I was doing the work.

Not just talking about it — living it.

I’d been through therapy, processed my childhood, sat in the hard stuff. Sure, some wounds still whispered, but for the most part, I felt healed.

I had two precious baby boys.

I was practicing gentle parenting, building the kind of home I didn’t grow up in.

I was married to a good man and, on paper, genuinely happy.

As a therapist, I was modeling what I taught — self-awareness, communication, empathy, repair.

And yet… something still felt off.

Then came the moment that cracked something open.

I was in therapy, talking about how lonely I felt in my friendships — how some of them just didn’t work anymore. The more I healed, the harder it became to keep playing the old roles. Once you recognize self-abandonment, you can’t unknow it.

My therapist did something rare that day: she let a little of herself into the room. She told me she was going through the same thing — that as she lived more fully in her values, she was feeling lonely too. It was a small exchange, but it was profoundly human.

Later, in my own sessions as a therapist, I started hearing the same story again and again — from my healthiest clients. They were growing, integrating, becoming more authentic… and feeling more isolated because of it.

The third time I responded to a client the way my therapist had responded to me, something in me shifted.

I realized we were all speaking the same unspoken truth:

emotional growth can be profoundly lonely when you don’t have a community growing alongside you.

Part of me was frustrated by the boundaries that made that impossible — my therapist and I couldn’t be friends, and I couldn’t be friends with my clients. But underneath that frustration was grief.

In that ache, a new knowing began to take shape.

Millennial women — the ones trying to heal their families, raise emotionally literate kids, and build lives that feel honest — needed a different kind of space.

Something deeper than therapy alone, but more grounded than a meandering self-help circle.

That knowing became the seed of The Selfhood Studio — a place for emotional growth, community, and belonging, where healing doesn’t have to be lonely.

After 13 years as a therapist, I wanted to give women the tools to feel the results of their healing outside the therapy room — in their homes, their friendships, and their daily lives.

So I started blending everything I knew:

the science of the nervous system, the frameworks of therapy, the lessons of motherhood, and the cultural patterns that keep us small.

It all came together around three living principles:

Love is a practice.

The daily act of showing up with compassion and courage — in our relationships, our parenting, and with ourselves.

Learning (and un-learning) is the process.

Growth means staying curious, letting go of what no longer fits, and allowing new patterns to take root.

Integration is the way home — to your Self.

When what we know, feel, and do finally align, healing becomes living.

This became the foundation of The Selfhood Studio:

a space for millennial women to bridge insight with embodiment, to unlearn performance, to relearn presence —

and to do the work together.

It’s not therapy, but it’s therapeutic as hell.