A small, careful practice.
I keep my caseload deliberately small — so that the people I work with get my full, slow attention.
My work is relational and systemic. I believe the difficulties that bring people to therapy are rarely just individual — they’re shaped by the relationships, families, and larger systems we move through. Understanding that context is part of the work.
Individual therapy
For adults navigating anxiety, life transitions, identity, grief, burnout, perfectionism, or the relational patterns you keep encountering in yourself and in others.
Most of my clients come weekly. We work for as long as it’s useful — a few months, sometimes longer. You’re free to slow down or end at any time.
- 50-minute sessions, typically weekly
- Online across Washington State (secure video)
- Sessions in English or Turkish
Couples therapy
For partners who want to understand each other better, whose conversations keep ending the same way, or who are navigating something hard and want company while they do.
In our first three sessions, we map the conversation that keeps happening underneath the conversations. We’ll know by the third whether we’re a fit.
- 75-minute sessions for couples
- EFT-informed; attachment-grounded; systemically aware
- Online — both partners anywhere in Washington
- Open to all relationship structures and identities
What we might work on, in plain language.
These aren’t diagnoses. They’re shapes of difficulty I’m trained to sit with — and to understand in the context of a whole life, not in isolation.
Anxiety tends to arrive uninvited and then redecorate the place. Racing thoughts, tight chest, the 3 a.m. catalogue of everything you might have done wrong.
We work with anxiety not by arguing with it, but by understanding what it’s trying to protect — and exploring, together, what else might also be true. Often, anxiety is relational: it learned to be this vigilant somewhere, with someone. That’s worth knowing.
A move, a job change, a new role, the end of a chapter that defined you. Even the changes we choose unsettle us in ways we didn’t expect.
Transitions ask us to renegotiate who we are — in relation to others, to our pasts, to the stories we’ve been living inside. Together we make sense of the loss in the gain, the grief in the growth.
Most couples don’t come because something is broken — they come because the same conversation keeps ending in the same place, and neither of them knows how to stop it.
We slow those conversations down, listen for what each of you is actually trying to say underneath, and practice new ways of reaching each other. The goal isn’t agreement — it’s connection.
For clients living between cultures — immigrant, third culture, bilingual, raised between worlds — the work of feeling whole takes its own particular shape. Identity is never only personal; it’s formed in the systems and communities we belong to.
I bring my own experience of carrying two languages and the worlds that come with them. We make room for the complexity of being more than one thing at once.
Grief doesn’t move in stages. It moves in tides. Some losses are obvious; some are quiet and never had a name — the life you didn’t live, the relationship that slowly changed, the version of yourself you had to leave behind.
We name them. We let them be as big as they are. And we find what shifts when we stop trying to be done with them.
If you’ve been holding it together so well that no one knows how tired you are: I notice.
Perfectionism and burnout are often relational in origin — they grew in response to what was needed, what was praised, what felt safe. We look at those roots together, and find a different ground to stand on.
The same kind of conflict, the same kind of dynamic, the same feeling of being unseen or misunderstood. These patterns aren’t random — and they’re not a personal failing.
They make sense when you know where they came from. We trace them with curiosity rather than blame, and learn what they’ve been protecting, and whether you still need that protection.
We carry more than our own history. The ways our families communicated — or didn’t — live in our bodies, our relationships, our reflexes.
Looking at family patterns isn’t about assigning blame. It’s about understanding the larger story you’re living inside, so you can decide, consciously, what you want to carry forward.
If this sounds like what you’re looking for —
See fees