My approach
You may have a good understanding of yourself and still find that something feels unresolved. Maybe you’re trying to make sense of a relationship, a loss, a difficult decision or a period of change, or you have a feeling that is difficult to put into words.
My approach is integrative, relational and depth-oriented. I draw on psychodynamic, humanistic and existential approaches to explore what your experiences mean to you and how they connect with the wider context of your life.
-
My clients tend to be thoughtful, self-aware people who are trying to make sense of something in their lives. You might be functioning well and still find yourself questioning a relationship, a decision, a loss, a change in your circumstances or the direction your life is taking.
Sometimes there is a particular experience that you want to talk through. At other times, it may be harder to identify exactly what is wrong. You might feel stuck, disconnected, uncertain or dissatisfied, or simply have a sense that something has changed and you haven't quite worked out what it means yet.
These experiences don't always feel like a crisis. You may be getting on with work, relationships and everyday life while privately wondering whether this is really how you want things to be. You might be asking yourself what you actually want, what matters to you, or how you want to move forward.
These are the kinds of questions that can bring people into therapy with me. You don't need to have the answers before we begin. Therapy can be a place to slow down, explore what is happening and think it through together.
-
Working with me means having space to explore both what is happening in your life and the questions that sit beneath it. We can take time to understand your experiences from different perspectives, including the relationships, circumstances and personal meanings that shape how you see yourself and the world around you.
I draw primarily on existential and relational psychodynamic approaches, alongside ideas from humanistic therapy. This means I am interested in your experience as a whole: what you are feeling, what matters to you, how you understand what has happened, and what you may be finding difficult to put into words.
Our work might involve exploring a relationship, making sense of a loss, thinking through a difficult decision or sitting with uncertainty about what comes next. We may notice recurring themes or ways of relating that are important to understand, but there is no expectation that every difficulty needs to be traced back to its origins or changed.
Ultimately, I see therapy as a space for thinking together. My role is to listen closely, offer a different perspective where it may be useful, and help you develop a fuller understanding of your experience so that you can decide what feels right for you.
-
I’d make this more experiential, so a prospective client can actually imagine what sitting with you will be like. It should also reinforce that they don't need to arrive with a treatment plan or be “worked on”.
What therapy may feel like
Therapy with me is primarily a space to talk. You might arrive with something specific on your mind, or simply a feeling that there is something you need to work through.
Some sessions may feel like having a conversation you have been trying to have with yourself. We might slow down around something that has stayed with you, explore a feeling that is difficult to understand, or think together about a relationship, decision or experience that you are struggling to make sense of.
I won't always have an answer for you, and I won't assume that I know what your experience means before we have explored it together. My role is to listen carefully, ask questions and offer observations that might help you see something from a different perspective.
At times, therapy may feel challenging or uncomfortable. Making space for feelings that have been difficult to acknowledge can take time, and we can work at a pace that feels manageable.
You don't need to know exactly what you want to achieve from therapy. We can start with what is happening for you now and allow the work to develop from there.
-
I recognise that our experiences are shaped not only by our individual circumstances, but also by the cultures, communities and wider systems we are part of. The messages we receive about who we should be, how we should live and what we should value can influence how we understand ourselves and our relationships, sometimes in ways that are difficult to recognise.
I bring an awareness of these wider influences into my work, while remaining curious about how they actually fit with your own experience. I won't assume that a particular cultural or social framework explains what you are going through. Instead, we can explore your story together and consider the different influences that may have shaped how you see yourself and your life.
Your experiences, perspectives and understanding remain at the centre of the work.
My therapy philosophy
Life leaves marks.
The relationships we have, the experiences we move through, and the circumstances we never fully chose can shape the way we see ourselves and the way we move through the world. Some experiences leave a residue that doesn't simply disappear because we have moved on, built a different life, or learned to understand what happened to us. We develop ways of being that help us navigate the world as we find it. We learn what makes us feel secure, what brings us closer to others, what is expected of us, and what it might be easier not to feel or express. These experiences can shape not only how we behave, but how we understand ourselves and what we believe is possible for our lives.
The ways we respond to life are rarely arbitrary. They usually make sense in the context of the person we have been and the world we have experienced. What once felt natural or necessary may continue to influence us even when our circumstances have changed. Therapy, as I practise it, starts from this reality. Rather than trying to get past our experiences, I am interested in understanding what they have come to mean to us, what we carry forward from them, and whether the ways we have learned to live still feel right for the person we are now.
I'm interested in what we do when the life we have built no longer quite fits.
There often comes a point where something shifts. The life we have constructed may look stable, successful or perfectly ordinary from the outside, yet something within us begins to ask different questions. You might find yourself achieving things you once wanted but feeling strangely empty afterwards. You might be the person others depend on while privately wondering what it is that you actually need. You might be in a relationship that looks right on paper but leaves you questioning how you feel within it. Or you might simply reach a point where the future you once imagined no longer feels like the future you want.
Sometimes this is experienced as languishing, disconnection or a lack of vitality. Sometimes it is grief, uncertainty or a feeling that something is missing. Sometimes it is simply the sense that the person you have learned to be no longer feels like the whole of who you are. I think these experiences invite us to ask different questions of ourselves. Not just "How do I cope better?" but "What have I built my life around, and does it still reflect what genuinely matters to me?" "Who have I learned I need to be?" "What have I had to put aside?" "What do I actually want now?"
Jungian psychoanalyst James Hollis is a key inspiration in my thinking about these experiences. He writes about moments like these as a kind of summons from the deeper self: a pressure that emerges when the life we have constructed around our circumstances, our relationships and our understanding of ourselves is no longer large enough to contain who we are becoming. I find this idea compelling because it allows us to take dissatisfaction seriously without immediately treating it as something that needs to be eliminated. Sometimes the discomfort we experience is pointing towards something that deserves our attention. The question becomes not simply how to make it go away, but what it might be trying to tell us.
We come to therapy to change, but this might look different to how we think it will.
I believe therapy involves more than identifying problems or learning strategies. Understanding yourself is important, but there is often a difference between knowing something intellectually and experiencing it differently. We live in a time when psychological information is everywhere. Many people come to therapy already knowing a great deal about themselves. They can name their patterns, trace them to earlier experiences and articulate what they are struggling with. Yet there can still be something that remains outside of conscious understanding.
Our difficulties live beyond this understanding. They are ultimately things we feel: emotional truths that we carry deep inside us and sometimes re-enact in our relationships, even when we cannot fully explain them. Knowing that we are afraid of rejection is different from experiencing that fear in the moment. Knowing that we struggle to ask for what we need is different from noticing what happens inside us when we actually try. Understanding where something comes from does not necessarily mean that we have fully experienced or accepted what it means for us now.
I believe therapy offers a space to slow down and become curious about what is happening beneath the surface. Together, we can explore feelings that have been difficult to access, experiences that have not yet found the right words, and questions that may have been easier to put aside. Sometimes this brings greater clarity. Sometimes it changes the way we understand something that has happened. Sometimes it allows us to experience something that we have understood intellectually for a long time in a different way. Change doesn’t always mean becoming a different person. Sometimes it means becoming more able to recognise what is already there, to make room for conflicting feelings, and to live with greater awareness of what genuinely matters to us.
I think building a life that feels yours starts with being truly seen and accepted.
Therapy is a relationship in which something can change. This can be difficult to grasp at first because many of us carry deep, often unspoken ideas about what happens when we are truly known by another person. We may expect to be judged, misunderstood, found wanting or rejected. We may have become accustomed to presenting ourselves in particular ways: as capable, independent, accommodating, successful or simply "fine".
These ways of relating can naturally emerge in therapy too. You might feel pressure to have the right answers, worry about taking up too much space, find it difficult to say what you actually feel, or notice yourself wanting to present a particular version of yourself. I don't see these moments as problems to be overcome. They can offer us something important to understand about your experience of being with another person. They also create the possibility of experiencing a relationship in which you do not have to be reduced to the parts of yourself that feel easiest to present.
For me, this is part of what makes the therapeutic relationship so important. Being genuinely listened to and understood can allow experiences that have previously felt confusing, unacceptable or difficult to articulate to become more thinkable and more bearable. From my work with people over the years, I have seen how much can emerge when someone has the space to speak honestly about their experience and another person is willing to stay curious alongside them. Sometimes real change begins with being able to encounter ourselves differently.
Ultimately, I see therapy as an opportunity to understand what is troubling us but also the deeper questions our lives may be asking of us. Who are we becoming? What matters to us now? What kind of relationships and life do we want to create? And what might it mean to build a life that feels genuinely our own?
If this way of seeing things resonates with you, please contact me to discuss starting therapy.
Frequently asked questions about my approach
What types of therapy do you offer?
I use a broadly relational approach, drawing especially from relational psychodynamic therapy, humanistic approaches and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT). We’ll pay special attention to relational patterns shaping how you experience yourself and others and explore where they came from and what they are costing you. An existential approach means we also think about questions of meaning, identity, and freedom that tend to surface around difficult experiences. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) offers practical tools for developing a different relationship with difficult thoughts and feelings, grounded in your own values. All three work together rather than separately.
What’s it like to be in the room with you as my therapist?
You will find it most useful to work with me if you want someone who will be genuinely on your side while also being willing to challenge you. Someone who thinks carefully about what lies underneath your experience rather than simply reflecting it back.
This is not a space where you will be guided toward conclusions already reached but also not one where you will find me sitting back passively. Expect a warm but down-to-earth presence working alongside you, where difficult experiences can be explored in a way that opens toward something that feels genuinely yours.
What if you get it wrong and I feel like you don’t get me?
I probably will get it wrong sometimes, and you’re probably tired of people getting it wrong. The beauty of drawing from relational approaches to therapy is that part of the process is about exploring how it feels when someone does gets it wrong and doesn’t get you, and there are many ways for us to work with this. This isn’t always easy though and can in fact feel like one of the hardest parts of therapy. But know that this is something we use in the room to help create a space that feels safe and like it’s working for you, so you can move towards the changes you want to see in your life.
Why is the relationship between therapist and client so important in this work?
“It is a joy to be hidden and a disaster not to be found.”
D.W. Winnicott
Much of what brings people to therapy is a long history of not quite being found, of hiding the most real parts of themselves because the environment could not be trusted to receive them. I don’t believe change happens primarily through insight or technique; if that was the case then all the self-improvement books and podcasts would be all that you needed to change and heal. The most meaningful change happens through the experience of being genuinely known by another person, perhaps for the first time. This is why the therapeutic relationship is where the work actually happens.
But what if I do need a more practical approach alongside the deeper work?
Where this is the case, I draw on Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) to help develop a different relationship with difficult thoughts, feelings, and urges. Rather than trying to eliminate or suppress these experiences, ACT works by changing how you relate to them, loosening their grip through acceptance and defusion rather than avoidance or control. Suitability for this kind of combined approach is something we would discuss at the consultation stage.
What if I have had therapy before and it did not help?
This is one of the most common things people say when they get in touch. Previous therapy not helping, or feeling insufficient, does not mean therapy can’t help you. It often means the approach or relationship was not well matched to what you were actually carrying. People who have felt frustrated by previous therapy, who felt it stayed too surface-level, was too passive pr active, moved too quickly, or did not reach what was actually going on, often find that longer term relational work offers something meaningfully different.
What if I find it hard to open up?
This is more common than people realise and is not a barrier to the work. Words can feel hard to reach or or exposing, and difficulty opening up is often directly connected to the kinds of experiences that have brought you to therapy in the first place.
Where this is the case, we can use creative and expressive approaches alongside talking, including image and drawing, as a way to bring what you want to express into the room or help you feel safe or calm. There is no expectation that you will arrive and say everything immediately and the pace is always yours to set.
Why does understanding the past matter if I am living in the present?
The past does not stay in the past. It lives in the patterns of how you relate to yourself and others, in the emotions that feel forbidden, and in the expectations you carry into every new relationship or experience. These patterns were usually formed for good reasons but over time they can start to shape the present in ways that feel more like fate than choice. Understanding where they came from does not mean being trapped by history. It means developing a new relationship with it so that it stops running the show invisibly.
What does it mean to work with meaning and identity rather than symptoms?
Symptoms are often the surface of something deeper. Feelings of emptiness, meaninglessness, languishing, and being different from others are usually signals from a self that has outgrown the life it is living. James Hollis writes about the provisional life; the identity we all build in response to others' expectations and early relational necessity, and how it eventually reaches a point of collapse. That collapse is often the first genuine invitation to find out who you actually are. Working with meaning and identity means taking that invitation seriously rather than treating it as a problem to be managed away from consciousness.