Growing up Black in a world that often misunderstands us, mental health wasn’t something we talked about openly. Pain was something you “got through.” Depression was brushed off as a bad mood. Anxiety was “nerves.” Therapy? That was for other people, not for us. But the truth is, we hurt too. We carry trauma too. And we deserve healing just like anyone else. As a Black therapist, I’m reminded every day of why I chose this path. It wasn’t just to help people feel better—it was to hold space for the stories that too often go unheard. It was to give people who look like me an opportunity to feel, to process, to heal.
Let’s be honest. There’s still stigma. There’s still hesitation. There’s still the belief that talking to a therapist means something is wrong with you. And for Black folks, especially, we carry the added burden of historical trauma, systemic racism, and cultural pressures to “be strong” no matter what.
I get it—because I’ve lived it. I’ve sat in rooms where I was the only Black voice. I’ve felt what it’s like to need support and not know where to turn. That’s why I show up in this field. Representation matters. It matters to see someone who looks like you and understands where you come from, sitting across from you in a space built on trust.
I want to be part of normalizing therapy in our community. I want to be a safe space for those who’ve never felt safe enough to open up. And I want us to know that there is strength in vulnerability. My role isn’t just to guide people through healing—it’s to remind them they deserve it.
If you’ve been thinking about therapy but you’re unsure where to start, you’re not alone. You don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to be willing to explore the questions. And if you’re ready to take that step, I’m here. We’ve carried enough for too long. Let’s heal together!