Raw Psychology Clinic

A little snapshot of the areas I most commonly bring into my own supervision and mentoring work 🤍

✨ Business mentoring + reflective practice
✨ EMDR + parts work
✨ PMDD + women’s health
✨ Neuroaffirming care + practice
✨ Psychological assessments
✨ Working with chronic health conditions

For me, good supervision isn’t just about building competencies or talking through difficult cases. It’s also a space to stay curious, deepen our clinical thinking, reflect on ourselves as practitioners, the dynamics in the room and keep growing in the areas we’re passionate about.

These are the spaces I currently find myself most drawn to and the areas I love helping other psychologists and mental health professionals explore more deeply.

Looking for supervision?

I and our colleagues currently offer individual supervision for psychologists and mental health professionals across these focus areas.

📩 Send us a DM to chat about supervision and whether we might be a good fit.

Being a psychologist doesn’t mean I’ve mastered wellbeing. 😂

If anything, this work has taught me how important it is to practice what we talk about.

And I also think it’s important to name privilege when we talk about wellbeing.

Some of the things that support my wellbeing are possible because of the circumstances, resources, relationships and support I have access to. Not everyone has those same choices available to them and I don’t believe wellbeing should become another thing we blame ourselves for “not doing well enough.”

Some of the ways I keep well:
✨ Protecting my boundaries around work
✨ Making space for movement and time outside
✨ Staying connected to the people who matter to me
✨ Continuing my own therapy and personal reflection
✨ Using supervision when I need another perspective
✨ Paying attention to when I’m approaching capacity rather than waiting until I’m completely burnt out
✨ And remembering that rest doesn’t have to be earned

I don’t get all of this right all of the time.

But I’ve learned that looking after myself isn’t something I do after everything else is taken care of.

It’s part of being able to show up well for myself, my family, and the people I work with. 🤍

What do you do that helps your honour your wellbeing? 💭

Our protective parts can have a felt sense in and part of the body.

The responsible part might feel like heaviness across your shoulders.

The part that suppresses emotion might show up as a tight throat or a feeling of holding your breath.

The part that’s always bracing for what’s next might struggle to let your body soften and felt as constant muscle guarding.

This is where somatic awareness can become such a useful part of Parts Work.

Instead of immediately trying to change the sensation, we can pause and get curious:

Where do I feel this?
What does it feel like?
What happens when I give it my attention?
What is it protecting me from?

Sometimes the body gives us information about a part before we have the words to explain it.

And the goal isn’t to assume every physical sensation has a psychological meaning. It’s to become curious about the relationship between what we’re experiencing emotionally and what we’re noticing in our bodies.

Sometimes the body speaks before the mind has found the words. 🤎

Emotional regulation starts with awareness.

But here’s the part I think we can miss:

Awareness also means understanding your unique sensory system.

We’re often given lists of things that are supposed to help us regulate like music, breathing, movement, touch, scent, temperature, weighted blankets…

But your nervous system doesn’t experience sensory input the same way as everyone else.

It has associations.

A particular sound might feel soothing to one person and immediately increase tension or overwhelm in another.

Touch might feel grounding and safe for one person, while feeling intrusive or activating for someone else.

A particular scent might bring a sense of comfort, familiarity and home while another scent might immediately put the body on alert.

So if a sensory pathway is already associated with stress or threat, why would we automatically choose that pathway to regulate?

Instead, I like to get curious:

What does your body already associate with safety?

What sounds do you naturally find soothing?

What textures make you feel settled?

Are there scents that bring a sense of familiarity or comfort?

What visual environments help your body soften?

What kinds of movement feel regulating rather than demanding?

Because when we experience a trigger, it isn’t always a thought that arrives first.

Sometimes it’s a sensation.

A tightening.

A shift in temperature.

A feeling in your stomach.

A change in your breathing.

A sound suddenly feeling unbearable.

A body-based response that happens before you have consciously worked out why.

Our bodies are constantly taking in information.

So regulation isn’t about forcing yourself to tolerate more sensory input or finding the one “right” nervous system strategy.

It’s about listening to the information your body is already giving you.

And sometimes the most effective regulation strategy isn’t the one someone tells you “should” work.

It’s the one your nervous system has already learned feels like safety. 🤎

What sensory pathways feel calming for you? Comment below 👇🏽

If slowing down feels harder than it “should”, there might be a reason.

I have a lot of conversations with clients about the parts of us that are incredibly productive, responsible and capable.

The part that keeps planning.
The part that anticipates everyone’s needs.
The part that says, “I’ll just do it.”
The part that finds it really hard to stop.

And sometimes, underneath all of that isn’t a belief that “I can’t cope.”

It’s a fear that if I stop holding everything together, something might fall apart, it’ll be my fault or I’ll be alone with the collapse.

Because at some point, this part may have learnt that being responsible, staying on top of things and not needing too much from others was how we kept things safe.

So when we finally have the opportunity to rest, another part can quietly ask:

But who is going to make sure everything is okay?

This is where curiosity is so much more helpful than self-criticism.

Rather than “Why can’t I just relax?”

We can gently ask:

“What is this part worried might happen if I stop?”

And then, rather than trying to force it to switch off, we can begin to rebuild a different experience.

That I can pause and things don’t necessarily fall apart.

That I can let someone else help.

That I don’t have to anticipate every possible problem.

That I can be responsible without being responsible for everything.

And slowly, those hardworking parts of us can learn that they don’t have to carry quite so much anymore.

Sometimes rest isn’t about convincing ourselves that everything is perfectly safe.

It’s about helping the parts of us that have been working so hard to discover that we don’t have to hold everything alone.🤎

There are a lot of things I do before a client walks into our clinic that probably look completely insignificant.

I fluff the cushions.

I straighten the flyers.

I adjust the lighting.

I make sure the room feels warm and inviting.

I put on rhythmic and regulating music.

And most importantly, I take a moment to breathe before the next person arrives. 🧘🏽‍♀️

None of these things are therapy.

But I think they are part of creating the conditions in which therapy can happen I. A trauma informed and neuroaffirming space.

Because so many of the men and women I work with have spent years being the person who adapts.

The person who makes themselves smaller.

The person who notices what everyone else needs before they notice what they need.

The person who learned that there wasn’t really much room for them.

So I want our clinic and therapy rooms to communicate something different.

There is space for you here. 🤎

You don’t have to perform.

You don’t have to have the right words.

You don’t have to make yourself easier to work with.

You don’t have to take care of me.

You can arrive exactly as you are.

And maybe that’s one of the quieter parts of trauma-informed therapy that doesn’t get talked about enough.

Sometimes safety isn’t something we teach.

Sometimes it’s something we begin to experience.

In the relationship.

In the environment.

In the permission to take up space.

Even, occasionally, in a freshly fluffed cushion. 🤍

💭 Why do EMDR intensives cost more than a 1:1 EMDR session? 💭👇🏽

It’s not simply because an intensive involves more hours.

A big part of the investment is in the clinical thinking that happens during and around those hours.

Before an intensive, there is individualised planning and preparation; considering your goals, history, current needs and how we can use the intensive time intentionally.

During the intensive, the plan is responsive. EMDR isn’t a script, and the work needs to be adapted to what emerges in the room.

And afterwards, the clinical work doesn’t just stop when you walk out the door.

There is consolidation, detailed documentation and reflective practice, thinking carefully about what went well, what I might approach differently, what needs further exploration, and anything that may need to be taken to supervision.

So when you invest in an EMDR intensive, you’re not simply investing in additional therapy hours.

You’re investing in a highly individualised clinical process, with time and space for the thinking that makes that process meaningful.

And for me, that’s an important part of doing this work well. 🤎

If your nervous system has learned freeze or shutdown, healing isn’t always about learning to calm down.

Sometimes, the body needs experiences of mobilisation, movement and agency.

Running, dancing, shaking, yoga, walking, swimming, strength training or any intentional movement can give the nervous system new information:

“I can move.
I’m not trapped.
I can act.
I have agency.
Mobilisation can be safe.”

We don’t just recover from trauma by thinking differently.

Sometimes, the body needs to experience something different, too. 🤍

Next time you move after a period of shutdown or freeze, just notice, what does mobilisation feel like in my body? 💭

✨ Movement isn’t a replacement for trauma therapy, and mobilisation shouldn’t mean overriding your body’s limits. The invitation is to explore movement in a way that feels safe and within your capacity. ✨

Can EMDR be done via Telehealth? 💭

Yes. 💻

And for many people, EMDR via Telehealth can be just as meaningful and effective as working in the room together.

The research on online EMDR is still developing, and the evidence base isn’t as large as it is for in-person EMDR. But what we do have is encouraging.

One service evaluation of 93 people receiving online EMDR found statistically significant and clinically meaningful reductions in symptoms across measures of PTSD, anxiety and depression.

More recent research comparing online and in-person EMDR found no evidence of differences in treatment completion, dropout or adverse events. Clients also described online EMDR as safe and effective, with some particularly valuing the sense of control and not having to travel.

And this is something I hear from clients too.

For some people, processing trauma from their own home actually feels more comfortable, more accessible and more contained.

There’s no commute after a big processing session.
No sitting in a waiting room.
No having to immediately switch back into “normal life” the moment you leave the clinic.

You can have your own familiar space around you, with your favourite blanket, your pet nearby, a cup of tea waiting for afterwards, whatever helps your nervous system feel supported.

Of course, Telehealth EMDR isn’t automatically right for everyone. I consider things like safety, privacy, stability, dissociation, your ability to regulate between sessions, and whether the online environment is clinically appropriate for you.

And importantly, Telehealth EMDR should still be delivered by a properly trained EMDR clinician, it isn’t the same as using an EMDR app or doing EMDR on your own.

So if you’ve been wondering whether EMDR can work online…

It absolutely can. And for some people, it may actually be the format that makes accessing EMDR possible in the first place. 🤍

The team at Raw Psychology Clinic can provide EMDR via Telehealth Australia wide. To learn more or book with one of our clinicians, visit www.rawpsychologyclinic.com or call 0401 410 518 📞

*Research: McGowan et al. (2021), Bursnall et al. (2024).*

💭 What is an EMDR intensive? 💭

An EMDR intensive is a more concentrated way of delivering EMDR therapy, where we create a dedicated block of time to focus on your therapeutic goals rather than spacing sessions out over weeks or months.

But there’s something important I want to clarify:

👁️ Intensive EMDR ≠ better EMDR 👁️

More therapy in a shorter period doesn’t automatically make therapy more effective.

What the research *does* suggest is that intensive formats can be an efficient way of delivering trauma-focused therapy for some people.

It can be about having more therapeutic space, more continuity and less time between sessions which can be particularly helpful for some people. It can allow for deeper integration, space and time to integrate parts work and allow for meaningful containment.

But an intensive still needs to be carefully paced.

We don’t want to overwhelm your nervous system simply because we have more time available.

A good intensive isn’t about seeing how much processing we can fit into a day.

It’s about creating enough space for meaningful therapeutic work, while staying within your window of tolerance.

And sometimes that means slowing down, taking a break, focusing on regulation or deciding that an intensive isn’t the right format for you at all.

✨ The format should serve the therapy not the other way around.