southern California, we sprinkle “vibe” and “dude” into our sentences more often than Jeff Spicoli himsel

I was raised deeply Catholic. Not casually Catholic. Not “Christmas and Easter” Catholic. I mean, Catholic school uniform for eight years, Catholic. Religion was woven into the fabric of my childhood. I was immersed in it wholeheartedly. I was school president, read scriptures at the podium in church, and even played the Virgin Mary in Midnight Mass. Yes, that Catholic. And for a long time, that structure gave me identity, belonging, and meaning. But somewhere along the way,

There’s a concept we come back to often in therapy: focus on what you can control. It sounds simple—until you’re raising a teenager in a world moving faster than you ever expected, where independence suddenly comes with handlebars and a throttle. For adolescents, everything is changing at once: their bodies, their minds, their social circles, and their hunger for independence—and, apparently, very expensive bikes (courtesy of YouTuber Sur Ronster). Now add electric bikes to t

There’s something poetic—and slightly terrifying—about hearing a new client say: “I’m a therapist too.” I’ll be honest. Working with therapists was never my niche. I didn’t set out thinking, Yes, I’d love to have someone in the room who knows exactly what I’m doing at all times. And yet… here we are. Over the years, somehow, my caseload quietly filled up with clinicians. Therapists. Healers. EMDR-trained, IFS-trained, attachment-savvy, trauma-informed, CEU-presenting humans.

The first Marine with Complex PTSD I ever encountered wasn’t a client or a patient—it was my father. A proud Filipino Irish American, he volunteered to serve in Vietnam, carrying a fierce sense of duty and courage. But like so many others who served, he returned with wounds that weren’t visible. Looking back now as a therapist, I wish EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) had been available to support his healing journey. ​ Over the years, I’ve had the honor of

Shame is not “I did something bad.” Shame is “I am bad.” And there is a profound difference between the two. Guilt can guide us. Guilt can realign us with our values. Guilt says, that behavior didn’t feel right to me. Shame, however, burrows deeper. Shame doesn’t sit in the mind; it settles into the body. Into the gut. Into the soul. It becomes a heavy, dark knowing that whispers: You are unworthy. You are too much. Not enough. Broken. Bad. Shame feels like tar. Like being fe

Let’s talk about anger—the emotion most people try to outrun, suppress, or apologize for before it even fully lands. A lot of my clients come in saying: “I hate that I get angry” “I don’t want to be that person” “I wish I didn’t react like that” And I get it. Anger can feel intense, messy, and at times, out of control. But anger itself isn’t the problem. Anger vs. Aggression (they’re not the same) Let’s clean this up first: Anger = an emotion Aggression = a behavior Anger is

Heartbreak has a way of stopping time. One minute you're making plans and imagining a future; the next, the ground shifts beneath you. Suddenly, ordinary moments feel heavy—waking up, making coffee, passing places that once held meaning. As a therapist, I sit with people in this space every day. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's this: heartbreak isn't proof that something is wrong with you. It's proof that you cared. I know this not just from clinical work—I survive

I had a moment recently in session where a client used the phrase, “I’m literally crashing out.” And I had to pause internally… not because I didn’t understand what they meant—but because I did. Too well. Also because part of me was like: am I cool enough to say that back? (Spoiler: I’m not. Not out loud. Not yet.) But here’s the thing—between my clients and having teenagers, I stay just current enough on the evolving language of emotional chaos. “Crashing out,” for those of

Nervous Systems in the Stands If you ever need a real-time lesson on nervous system dysregulation, skip the textbook and head straight to your nearest Little League baseball field. You’ll find it right there—in living color, with sunflower seeds flying. You’ll know you’ve arrived when you see the dad gripping the chain-link fence like it’s a life raft, the mom pacing behind the bleachers doing deep sighs, and the coach who looks one bad call away from needing an emergency min

“I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want everything to end. I don’t want to hurt.” There are moments in therapy when the room shifts, when the words land with a kind of weight that demands clarity, presence, and courage. This is one of them. As therapists, we are trained not to turn away from these moments—but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. In fact, one of the most important skills we develop is the willingness to say the words that many people are afraid to say out loud:

I want to share some thoughts with you, written as a mother, a therapist, and someone who has walked a path similar to yours—a path full of hope, light, and potential, but also challenges that can test your sense of self. You Are Not Defined by the World You are growing up in a world that often tries to define your value by your looks, your body, or how well you fit into someone else’s expectations. Social media, peers, and popular culture will make it seem like perfection is

My boyfriend Michael died two weeks after my 18th birthday. Almost a year before, he and two friends had been drinking underage at a party they should not have been at, and driving a car that wasn’t theirs. They hit a light pole in the next town over. I got the call the next morning—his mother’s voice breaking the quiet. One friend was gone on impact. Another survived, but would never walk the same again. Michael broke his neck. He spent months suspended between life and some

I’ve learned to “take the L,” as my son likes to say when he beats me in sports. I can usually accept the loss — as long as I still feel like I’m “taking the W” in parenting. Life, unfortunately, cannot always hand us wins. For some of us, it can feel as though the losses come far too often, and for very real reasons, they can be incredibly hard to accept. At times, it may even seem like the scoreboard of our lives is rigged against us. While we naturally celebrate our victor