Exploring the psychological roots of imposter syndrome and practical, therapeutic approaches to overcome chronic self-doubt and build lasting confidence.

Exploring the revolutionary potential and concerning risks of artificial intelligence in mental healthcare as technology reshapes how we approach psychological treatment.

Few conversations feel as daunting to parents as explaining death to a child. Whether prompted by the loss of a beloved pet, the death of a grandparent, or a child's innocent questions about mortality, these moments require us to balance honesty with protection, clarity with comfort. The instinct to shield children from difficult truths often conflicts with their need for understanding and emotional processing.

When parents consider therapy for their child or teenager, they often envision one-on-one sessions with a therapist—a private, safe space where their young person can explore their feelings without judgment. While individual therapy remains invaluable, group therapy offers something fundamentally different and equally important: the opportunity to heal and grow in relationship with peers facing similar challenges.

The question of when and how to introduce screens to young children has become one of the most pressing parenting dilemmas of our time. With technology increasingly woven into daily life, parents often find themselves navigating between conflicting advice about screen time limits, educational apps, and the fear of creating unhealthy dependencies.

The line between healthy tech engagement and problematic avoidance has become increasingly blurred for emerging adults. Parents, clinicians, and young adults themselves often struggle to distinguish when extensive screen time represents adaptive connection versus a retreat from developmental challenges.

Mental health support for LGBTQ+ adolescents is not just beneficial—it is essential.

Caregiving is an act of love and responsibility—one that often unfolds slowly, accumulating layers of emotional complexity and logistical burden.

Many people associate identity development with adolescence or young adulthood, when we’re encouraged to ask: Who am I? What do I want from life?

Understanding trauma often means looking backward—toward childhood, early relationships, and the emotional environments that shaped our development.

In today’s competitive academic and social environments, many high-achieving teens are quietly burning out. On the surface, they appear motivated, disciplined, and successful—but underneath, they may be exhausted, anxious, and disconnected from themselves.

Failure is often viewed as a stopping point—evidence that something has gone wrong or that progress has unraveled. In therapy, clients may carry this mindset into the room, interpreting setbacks as personal flaws or signs of regression. But what if failure wasn’t the end of the story, but rather a meaningful chapter in it?

Adolescence is a powerful yet vulnerable period of development, marked by emotional turbulence, social shifts, and a search for identity. In the midst of this complexity, one of the most protective skills a young person can develop is reflective function: the ability to make sense of their own and others’ thoughts, feelings, and motivations.

Emotional intimacy is the heartbeat of a healthy relationship. It’s what allows partners to feel seen, known, and deeply connected—even during moments of conflict or stress. Yet for many couples, sustaining that sense of closeness can be challenging, especially amid the demands of daily life or in the wake of relational ruptures.

Eating disorders are rarely just about food. Beneath the surface, they often reflect deep struggles with safety, control, and identity—many of which are rooted in early or unresolved trauma. A trauma-informed approach to eating disorder treatment acknowledges the complex interplay between past experiences and present symptoms.

Adolescence is a time of intense emotional growth, but for some teens, the intensity becomes overwhelming. Many struggle with mood swings, impulsivity, and, in some cases, self-harming behaviors that signal deep emotional dysregulation. For families, these moments can feel frightening and confusing, especially when traditional strategies don’t seem to help.

Managing screen time with teens often feels like an endless negotiation. Between schoolwork, social media, and entertainment, technology is deeply woven into their daily lives—and, truthfully, ours too. Rather than aiming for total control, many families benefit from shifting the goal: building a balanced, respectful relationship with technology.

Working with neurodivergent adolescents invites us to stretch beyond traditional therapeutic frameworks and engage with difference—not as disorder, but as variation. In a world that often misunderstands or pathologizes neurodivergent ways of thinking, feeling, and relating, therapy can become a vital space of affirmation, curiosity, and support.

I want to dispel a few of the most common myths about mindfulness below in the hopes that you, too, will give it a try!

The term "Highly Sensitive Person" (HSP) was coined in the 1990s by psychologist Dr. Elaine Aron, marking the formal recognition of a trait that affects millions worldwide. While several popular psychology books have explored this topic over the years, many remain unaware that high sensitivity is not just a self-help concept but an extensively studied trait with substantial research evidence backing it.