I didn’t grow up learning how to talk about emotions. I grew up learning how to manage them quietly so I wouldn’t burden anyone. Like a lot of men, especially coming from an Asian immigrant family, I believed that staying calm meant staying strong. If something hurt, you pushed through it. If something didn’t feel right, you adjusted your expectations. If you were overwhelmed, you simply worked harder.
For a long time, it worked. I was responsible, steady, productive, and from the outside I looked fine. But inside, I felt disconnected. I didn’t know what I felt or why I reacted the way I did. I had a hard time being fully present in relationships because I didn’t have the language for my own internal world.
Everything shifted when I had begun taking medication for my mental health. It shook me out of the idea that I could keep going without tending to myself. I realized that my problem wasn’t a lack of strength. It was a lack of emotional vocabulary. I didn’t know how to read myself. I didn’t know how to pay attention to the things that actually mattered.
Therapy changed that for me. It forced me to slow down and look inward in a way I had never done before. I learned that emotions aren’t inconveniences or obstacles, but data. They tell us when we’re overwhelmed, when something is off, when something matters, when something needs to be protected or repaired.
When I became a therapist in 2020, that idea was something I believed for myself. After working with hundreds of clients, I now believe it as a core truth about being human.
Most of the issues we struggle with are not actually about the issue.
They’re about how we feel about the issue.
Conflict isn’t just about communication. It’s about feeling misunderstood or dismissed.
Burnout isn’t just about workload. It’s about feeling alone in your responsibilities.
Overthinking isn’t just about thoughts. It’s about fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of repeating the past.
Disconnection in relationships isn’t about distance. It’s about feeling unsafe, overwhelmed, or unheard.
Even the tendency to shut down, stay calm, or stay “unbothered” is usually about protection rather than personality.
This is what I see every day in the men I work with.
It’s what I lived myself.
Therapy, to me, is ultimately a conversation, albeit an honest one.
It’s a space where you can finally put words to what’s going on inside instead of carrying it alone. It’s where you learn to listen to yourself instead of suppressing everything for the sake of being “strong.” It’s where the things you’ve been avoiding become understandable instead of overwhelming.
I don’t show up as someone who has everything figured out. I show up as someone who also knows what it’s like to feel lost, anxious, or overwhelmed but also knows some things to address them.
My work now is helping you find clarity in the emotional parts of your life that no one ever taught you how to navigate. Not by changing who you are, but by helping you understand yourself more deeply and live with more honesty, confidence, and connection.
If you’re at the point where doing everything on your own isn’t working anymore, you’re not broken. Maybe you’re just tired of carrying everything without support.
I’d be honored to help you take the next step.
