My Story To Becoming A Therapist

I never dreamed of being a therapist. In fact, it wasn’t a career I ever even considered. Growing up, I admired my dad—he was a lawyer who eventually became a full circuit judge. I was fascinated by the law, loved hearing about his cases, and found meaning in that kind of work. The law resonated with me because it was built on logic and reasoning—black and white, clear-cut. Those qualities appealed to me, and I often considered becoming an attorney. But life has a way of guiding us onto the path we are meant to walk.

I imagined being a writer, traveling the world, maybe working for National Geographic, and living the life of an explorer and nomad. I craved experiences, adventure, and the chance to see the world. And in many ways, I am still working on that dream…

I never expected to end up helping people. Sure, I was a good listener, and my friends often came to me for advice. They appreciated my openness, nonjudgmental nature, and ability to synthesize issues into clear solutions. But the idea of building a career around helping others solve their problems never even crossed my mind.

A Rocky Start

In college, I was pretty directionless. I initially declared journalism as my major, but British literature courses nearly did me in. I felt like I was reading a foreign language—I didn’t get it. Worse, I had no interest in it, which was a guaranteed recipe for failure. By the end of my freshman year, my GPA had sunk to a dismal 1.75. Who knew that attending classes actually mattered?

That’s when my father sat me down and laid it out in his usual, no-nonsense way: “I’m not paying for school unless you maintain a 3.0 GPA. Period.” My dad never minced words, and he always followed through. He also gave me some solid studying strategies that actually helped. But the best piece of advice? “Study something that interests you.”

Determined to turn things around, I met with my academic counselor. I needed to change my major, but to what? My counselor suggested focusing on my required courses while sprinkling in a few classes that intrigued me. I took her advice and chose two electives: Eastern Religions in the first semester and Abnormal Psychology in the second. Little did I know those choices would alter the course of my life.

The First Turning Point

There are moments in life that shift everything. Taking that Eastern Religions class was one of them.

Since childhood, I have felt a deep connection to God. Growing up Jewish, I was raised with a strong spiritual foundation but without the rigid conditioning that often instills fear in exploring other traditions. Instead, I found different spiritual paths fascinating.

There’s a saying: What you seek is seeking you. On a subconscious level, I was searching for peace. I wanted to find a way out of my inner turmoil—the pain of losing my father at ten years old, the challenges of being in a blended family, and the emotional chaos that surrounded me. Despite the outward appearance of privilege—a nice home, affluent neighborhood, great friends, trendy clothes, even a horse—I carried an immense amount of emotional pain. But in the 1980s, no one talked about mental health. Therapy was for the "crazy" people, and emotions weren’t discussed.

Studying different religions fascinated me, but Buddhism—specifically Tibetan Buddhism—felt like home. I told my professor I must have been a Buddhist in a past life because the teachings felt so profoundly familiar. Seeing my enthusiasm, he introduced me to meditation and connected me with a sangha (community). I dove headfirst into Buddhist teachings, and for the first time, I felt relief.

Buddhism teaches that suffering arises from attachment—wanting things to be different than they are. The Buddha was the ultimate psychologist, a master of the mind. His teachings calmed my system, soothed my soul, and gave me hope. This was my first significant signpost on the path to becoming a therapist.

The Second Turning Point

The second life-changing moment happened when I took Abnormal Psychology.

Dr. Bem Allen, the department head, taught the class. I had chosen it to fill my schedule and, if I’m honest, because I thought it would be an easy A. But from day one, I was captivated. Psychology came to me effortlessly. Unlike literature, where I felt lost, psychology felt like a language I already spoke. I aced every test without struggle.

One day, Dr. Allen called me into his office, a room stacked high with books—a sight I loved. He asked, “How did you get into this class?” Confused, I told him I had registered like everyone else. He pressed again. I had accidentally enrolled in a graduate-level course as an undergrad.

After sorting that out, he asked, “How are you doing so well?” I shrugged. “I don’t know; this class is easy for me.”

He smiled and asked, “Have you ever considered a career in psychology?” I told him I wanted to be a writer and travel, and he suggested I give psychology serious thought.

That conversation planted a seed. School had never come easy for me—until now. The idea of studying something I naturally understood was compelling. I changed my major to psychology with minors in sociology and women’s studies. Suddenly, I loved college. I had direction.

Finding My Purpose

After graduating, I pursued a master’s degree in counseling and found my way into the helping profession. Looking back, I see that all the pain I endured—losing my father, the struggles of a blended family, my mother’s mental illness, and generational trauma—became the fuel that pushed me to heal. More importantly, it motivated me to help others heal.

Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, I was searching for my way home, only to realize I had been on the path all along.

For the past 30 years, I have helped people create happier lives, free themselves from suffering, and heal the wounds that come with being human. And while a part of me still dreams of writing books in a cozy mountain cabin, I am deeply grateful for the journey that brought me here.

Healing & Gratitude

I became the therapist I once needed.

I wanted a way out of my own suffering—the grief of losing my father, the struggles of my past, the emotional chaos I endured. But I always believed healing was possible. I just needed to find the path.

Through years of study, deep inner work, and experience, I have come out the other side. I have learned to change my mind, regulate my nervous system, forgive, live with gratitude, release the past, and love myself. And now, I get to teach others how to do the same.

If it weren’t for my hardships, I might never have pursued this path so fiercely. And for that, I am grateful. Grateful for the pain, the sadness, the lessons, the light, and the healing. Because, in the end, they led me here—to a life of purpose, meaning, and service.

And for that, I wouldn’t change a thing.