Growing up, I was placed in many boxes. I didn’t grow up with a blueprint for “how to be me.” Instead, I was boxed into a handful of expectations — and when I didn’t fit them, I was seen as either too much or not enough, depending on who was looking.

I learned that, in a world that doesn’t know how to react to what it can’t easily define, survival can mean blending in to avoid questions or conflict.

What started as a way to stay safe eventually became a skill — noticing subtleties in people, seeing what’s underneath. It’s a skill I now use in therapy: helping others feel seen, understood, and less alone with what they carry quietly.

Q&A

Q: What is your background? How do you identify?

A: I’m Black and Vietnamese, and I later learned I’m neurodivergent. I can be impatient, impulsive, and sometimes miss social cues. My dad, a biracial immigrant from Vietnam, and my mom, a Black woman from the East Coast living in California, both moved through the world in ways that defied expectations.

Q: What do you enjoy most about being a therapist?

A: I enjoy getting in touch with my curious side. I’m interested in what motivates you, and how who you are aligns—or doesn’t—with how others see you. I’m also drawn to the parts that don’t get noticed: small joys, buried wishes, or contradictions that feel shameful to admit.

Q: How do you handle being seen yourself?

A: Being seen can still feel vulnerable for me, too. I remind myself that I can share parts of myself without needing to guarantee approval. I’ve learned to pace what I share, instead of shutting down or oversharing.

Q: What do you do to recharge?

A: I like dim lights, soft Japanese-style piano music, and an unreasonable number of hot drinks throughout the day.

Let’s see what’s hidden..