The Jigsaw Collection

My ADHD: “Wait… I have an AMAZING idea.”
Also my ADHD: “Actually, I have 7 amazing ideas and I should start all of them immediately.” 😂

Fast forward to me halfway through every single project wondering why I’m stressed, overwhelmed, and suddenly want to do absolutely none of them.

The ideas aren’t the problem. It’s the belief that every good idea needs to become a right-now idea.

So I’m practicing:

1. Write it down, don’t start it. A good idea will still be a good idea tomorrow.
2. Finish before adding. Ask: “What am I willing to pause or finish before I take this on?”
3. Check your capacity, not just your excitement. Being excited about something doesn’t automatically mean you have room for it.

Sometimes slowing down isn’t about having fewer ideas, it’s about learning that you don’t have to act on every single one. 🫠

And yes, I am writing this while thinking about three other projects I want to start.

Working with teens means learning an entirely new language. 😂

Half the time I’m their therapist, and the other half I’m trying to figure out what a word means based purely on context clues.

But honestly, working with teens is one of my favorite things. They’re funny, brutally honest, incredibly insightful, and once you earn their trust, they’ll let you into a whole world that adults don’t always get to see.

You just have to keep up with the language. 😂

Sometimes, we already know the answer. We just need to hear it reflected back to us. 🤍

As human beings, reassurance and validation can help us regulate uncertainty and feel more confident in what we already intuitively understand. Sometimes it’s not about needing someone else to make the decision for us, it’s about feeling seen, understood, and supported while we make it ourselves.

There’s nothing wrong with seeking perspective. The goal is simply to learn how to let reassurance support your inner voice, rather than replace it.

Sometimes therapy isn’t about finding the answer. It’s about trusting yourself enough to believe the answer you already have.

When the 60-minute session is over but you’re not ready to leave yet. 😂🛋️

Sometimes the therapy room really does feel like the safest space, a place where you can exhale, be fully yourself, and leave the outside world at the door. 🤍

The doorknob confession… every therapist knows this moment. 😂🧩

You’ve spent the whole session talking, processing, maybe even laughing a little. We’re wrapping up, you’re grabbing your things, your hand is practically on the doorknob and then

“Oh, by the way… there’s one more thing.”

And suddenly it’s the biggest thing you’ve said all session. 😭

From a therapist’s perspective, we know this usually isn’t intentional. Sometimes it takes the entire session to build up enough safety or courage to finally say the thing you’ve been holding onto. Sometimes saying it right before you leave feels a little less vulnerable than sitting with it for another 30 minutes.

And yes… internally we might be thinking, “You waited until NOW?!” 😂 But clinically, we’re also paying attention. Because sometimes the thing said at the door tells us exactly where we need to begin next time.

Therapy is funny like that. The hardest things don’t always come out when there’s plenty of time left. Sometimes they come out when you finally feel ready.

There’s a lot of conversation right now about what therapists should do, how therapists should show up, and what makes a therapist “good” or “bad.” And accountability in this field matters. Therapists should be held to a high standard.

But there’s another truth we need to make space for:

A therapist cannot change another human being.

We can create safety. We can challenge patterns. We can offer insight, tools, perspective, accountability, and support. We can sit with you in the uncomfortable places and help you understand parts of yourself you’ve spent years avoiding.

But we cannot do the work for you.

Therapy is a relationship, not a rescue mission.

The client has to be willing to participate. To be curious. To practice something different. To look inward. To come back after a hard session. To acknowledge when something isn’t working. And when obstacles get in the way, that’s where the therapist and client work together to understand them and find another way forward.

A great therapist isn’t someone who magically “fixes” every person who walks through their door. A great therapist creates the conditions for change but ultimately, the client has to choose what they do with them.

Therapists have responsibility in the therapeutic process. And so do clients. Both things can be true.

Healing is collaborative. 🤍🧩