Depth Requires Room
There are seasons in life when holding everything together feels like the cost of being capable. You might be the one people turn to for advice, the one who multitasks easily, the one who can push through and deliver no matter what. From the outside, it looks like strength. Inside, it may feel like tension in the chest, a mind that never turns off, and an unspoken longing for someone to finally say, “You don’t have to carry all of this alone.”
Therapy can be the space where you put things down—not so you stop being strong, but so you have room to be fully human.
Why Depth Matters
Depth takes time, presence, and capacity. That’s why I provide depth-centered therapy for Black women and work with a small number of clients at a time.
Many high-achieving Black women don’t struggle because of a lack of insight—they struggle because there has never been room to rest. Even when life is full of accomplishments, the inner experience can feel like holding everything together with no space to unravel, examine, or be seen without performing strength.
Depth-oriented therapy gives shape to that space. It’s not about fixing you; it’s about expanding the inner landscape where emotional clarity, rest, and alignment can emerge.
Sometimes depth is simply having a place where you don’t have to choose between vulnerability and competence. A place where you don’t need to explain the cultural context of your experiences before sharing how they feel. A place where the parts of you that know, lead, and care for others can also be witnessed and tended to.
Mind-Body Practices as Support, Not the Entire Frame
My work is rooted in presence, relationship, and mind-body connection. We use grounding, pacing, breathwork, and somatic tools—but these practices do not replace the deeper relational exploration. Working with your nervous system doesn’t exist in isolation—it lives alongside the stories, lineages, and relationships that shaped you. I want to know all of that.
My work is rooted in presence, relationship, and mind-body connection. The phrase “mind-body connection” can be a bit misleading—there is no real separation to reconnect. The nervous system, immune system, hormonal system, and emotional life are already one integrated process. Dr. Gabor Maté uses the longer neuroscientific term psychoneuroimmunoendocrinology to describe this inseparability. I use tools that support the body not as a separate intervention, but as part of a whole relational system shaped by history, lineage, and lived experience. Working with your nervous system doesn’t exist in isolation—it lives alongside the stories, lineages, and relationships that shaped you. I want to know all of that.
Mindfulness becomes a way to stay with what rises, not a way to bypass it. Somatic tools offer support as you explore the parts of yourself that have learned to stay alert, take care of others, succeed quietly, or stay in motion. This approach makes room for tenderness, grief, joy, and imagination—not just regulation.
Sometimes this looks like noticing body tension while also naming who taught you to brace. Or grounding yourself in the present while honoring the history that made grounding necessary. The work holds both: the body that remembers and the lineage that shaped that memory.
Who This Work Is For
Many of the women I work with have already created space in their lives to slow down. They’ve cleared ninety minutes not as an emergency intervention, but as a practice of self-honoring.
She might be a graduate student with flexibility to reflect, a writer or creative building a sustainable life, or a business owner who has already put out enough fires to make space for herself.
She’s not rushing toward “better”; she’s ready to go deeper—into the parts of her story that shaped her brilliance and the parts that shaped her armor.
Depth-centered therapy can be especially meaningful if you:
are used to being “the strong one”
are emotionally self-aware but want relational depth, not just coping skills
navigate multiple identities simultaneously (e.g., Black, Southern, spiritual, academic, first-gen)
sense that your nervous system responses hold generational echoes
value analytical clarity and embodied wisdom
This is work that honors your lineage, intellect, body, and becoming.
How a Small Caseload Supports This Work
I run a small practice for maximum energetic exchange and presence. A limited caseload allows me to show up fully for the relational, layered nature of this work. It also reflects how I describe myself on my About page—connection over volume.
Together, we create a space where healing isn’t something to squeeze into the margins of your life, but something that expands from the inside out. The work moves at the pace of your nervous system, your body, your story—not the pace of pressure.
Some clients work with me weekly; others meet every other week once they feel grounded. The consistency is not about frequency—it’s about intention and alignment. When we move slowly and stay observant, we can engage not just the part of you that copes, but the part of you that imagines, initiates, and transforms.
A Closing Thought
Therapy isn’t just a place to survive; it can be a place to breathe. It can be a place where your inner life has room to stretch, soften, and take shape in ways that aren’t required to perform strength.
Depth requires room—and you deserve space that honors the fullness of who you are and where you come from.