I built this practice for the insight I wish I had decades ago.

Why I do
this work.

I grew up in a household shaped by addiction. I know the late-night phone calls, the rehearsed excuses, the way a family can quietly rearrange itself around someone else's chaos until no one remembers what normal felt like.

When I became a therapist, I assumed I would specialize in addiction itself. What I found instead was that the people who arrived in my office most exhausted, most invisible to the rest of the system — were the parents. They had been told to attend Al-Anon, to detach, to set boundaries, and yet no one was helping them with the part underneath: the grief, the guilt, or the marriage that had been holding its breath for a decade.

That is the work I do now. I do not promise to fix your child. I promise to help you stop drowning, and to give you back a life that belongs to you again. In making these changes, the adult child often moves toward health, too.

Outside of the practice, I live in Philadelphia with my partner, our child, and the most energetic Vizsla on earth. I spend my time reading, exploring the generational stories we carry and the ways we change, and attempting elaborate Sunday meals that are occasionally successful — but always made with conviction.