My story
Read on if you’re curious to learn about my winding path towards becoming a therapist…
As a kid, I was often described as a “ball of energy.” I had an insatiable desire to run around and play sports. I lived to make people laugh and would often amuse the adults around me by putting on little shows. I could entertain myself for hours pretending to be a radio host on my parents’ cassette recorder. As most kids are, I was very in touch with my aliveness—seeking thrills and compelled to follow my curiosities wherever they took me. I often think of my work as helping people get back in touch with the vitality and joie de vivre that comes easily to many of us as kids.
Me at age 8 sporting my favourite Winnipeg Jets t-shirt
I didn’t land on being a therapist right away though. I spent my early 20s working as a caterer for synagogues in Toronto—pursuing a love of cooking that was instilled in me by my father from a young age. But after a few years of this, I felt something was missing and was searching for a deeper calling.
During this period, I started to explore how to reconnect with my Judaism in ways that felt authentic to me. I ended up at Jewish mindfulness retreat in Ontario where I had my first ever experience with meditation. Right away, I found it to be so potently healing. After a childhood where I often felt stifled by my parents, meditation gave me access to a new realm where my own experience was paramount. Here, I could feel really big and expansive without fearing my boundaries would be crossed. For the first time in my life, I had a visceral feeling that my body was mine. I felt profound freedom and aliveness.
Meditation also gave me wide open space to explore my gender as a trans person. In that space, it felt clear to me that my true essence was genderless. This meditation retreat—and many retreats after it—gave me a safe haven where nobody could misgender me. Of course, others could have their projections, but since I was so deeply in my own experience, I’d feel them energetically bounce off me. Tapping into this ability was a powerful gift that continues to nourish and protect me.
During this period, I was also exploring my cultural heritage (and baggage) in new ways. These retreats exposed me to a version of Jewish spirituality unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It was so embodied, loving, slow, and deep. Through these experiences, a clear insight emerged: the way to heal the trauma of my ancestral line was to heal my relationship to Judaism.
I come from a long lineage of rabbis, and felt drawn to the healer path that had been in my family for millenia. With the support of a medium, I’d been connecting with the spirit of my grandfather who was a rabbi. I felt him urge me to study Talmud, but something about his conventional path felt confining to me. I wanted to honour my traditions, but I needed to do it in my own way—a way that could be as free and expansive as I felt meditating.
I briefly considered becoming a rabbi, ultimately realized I was more drawn to becoming a chaplain—that is, someone who provides spiritual care to others in times of need. In 2018, I earned my Masters of Psychospiritual Studies from the University of Toronto. Towards the end of my degree though, I decided that I didn’t just want to provide short-term support to folks in need. I wanted to facilitate deeper, transformative healing—and that would only be possible through longer-term relationships as a therapist (a role that my M.P.S. also qualifies me for.)
I have now been a practicing therapist for 6 years. I love being a therapist because I get immense satisfaction from using the riches from my own healing journey to support others through dark moments and triumphs of their lives. Mentors of mine have consistently commented on the depth of my care for clients—and how naturally it comes to me. For me, there’s a clear parallel between therapy and my past life as a chef. Both roles have a similar energy, since they’re both ultimately about nourishing others.
Today, my own (ongoing) healing journey directly informs and enlivens my work as a therapist. I’ve seen time and time again that the more I invest in my own healing, the more it directly benefits my clients. This is a lifelong project I am deeply devoted to.
When I’m not seeing clients, I’m engaged in nurturing my own sense of aliveness. For me, this often looks like playing stopper in my queer recreational soccer league, nerding out about the best outdoor gear, and going on hardcore outdoor adventures—including a recent winter camping trip where temperatures dropped to -25°C.
Me and my winter camping crew enjoying the great outdoors
While I remain deeply in touch with my Jewish roots, my main spiritual practice these days is—in the words of my beloved Hakomi teacher Melissa Grace—“a simple one of returning to presence and connection in the everyday moments of life.”