Relational Therapy in Snohomish, WA

A woman with long wavy brown hair wearing black sunglasses and a white t-shirt with distressed black text standing in front of a graffiti-covered wall.

You've gotten very good at being who everyone needs you to be.

There's a version of you that shows up everywhere — agreeable, composed, careful.

Learning to unleash your fullness and live from your truth is a radical thing to do.

Most people perform in therapy. Even good therapy.

They come in, they sit down, they say the right things. They summarize their week, they make sense of their feelings, they leave having been polite and articulate and not too much.

And then they drive home still carrying the thing they came in with.

After a decade of private practice, this is the pattern I've seen more than any other. Not because people are dishonest. Because they've never been in a room where it was actually safe to be anything other than composed.

Relational therapy is built on a different premise. The relationship between us isn't just the backdrop to the work. It is the work.

Two hands holding rings, with dark background and blurred surroundings.

Most therapy keeps the relationship between you and your therapist out of the way.

Relational therapy puts it at the center, because the patterns you live out in the world are the same ones you'll bring into the room, and that's exactly where we start.

The way you show up with me:

What you say

What you hold back

How you respond when I get something wrong

Whether you feel safe enough to tell me when you're annoyed or confused or not okay,

…that's not incidental.

That's the material. Because the patterns you live out in the world are the same patterns you'll bring into this room, and I love creating a space for clients to “try on” different versions of themselves while they are in their discovery of who they truly out when you remove all the conditioning.


You can be late. You can be grumpy. You can disagree with me, push back on my interpretations, tell me I missed the point entirely. You can fall apart. You can sit in silence. You can say "I don't know" twelve times in a row and not apologize for it.

Whatever version of you walks through the door is the version we work with. Not the polished one, not the one who has it mostly together, not the one who came prepared with things to talk about.

The healing that happens when people finally stop performing, even in the therapy room, is unlike anything else I've witnessed in this work. It's the difference between talking about your life and actually living something different inside a relationship that can hold all of it.

That's what I'm here for.

You are allowed to be a mess in here.

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What we might explore

Relational therapy is well suited for people working through:

How this works alongside other modalities

Relational therapy isn't separate from the other work we do together. It's the container that makes the other work possible.

In brainspotting work as well as relational work, we check in with your body often.

When does it contract?

When does it expand?

How do you know you’re feeling like you need to perform?

What does your body feel like when it gets to be honest?

Can we allow your body to share it’s wisdom so that we can honor all the hard work it has done to keep you safe, and then offer your body a new way of being more Present?

When you feel safe enough to be fully yourself with me, brainspotting goes deeper. Subconscious work becomes more honest. The ancestral threads we pull on together have more room to move. The relationship we build is what allows everything else to open.

Ready to find out what's possible when you stop performing?

The 30-minute consult is yours. Come as you are, grumpy, uncertain, or not quite sure this is the thing. That's exactly the kind of honesty we're building toward.