​​I didn’t always plan to become a counsellor, the path unfolded slowly, through conversations, quiet moments, and the trust people placed in me over the years. Even in everyday interactions, I often found myself listening to stories that were tender, raw and real. I didn’t always have the perfect words, but I could be present and that presence seemed to matter.

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Over time, I came to realize how healing is not only something we think about but something we live and feel in our bodies. My own journey has been about finding the parts of myself that had been silenced or overlooked, and learning to return home to myself with compassion. That process shapes the way I sit with others: attuned not just to thoughts, but also to the quieter layers beneath, where grief, resilience, softeness and tenderness often live.

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I am deeply grateful for the early experiences that showed me how powerful it is to simply be with someone without judgment or urgency. They taught me how much we all need spaces where we can speak honestly, fall apart a little, or simply be seen. For me, counselling isn’t about fixing people rather, it’s about creating that space of connection, where someone can feel less alone in their pain and begin to find their own way forward.

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This work feels like a continuation of all of that, and I hold it with care, humility, and deep respect for the uniqueness of every person’s story.

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Outside of my work, I find joy in reading, making art, spending time with my dogs, wandering in nature, and sharing conversations that remind me of both the beauty and the messiness of being human.