A young man with glasses and dark hair sits in a waiting area, looking off to the side with a thoughtful expression. He wears a green jacket over a brown shirt and light blue jeans. The background shows a row of empty chairs, a beige wall, and a glass table.

A gold decoration depicting moons and stars.

A woman with short dark hair stands on the beach near the water, wearing a gray knitted sweater, with her eyes closed and arms crossed over her chest.

Your Brain is Working Overtime and You're Exhausted.

Anxiety Therapy For LGBTQ+ Folks Who Can't Stop Worrying — Even When Life Is Actually Okay.

You know the feeling. You make a decision, and then immediately start second-guessing it.

You replay a conversation from three days ago, picking apart what you said and what they probably thought. You are analyzing texts, tone, and every small shift in your relationships. You're lying in bed at 1 a.m., running through a mental checklist of everything that could go wrong.

And the frustrating part? You're not someone whose life is falling apart. You're showing up. You're functioning. You might even be thriving, at least from the outside.

A young woman with wavy red hair sitting on a bed, holding her forehead with her hand, appearing stressed or worried.

A non-binary person with short curly hair and multiple earrings sitting on a tan leather sofa, using a laptop in a modern indoor space with a plant and small potted plants in the background.

But inside, the volume never really turns down.

The worry shows up everywhere — at work, in your relationships, in social situations where you're smiling and nodding while your brain is running a quiet commentary on everything. Sometimes it spikes into panic. More often it's just this low, constant hum that makes it hard to be fully present for your own life. You've probably tried to logic your way out of it. You know the worrying isn't always rational. Knowing that doesn't make it stop.

“You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy.”

― Andrea Gibson

Here's something worth saying: some of what you're feeling isn't just in your head.

If you're queer, trans, or BIPOC, you're navigating a world that isn’t always safe — and right now, that's especially true. A nervous system that's always scanning for threats makes sense when threats have been real. Anxiety that developed as a way to stay prepared, stay careful, stay okay — that didn't come from nowhere.

For many people, it goes back further too. Growing up without stable models of what calm, secure, healthy relationships looked like — that leaves a mark. You learned to monitor everything because monitoring everything kept you safe. It was smart, once. Now it's just exhausting.

None of that means you're stuck with it.

A non-binary trans man with short black hair sitting on grass in a park, wearing a colorful, checkered, textured sweater, a white undershirt, and gray jeans, looking to the side with a neutral expression.

A colorful abstract digital landscape with various shapes and shades of beige, green, blue, and orange.

Gold stars and sparkles against a black background.

In our work together, we slow down enough to understand what your anxiety is actually about — not just manage it.

That means looking at the patterns: the overthinking, the people-pleasing, the difficulty trusting your own instincts. Where did those come from? What are they protecting? And what would it feel like to need them a little less?

It also means building real tools — not just coping strategies to white-knuckle through hard moments, but a different relationship with your own mind. One where you can hear the worry without being run by it. Where you can make a decision and let it land. Where you can be in a room with people you care about without spending the whole time in your head. Where you can move through your relationships without constantly worrying that you're too much, not enough, or going to screw everything up.

This isn't about becoming someone who never worries. It's about getting your life back from the worry that's taken up too much space in it.

The Process of Therapy

What Working Together Looks Like

Step 1: Free Consultation

Start by scheduling a free 15-minute video consultation. We’ll use this time to talk about what’s bringing you to therapy, what you’re hoping for, and whether working together feels like a good fit.

Step 2: Getting to Know You

In our first few sessions, you’ll have space to share your story at your own pace. We can start wherever feels most important to you, and I’ll ask questions to help us understand your experiences, patterns, and goals.

Step 3: Ongoing, Consistent Support

We’ll pick regular times to meet for ongoing sessions. Therapy is a collaborative process—I’ll support you in exploring what’s coming up, offer practical tools, and help you make sense of patterns as they emerge. You’ll have a steady, affirming space to process, grow, and build new skills.

Schedule a Free Consultation

A woman with brown hair, wearing a burgundy top, sitting at a desk with a laptop decorated with various stickers, a water bottle, and a pair of glasses.

We might be a good fit if…

You describe yourself as an overthinker — and have for most of your life.
Your anxiety doesn't always have an obvious cause, which somehow makes it harder to explain.
You hold it together well externally, but it costs you.
You're self-aware enough to know something needs to change, and tired enough to finally do something about it.
You want a therapist who understands what it means to be queer or come from a marginalized background or both — not one you have to educate before you can get to the real stuff.

You don't have to keep living at this volume.

If any of this sounds familiar, I'd love to talk. I offer a free 15-minute consultation — no pressure, no commitment. Just a conversation to see if we're a good fit.

Schedule a Free Consultation

Currently accepting clients in Michigan and Florida. Virtual sessions only.