How I got here.

Picture it: the 1990s, New Jersey. (Channeling Sophia Petrillo!) There I was, a teen—one of a whopping four ethnic minority students in my class—navigating the choppy seas of adolescence and working hard to develop an identity separate from my family. I would hurry to get my homework done and then lay down under my desk, phone tucked under my chin, chatting with my friends for hours as we processed our dreams and struggles. I loved every minute and I especially loved when I was able to feel helpful.

When it came time to apply for college, I was accepted into an expedited program where I would earn a BA and an MD in 6 years. I wasn’t sure whether this was the path I wanted to pursue, but my Chinese parents were delighted by my acceptance into such a competitive program and finally agreed to let me take the car out when I wanted...so I enrolled.

Cut to a few years later, I realized this was NOT for me! I wasn’t excelling because I wasn’t interested in molecules and chemical bonds (shaking my fist at the memory of organic chemistry). This was not where my passions lay. Much to my parents' dismay, I moved across the country to study psychology.

After earning my doctorate, I worked for a non-profit agency in Southern California that specialized in supporting kids, teens, and their families. I quickly rose through the ranks from therapist, to supervisor, to director. Although climbing the ladder took me away from clinical work, the administrative tasks were appealing to me since I could “tick boxes off” and use my organizational skills to support other therapists. It also tested and grew my confidence in being a leader and motivator.

For much of my life, I was faintly aware that I was all too comfortable sacrificing my own needs but I could never quite place my finger on why. It's only through my own therapy and growth process that I’ve come to appreciate how difficult it can be for so many women to express themselves in this world—to say the thing that too often is left unsaid. Maybe because it doesn't feel safe. Or to keep the peace. Or because we genuinely can't figure out what we want or if it's okay to want it.

In 2016, after 13 years at the agency, I packed up everything and moved to Las Vegas in yet another blind leap of faith. Starting from scratch in a city with absolutely no connections proved harder than I ever imagined, but I really do believe that there's profound learning in turning everything upside down and seeing how things land. I decided that I wanted to return to the work that I went to school for all those years ago: working directly with individuals to foster healing, resilience and confidence. I am grateful every day for the opportunity to serve the community while also learning more about myself, life and humanity.