From a young age, I felt deeply connected to the essence of being human and driven to live authentically, beyond labels. Growing up in Illinois, I knew I was transgender, yet I never felt safe enough to share that part of myself openly. My journey was marked by solitude—learning life’s lessons without guidance, navigating challenges independently, and teaching myself resilience in the face of adversity. I experienced emotional neglect, misdiagnoses, and a cycle of medications that often felt like they were treating a misunderstood version of me. The mental health system, and much of my upbringing, left me without the support I needed, forcing me to grow and adapt entirely on my own.
In my pursuit of a career in mental health, I faced another hurdle when my practicum opportunities in Illinois were limited; local sites were unwilling to take on practicum students, stalling my education. Yet, when I visited California in 2017, I felt a profound sense of belonging—a place where I could begin anew. The following year, after the sudden loss of my brother, I decided to move west and continue my journey in a place that felt like it could truly be home. It was here that I gained momentum, turning years of hard-won resilience and self-taught lessons into a commitment to help others who, like me, may have felt unseen or unsupported.
Every experience, from the challenges of my early years to the self-reliance I developed along the way, has shaped my mission to create spaces where people feel safe to live as their true selves, free from judgment or limitation.
Pursuing a career in mental health was anything but straightforward. My father discouraged me from entering the field, convinced that I wouldn’t be accepted because of my own mental health diagnosis. He worried that my experiences would be held against me in a profession where stigma and misunderstanding were all too common. His doubts, along with those I encountered from others, only deepened my resolve to change the mental health landscape.
As I embraced my identity and transitioned into my authentic self as Noah, I realized just how critical it was for people like me to be represented in this field. I saw how much the mental health system relied on labels and quick fixes, often reducing people’s complex lives to a diagnosis or a prescription. Time and again, I would hear clients express their distrust in the system, telling me they felt unseen, judged, or silenced. Their experiences mirrored my own frustrations and the doubts others had cast on my path.
These moments have solidified my purpose: to transform mental health care into a space where every individual feels truly heard and respected, free from the limitations of prejudice and assumption. My mission is to create a foundation of accountability, humility, and genuine empathy—one where voices like mine, and those of the clients I work with, are amplified rather than silenced.
My path in mental health has been anything but straightforward. Although I entered the field in 2018, I began my journey as a clinician in 2020 during graduate school and graduated with a master’s in 2023 as a straight-A student. Over the years, I’ve held various roles: working in community mental health, crisis stabilization units, hospitals, and as an ABA therapist for children with autism. Each experience brought me closer to my mission, yet they also exposed me to some harsh realities of the field—especially as a transgender person.
A significant portion of my experience has been marked by tokenization. While my counseling skills were consistently praised, with supervisors and colleagues acknowledging my strengths as a clinician, I was often treated as a token rather than a valued team member. Organizations would present themselves as inclusive but failed to embody true allyship internally. My identity was used to boost their image of diversity, and yet I faced performative allyship, discrimination, and even unethical pressures behind closed doors.
Throughout my career, I’ve encountered deeply troubling instances of harmful allyship. Some colleagues, for instance, exhibited a ‘savior complex,’ assuming they knew what was best for marginalized individuals while actively dismissing our lived experiences. I’ve been excluded from using staff bathrooms, told that my presence ‘scared people,’ and, in one painful incident, a fellow therapist even said that trans people ‘don’t belong as therapists’ but rather ‘in the chair.’ This discrimination extended to my education, where I was removed from graduate school—not for my counseling skills, which were praised, but due to the prejudices of others. I later learned that a supervisor had lied and withheld paperwork necessary to complete my internship, forcing me to restart my training elsewhere. Fortunately, I was able to finish my internship at a private practice where I am currently working and am welcomed and supported.
I also faced direct ethical challenges in the field, including situations where licensed therapists encouraged me to lie on clients’ paperwork to cover their own actions. Although I refused to compromise my integrity, reporting these acts of discrimination and ethical violations brought no accountability. My concerns were dismissed, and I never received justice for these wrongs. At times, I felt closely monitored and controlled to the point where my microphone was turned on and off during meetings to prevent me from speaking freely. Even requests for basic self-care were denied, and I was not allowed to continue therapy for myself, despite being in a profession that emphasizes the importance of self-care.
There were moments when I felt ready to walk away from mental health entirely. But each time, I reminded myself that if I gave up, those who sought to silence me would win—and that wasn’t an option. I know that others look to me as an example of resilience, and I’ve heard from many who feel discouraged from entering the field because of the very discrimination I’ve faced. I realized that my staying power was a form of advocacy in itself, proving that it’s possible to confront these barriers and still bring about change.
Today, as both a clinician and an advocate, I am committed to creating a mental health field grounded in true accountability, humility, and integrity. My approach to therapy is eclectic, drawing from gestalt and existential practices with a focus on identity and self-discovery. I work to create spaces where my clients feel seen and respected, and I advocate for genuine allyship within the profession. My goal is to inspire a new generation of mental health professionals to lead with compassion, integrity, and authenticity, so that those who come after me can experience a field that supports them in being their true selves.