I work with people who are carrying things no one else can
see.
Loss that was never fully felt.
Regret about what
happened—or what didn’t.
A quiet anxiety that never fully
leaves, no matter how well life looks from the outside.
I’m
not here to cheerlead or give advice.
I stay with what’s
hard, until it softens.
Sometimes, that’s all people
ever needed.
When everything fell apart financially, maybe you held it
together publicly.
You made it sound logical—“the market,”
“a phase,” “a reset.”
But privately, it shook you.
Because
money wasn’t just money.
It was certainty. Identity.
Safety.
If the numbers never bothered you as much as
what they meant—
this space is for that part.
Sometimes grief comes as silence.
Other times it
comes as irritation, numbness, or random waves that make no
sense.
Whatever shape it’s taken in you, it deserves more
than avoidance.
I won’t ask you how you’re coping.
I’ll
ask you what you’re still carrying.
When someone close to you is in pain, you learn to disappear
from your own experience.
You show up. You hold it
together.
But the cost is internal—and often invisible.
This
is for the person who’s been holding the room,
but has no
one holding them.
Some pain doesn’t speak in words.
It shows up as tension.
Or collapse. Or zoning out when people talk.
I’m not here
to analyze you.
I’m here to notice the things even you’ve
stopped noticing.
Slowly, steadily, we look at what’s
underneath.
Not to fix you—but to stop leaving you behind.
There’s often no language for what this feels like.
No safe
place to talk without someone panicking, minimizing, or trying
to rescue you.
I won’t do that.
If your life
feels too heavy to carry, we’ll start there.
Without shame.
Without pressure.
Just breath, and space, and one real
conversation.
People think you’re lazy. Or lost.
But you’re just
exhausted from carrying too much for too long.
If even
brushing your teeth feels like a negotiation,
you don’t
need motivation.
You need someone who understands nervous
systems, trauma, and energy as survival.
Some people don’t need advice.
They need someone who
listens without rushing, reacts without fixing, and sees what
hasn’t been named yet.
In 1-on-1 sessions, I don’t
bring a formula. I bring presence.
We slow down enough to
notice what’s actually happening—beneath the story, behind the
habit, inside the silence.
A lot of couples don’t need to be “better communicators.”
They
need space to say the things they’ve been avoiding.
I
work with couples who still care about each other—but feel
distant, reactive, or stuck in invisible loops.
We don’t
solve every conflict.
We make space for the truth to return
to the relationship.
Love languages sound simple—until you realize you’ve been trying
to give love in ways the other person can’t feel.
I
won’t give you a quiz.
I’ll help you both understand how
you learned to give and receive love,
what gets in the way
of it,
and how to stop missing each other in the process.
Most people don’t realize their communication struggles aren’t
about words—
They’re about safety.
When you’re
walking on eggshells, defending yourself, or shutting down,
something
in you doesn’t feel safe enough to be fully honest.
I
work with that.
Not by teaching tips—but by helping you
rebuild trust with truth.
You don’t need to be louder.
You need to believe that your
boundaries are allowed to exist.
If setting
boundaries makes you feel guilty, or like you’re being “too
much,”
I won’t push you—I’ll help you notice what happens
in your body the moment you want to say no.
From
there, boundaries become less of a battle—and more of a return.
Real listening is rare.
It’s not just about being
quiet—it’s about being available.
I help couples
practice listening in a way that actually lands.
Where
you're not just hearing words, but receiving what the other
person is really saying.
It’s slow work. It’s subtle. And
it changes everything.
Most companies are full of quiet tension—because no one’s saying
what they really think.
After 40 years in tech and
leadership, I’ve seen what works—and what breaks people.
Most
workplace suffering doesn’t come from incompetence.
It
comes from people not telling the truth...
Letting someone go is never just a task.
It stays with
you.
The guilt, the doubts, the pressure to say it
perfectly.
I’ve had to do this more times than I
wanted to.
And what helped was learning how to do it
without shame or avoidance—while still being clear, kind, and
human.
Sometimes it’s not about conflict.
It’s about tension you
can’t name.
Energy that feels off. Conversations that
circle but never land.
In leadership, these moments
drain more than you realize.
I help you look at what’s
actually happening—without blaming or fixing—so you can respond
instead of react.
You can lead with strategy, or you can lead with presence.
Both
matter. But only one creates trust.
If you’re tired
of managing people like resources,
and ready to lead in a
way that’s human and honest,
I’ll help you build a team
where people speak up, feel seen, and stay aligned.
Sometimes the hardest part is saying what you’re good at.
Or
figuring out what parts of you belong on paper—
especially
when you’ve changed. Or burned out. Or grown in ways no bullet
point can explain.
I’ve hired, mentored, and reviewed
thousands of CVs.
I’ll help you say what needs to be
said—clearly, honestly, and without pretending to be someone
you’re not.