My interest in understanding and helping others has shaped my decision-making since childhood. As a teen, I spread myself across multiple causes and passionately endeavored to help fix everything I thought was wrong in the world. After years of being engulfed in social justice work, I began to feel worn out and disheartened. I took a break to prioritize my own health, thinking I'd bounce back quickly. By the time I finished my bachelor's degree it became very apparent that despite my attempts to prioritize my own care, I was still feeling anxious and burnt out. Over the next decade, I would find myself continuously struggling to juggle my daily needs, career, and community involvement. When I focused on improving in one area, I'd lose the progress previously made in other areas. It seemed the harder I tried to make life work, the worse it got. Then, one day I went home from work and woke the next morning to find myself unable to return. My body and mind had shut down in revolt. My mouth felt like it had been glued shut, my skin stitched to the bed, and my eyelids rendered useless. After hibernating for what seemed like an eternity, I started to scour the internet for videos on depression in hopes it would unlock the clues I needed to free myself from the prison my bedroom had become. Accidentally, I ran across a video of a woman describing what her life had been like before being diagnosed autistic as an adult. Watching the video, I felt I was hearing my life story come from someone else's mouth. I feverishly researched autism and spent months trying to find an autistic therapist who might be able to help me chart a path that would help me make use of all the knowledge I was gathering. Being unable to find an autistic therapist, I selected a therapist who could help me navigate a path towards diagnosis. I'd hoped the diagnosis and the new information I was armed with would break down the barriers I'd experienced prior to knowing I was autistic. Unfortunately, I learned there weren't many support services for autistic adults and employers weren't as accommodating as they claimed to be. Even still, being able to learn greater empathy for myself did soften my lifelong depression and allowed me to start building a life that I hoped would be more sustainable for me. When the world all but shut down in 2020, I took the leap to begin an I/O Psychology Master's program and began working for a neurodiversity workplace inclusion consulting agency. While I originally started as a job coach for neurodivergent employees, it became apparent that being successful at work was heavily influence by life outside of work. Once my MAIOP degree was conferred, I started my own business as an autistic life coach, helping other autistics chart their own path towards a sustainable life. The experiences I’ve had as a neurodivergent coach are the most immediate catalyst for why I am now an MSW student en route to becoming an LCSW. Being autistic often means tirelessly explaining yourself to others, only to have them still misunderstand. Having similar lived experiences to my clients allows me to understand them without lengthy explanation, something I hope to bring into my future career as a therapist. As a coach, I can see the positive impact I have on those I work with, but as a therapist I will be armed with increased knowledge, greater skill working with trauma, and the ability to accept insurance instead of strictly self-pay.

My interest in understanding and helping others has shaped my decision-making since childhood. As a teen, I spread myself across multiple causes and passionately endeavored to help fix everything I thought was wrong in the world. After years of being engulfed in social justice work, I began to feel worn out and disheartened. I took a break to prioritize my own health, thinking I'd bounce back quickly. By the time I finished my bachelor's degree it became very apparent that despite my attempts to prioritize my own care, I was still feeling anxious and burnt out. Over the next decade, I would find myself continuously struggling to juggle my daily needs, career, and community involvement. When I focused on improving in one area, I'd lose the progress previously made in other areas. It seemed the harder I tried to make life work, the worse it got. Then, one day I went home from work and woke the next morning to find myself unable to return. My body and mind had shut down in revolt. My mouth felt like it had been glued shut, my skin stitched to the bed, and my eyelids rendered useless. After hibernating for what seemed like an eternity, I started to scour the internet for videos on depression in hopes it would unlock the clues I needed to free myself from the prison my bedroom had become. Accidentally, I ran across a video of a woman describing what her life had been like before being diagnosed autistic as an adult. Watching the video, I felt I was hearing my life story come from someone else's mouth. I feverishly researched autism and spent months trying to find an autistic therapist who might be able to help me chart a path that would help me make use of all the knowledge I was gathering. Being unable to find an autistic therapist, I selected a therapist who could help me navigate a path towards diagnosis. I'd hoped the diagnosis and the new information I was armed with would break down the barriers I'd experienced prior to knowing I was autistic. Unfortunately, I learned there weren't many support services for autistic adults and employers weren't as accommodating as they claimed to be. Even still, being able to learn greater empathy for myself did soften my lifelong depression and allowed me to start building a life that I hoped would be more sustainable for me. When the world all but shut down in 2020, I took the leap to begin an I/O Psychology Master's program and began working for a neurodiversity workplace inclusion consulting agency. While I originally started as a job coach for neurodivergent employees, it became apparent that being successful at work was heavily influence by life outside of work. Once my MAIOP degree was conferred, I started my own business as an autistic life coach, helping other autistics chart their own path towards a sustainable life. The experiences I’ve had as a neurodivergent coach are the most immediate catalyst for why I am now an MSW student en route to becoming an LCSW. Being autistic often means tirelessly explaining yourself to others, only to have them still misunderstand. Having similar lived experiences to my clients allows me to understand them without lengthy explanations, something I hope to bring into my future career as a therapist. As a coach, I can see the positive impact I have on those I work with, but as a therapist, I will be armed with increased knowledge, greater skill working with trauma, and the ability to accept insurance instead of strictly self-pay.

Has your heart yearned for something your body refused to accommodate? Working to overcome a bout of depression, I made a trip to majestic Havasupai. Feeling accomplished by 8 miles of desert sun backpacking, I arose the next morning excited to visit the bottom of 200ft tall Mooney Falls. After carefully footing down endless caverns, the final sparsely-chained, slippery cliff-face descent revealed itself. I froze as others endeavored past to magical pools below. After 30 long minutes of watching people escape death, I took a deep breath, turned to face the rock-side, grabbed those rusty chains, and conquered my fears.