We Are the Stories We Live. Whether I am in the therapy room, deep in research, or writing at my desk, I am driven by a single conviction: we are narrative creatures. We live by scripts. Some we wrote ourselves; others were written for us by family, by trauma, by the world. When the script stops working, the character we present begins to crowd out the person underneath. The work of a life, and the work I care about, is recovering the author.

The Work. It happens in three rooms that are really one. In the therapy room, I sit with individuals and couples facing complex trauma, anxiety, and the exhaustion of high-expectation lives. In my doctoral research, I study spiritual bypass: what happens when faith language is used to avoid pain rather than meet it. And at my desk, I write essays chasing the question underneath all of it: what does it mean to live a good life? Not merely feeling better, but character, courage, and true connection.

The People in the Work. Much of my clinical work is with men and high achievers: people successful on paper and exhausted in spirit, who learned early that performance was safer than feeling. If that is you, the writing here will speak your language. But the wounds are particular and the questions belong to everyone; so does the readership.

Faith, Doubt, and the Questions Underneath. The big questions are welcome here in any vocabulary. I grew up secular and came to faith as an adult, and I have spent my academic life among philosophers and theologians; I am equally at home with the devout, the doubting, and the long-departed. My research has made me allergic to agendas. Whether your faith is a home, a wound, or a memory, it will be treated with seriousness and without pressure.

Approach. I balance the warmth of a fellow traveler with the precision of a researcher, drawing on Narrative Therapy, Internal Family Systems, and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy. I am a doctoral candidate in marriage and family therapy at Eastern University, with a Master of Divinity behind it, and I see clients at the Nashville Center for Trauma and Psychotherapy under the clinical supervision of Abigail Myers, LMFT (TN #2151).

Away from the desk: movies, fiction, woodworking, and board games with my wife and our two cats.