The Journey

For fifteen years, I worked in the world of corporate human resources, leading teams, coaching executives, and helping others navigate the highs and lows of their professional lives. I felt so passionate about my role and loved being the person that people came to for guidance, to talk through their challenges and to find clarity in moments of uncertainty. I loved what I did so much that I actually didn’t realize (at the time) how much of myself I was giving away.

Like so many people, I wore my busyness like a badge of honour. My days ran on coffee, back-to-back meetings, and never-ending to-do lists. At first, I confused my overwhelm as an exciting challenge, and I felt invincible. I kept telling myself I was fine, that I could handle the pressure, the late nights, and the emotional weight that came from always being “on”, however, underneath the facade and mask that I wore publicly, the truth was that I was burnt out. 

Reflecting on my experience, the unsettling thing is that burnout almost became part of my identity, and I started normalizing its symptoms: the quiet exhaustion became my new normal, the constant mental fog, the loss of joy in the things I once loved; I felt like a watered down version of myself. While I thought that I was handling it well, it reached a point where I knew that I couldn’t keep pushing through because it started affecting every area of my life, including my relationships with friends and family. 

When I finally reached out for help, I remember feeling both terrified and relieved at the same time. On the one hand, while I was excited to think about new possibilities for my life where I was thriving again, I worried what people might think of me if they knew I wasn’t okay…that the person who helped others keep it together was struggling. But then…with a little bit of courage and hope, it all started to shift for me. 

In the safe, non-judgmental space of counselling, I began to breathe again. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. My counsellor helped me slow down enough to listen to myself, to the parts I had ignored for years and I began to peel back the layers of overfunctioning, perfectionism, and fear of letting go.

At the start of my healing, I made self-care and mindfulness non-negotiable. I began small: journaling a few lines each morning, five minutes of meditation, slow walks without my phone, and actually pausing to breathe before the day took over. It felt awkward at first, after years of sidelining my own needs, turning toward myself was uncomfortable, but I kept showing up. Page by page, breath by breath, the discomfort softened, and I started to reconnect with the version of myself I had been missing.

This experience of getting to know myself on a deeper level changed me. It taught me that healing doesn’t come from pushing harder, it comes from pausing, from feeling, from allowing yourself to be seen. It was through this process in my own journey that I found my calling. I realized that what I wanted most was to hold space for others the way my counsellor had held space for me, with empathy, curiosity, and compassion.

Now, as a Registered Psychotherapist (Qualifying), I support individuals who are navigating burnout, anxiety, grief, and major life transitions. My approach is collaborative and grounded in the belief that you are the expert of your own life and experiences. I am here to walk alongside you, to help you make sense of what you are carrying and to support you in reconnecting with your values, your strength, and your sense of self.

If there is one thing I have learned, it’s that you don’t have to wait for a breaking point to ask for help. You deserve support before things fall apart and even when life feels overwhelming, there is always a path toward healing. Sometimes, it starts with a single conversation.