I navigate the world as a queer, straight-sized, cis woman with a touch of neurodivergence. I come from mixed ancestry, my mom’s ancestors are settlers from Europe, and my dad’s family is Coast Salish from Sq’ewqétl (Skowkale) First Nation. And I exist somewhere in between.
I dream of a world where we’re free to show up as ourselves in all our layers, complexities, and contradictions. A world where authenticity is not only accepted but celebrated. I imagine spaces where we can express ourselves in whatever ways feel true to us (through words, movement, art, silence, etc.) and not be met with judgment, shame, or fear of punishment.
If we work together, you can expect a space that invites curiosity, gentleness, and realness. I show up with warmth and honesty, and I do my best to meet you where you’re at (whether you’re navigating anxiety, identity exploration, burnout, grief, or the heaviness of day-to-day life). I welcome all parts of you into the room, even (and especially) the ones that feel messy or unsure. Together, we can explore what healing and growth might look like for you, not based on anyone else’s rules or timelines.
In my work as a counsellor, I aim to offer support, creativity, and strength. I strive to create space for conversations that may not always be welcomed in other places: the exhaustion of living in a capitalist society, the internalized expectations that keep us small, and the grief of navigating systems that were never built for many of us. I care deeply about supporting people in reconnecting with themselves, developing tools that are actually useful, and finding softness in the midst of struggle.
Discovering liberatory and decolonizing practices to therapy cracked something open in me. I feel deep gratitude (and some grief) that it took so long to find. Now I want others to know there are different ways to exist and heal. That the things they carry might not be personal failings, but survival responses in a world that asks too much of us.
I aim to be accountable to the communities that have shaped me (especially queer and Indigenous communities) whose wisdom, resistance, and creativity continue to guide my work.
I feel most nourished in the therapy room during those quiet, powerful moments of noticing, a shift in how someone sees themselves, a new awareness, or a small breath of relief. These moments remind me what’s possible. They remind me why I do this work.
