PSYCHOTHERAPIST

I believe psychotherapy isn’t about fixing people—it’s about helping them live with intention, clarity, and maybe even a little humor. At Hearts at Home Counseling, I work with women who are tired of just surviving and are ready to start actually living. I specialize in anxiety, depression, and those “What am I even doing?” moments that make you question everything. Growth is messy, uncomfortable, and—unfortunately—necessary. But you don’t have to do it alone. Real change doesn’t come from just another conversation—it comes from intentional work, and I’m here to help you do it.

I’m a fiercely independent woman who also happens to enjoy a lot of old-school homemaking. It’s complicated. I hate misogyny but will happily spend a day baking, cleaning, and sewing—just don’t expect me to do the dishes. I have a collection of dishes that I love, and everyone (except my husband) groans when I announce I’m hosting a dinner. But I do it anyway—because nothing brings people together like good food, pretty plates, and a little chaos. If given the choice between work and hopping on a plane to see my kids and grandkids, I’m already at the airport. Love, to me, is in the details—home-cooked meals, quiet moments, and just the right amount of sarcasm.

I’ve been the encourager and the boundary keeper. My kids are successful because they make their own choices—I did my best to guide them, set limits, and occasionally look the other way when everything was probably fine. Motherhood isn’t about control (trust me, my way isn’t always the best in the end), and it’s definitely not about raising perfect people. It’s about surviving toddler meltdowns, teenage eye rolls, broken bannisters, and a five-gallon bucket of paint spilled on the carpet—while somehow still liking each other in the end.

It took me nearly 20 years to realize I am actually a good mom. My children are kind, resilient, and making the world better in their own ways—that’s big. Motherhood has taught me that you can’t control everything, and you don’t need to. Showing up, setting limits, and offering support isn’t just enough—it’s a privilege.

Now that my kids are grown, my job is mostly cheering them on, answering the occasional How do I get this stain out? text, and reminding myself that they’ve got this—even when I want to step in. Love looks different now, but thinking about how they’re doing? That never goes away.

A close friend once told me, We just hold hands and get through it, and I’ve carried that with me ever since. Friendship isn’t about fixing each other; it’s about showing up, sticking around, and walking through the hard stuff together.

I’m the one who listens, tells the truth with kindness (and sometimes annoying accuracy), and knows that not everything needs to be untangled—sometimes, you just need a snack and a nap. Friendship, to me, is built on laughter, honest conversations, and knowing when to say, “Yep, that was dumb. What’s next?” It’s about trust, understanding, and recognizing when to offer perspective and when to just sit beside you in the mess.

Not everything in life needs a deep dive—some things just need a good friend. When you need someone who will both encourage you and call you out (with love, of course), I’m your person.