People often ask how I developed enough confidence and calmness relatively early in my clinical work. The answer isn't just about learning the case conceptualization, theory, or technique. It's supervision. Not just about the kind where you present a written case summary and discuss ideas. I mean the kind where you watch yourself on screen, moment by moment, seeing exactly where you fumbled, where you got in your own way, and where you genuinely connected with someone. That's

Many of the adult children I work with somewhat carry the same paradox: They feel suffocated by closeness, yet deeply lonely in the distance they've created to protect themselves. For many, distance feels like survival. "If I get too close, I will lose myself." The boundary may feel somewhat harsh, but it serves a purpose. It protects them from reactions, expectations, disappointments, and old wounds that still feel too painful to revisit. Then, as parents age, another emoti

I have made it a habit to write (with AI's help in polishing my language). To write about the moments in therapy that move me, that remind me why I do the work I do, and how change is often subtle before it becomes visible. This is one such story — of a man who spent fifty years carrying the weight of a world since he was eight. Let's call him Sherlock. The Journey of Healing: A Story of Transformation When he first came to therapy three years ago, he was trapped in a painful

One year ago at the graduation of completing the advance intensive course, I made a stronger commitment to deepen my understanding and application of Multigenerational Family Therapy in my work with individuals, couples, and families. Six years into learning this modality, I am grateful to now be certified as a multigenerational family therapist by Prof Dr. Maurizio Andolfi. This journey has stretched and grounded me in equal ways. It has deepened how I see others and myself

I had a very moving clinical supervision session recently that stayed with me. My supervisee—an experienced clinical psychologist who also supervises interns from masters in clinical psychology —brought in a challenging family case. He had met with a family where the parents held higher status and presented as dominant, and he found himself feeling stuck. He was deeply aware of an intense fear that arose when facing a client of authority and anger. At one point, I asked him,

In my therapy work, I often advocate for family therapy, to work directly with the person my clients have struggles with, to invite the family. When a client says, “My parents won’t come,” or “My teenager refuses,” I don’t hear a scheduling problem. I hear resistance. Often, it is protection—against shame, blame, vulnerability, or fear. Sometimes, it is protection against one more demand in a life already too heavy. If I meet that resistance too directly, I meet the defences.