None of us were taught how to be in a relationship. We learned by watching what was modeled in our homes and hoped that good intentions and genuine love would be enough to carry us through. But relationships are complicated. They’re messy. And they rarely unfold the way we imagine they will.

I help couples and partners slow things down so we can understand what’s really happening between them. When pain enters a relationship, listening becomes risky; we fear our experience will be minimized or dismissed, so we brace and dig in. I help couples step out of those defensive positions, feel heard, and begin responding to one another with clarity rather than protection.

Having served as a first responder, I understand the weight the uniform carries. You’re exposed to parts of humanity most people never see, and you’re expected to move toward danger without hesitation. The pressure isn’t always loud or constant, but over time, it accumulates like a callous. And slowly, it can change how you relate to yourself and the people you love.

I work with first responders to help them keep showing up, both on the job and at home. Together, we make sense of how the work seeps into relationships, shapes emotional distance, and strains your connection with your partner, who may not fully understand the weight of the uniform. You don’t have to choose between being effective at work and present in your life.

Less than 1% of those eligible to serve actually do. That number is often a source of pride, but it also comes with a quiet cost: isolation. Many military members and veterans keep their struggles to themselves, worried that no one outside the uniform will truly understand.

I help service members and veterans break that isolation. Healing happens in connection, not in silence. My work centers on rebuilding relationships, restoring closeness with loved ones, and dismantling the stigma that reaching out means you’re weak. It doesn’t. It means you’re human.

While working inside one of Arizona’s largest hospitals, I saw clear parallels between healthcare workers and military members. Most people never witness what happens behind hospital doors or the emotional toll placed on those who work there.

Healthcare workers are asked to hold relentless empathy while facing trauma and death almost daily. The nervous system was never built for that kind of sustained exposure. Still, you must carry on because lives are on the line.

I help healthcare workers meet themselves with compassion rather than self-judgment, so rest is possible. We explore how this weight comes home with them and how it impacts their relationships, boundaries, and ability to rest. You don’t have to carry this alone.

Many high-stress professions demand constant focus, responsibility, and emotional control. Over time, that pressure doesn’t stay at work; it follows you home. What often shows up isn’t collapse, but distance: less patience, less availability, and a growing sense of disconnection from the people who matter most.

I work with professionals in high-pressure roles to understand how chronic stress shapes the way they show up in relationships. Together, we examine how work demands influence your communication, emotional presence, and intimacy, often in unintended and hard-to-name ways.

Therapy becomes a space to slow things down, restore connection, and help you show up with the people you care about without feeling like you’re failing at work or at home. This isn’t about doing less, it’s about staying human in the middle of pressure.