Meet Your New Therapist

So enough about you. What about me?

My personal opinion is that most therapists are drawn to psychology because their lives are messed up and they want to figure out how to fix themselves. I know that’s what drew me to psychology.

This is good news. Would you really want to go to a therapist who comes from a flawless family, lives without regret, achieves everything he sets out to accomplish, and never gets angry or sad?

How could this perfect therapist (if one even exists) possibly relate to a client who comes from a broken family, was molested by a babysitter, struggles with drug or alcohol problems, suffers from low self-esteem or recently ended a 20-year marriage due to infidelity? How could that therapist relate to you?

Odds are he can’t.

Spoiler alert: I am not that “perfect” therapist.

I was born in Denver and was adopted when I was about a month old. I grew up in Englewood in a middle-class home. My sister and brother are 8 and 5 years older than me. They are the biological offspring of my “real” parents. (By “real” I mean the parents who loved me, nurtured me, drove me to school, celebrated my successes and, without question, did the very best they were capable of doing at all times.)

My siblings and I attended Catholic schools and went to Mass every Sunday. I learned to swim at a public pool that was a 10-minute walk from home. We spent a week in Estes Park every summer. We learned to ski at Winter Park.

We had everything we needed, but …

My father was a WWII fighter pilot who suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) long before they invented that diagnosis in 1980. He would go ballistic when one of us ran out of the house and let the screen door slam.

I didn’t realize until I went to grad school that loud noises transported him back to the war. In my mind, he was just in a bad mood most of the time and didn’t really like us much.

My mother told me years later that my father used to wake up screaming, reliving in his dreams the time when his B-17 bomber was shot down over France.

My dad learned he could extinguish his dreams and quiet his mind with two or three – or four or five – Beefeater’s Martinis on the rocks on his way home from work … or on Saturday afternoons at the bowling alley … or on Sundays after church in his workshop downstairs.

This, understandably, caused conflict in the home. It also reinforced within me a sense of unworthiness. My (bio)mother didn’t want me, I reasoned growing up, and now my father would rather hang out in bars than spend time with me.

I needed to figure myself out.

When I went to college at the University of Colorado in Boulder, I gravitated toward psychology classes. It was a selfish motivation, I know. I wasn’t interested at the time in being a therapist. I just wanted to figure out why I was so miserable.

I wanted to fix myself.

Here’s how I tried to do that:

• • I went to Bible study with some guys in my dorm.
  • I attended different churches.
  • I almost joined the Moonies.
  • I hung out in a lot of bars.
  • I changed my major from psychology (because who wants to hang out with those crazy psychology majors, anyway) to accounting (because I wanted to make lots of money, but who wants to hang out with those boring business nerds, anyway) to journalism (because one thing I liked doing was writing).
  • I bought a motorcycle (but never told my mom).
  • I moved to California, where everybody is healthy, happy, good-looking and rich (or so I believed at the time), which was exactly what I wanted to be.
  • I became what you might call promiscuous (and by “you” I mean “everybody” and by “might” I mean “absolutely would”).
  • I experimented with a variety of drugs.

  But I didn’t go to therapy. I didn’t need therapy. I could figure this out on my own.

  Fast-forward a couple decades.

  The Universe created the perfect series of events that eliminated every obstacle in my path and every excuse I had made that kept me from returning to school to pursue a graduate degree in psychology – with an emphasis on figuring out why I still felt so sad and worthless despite achieving material success in life.

  After four years of school and countless hours of therapy, I think I succeeded in that task.

  And now I am ready to help you figure yourself out, too – and to create for yourself the life you want and deserve to have.

  I (used to) live and work in LoDo.

  After spending half my life away from Colorado, I moved to LoDo in mid-2018 and opened my office on the 16th Street Mall. 

  I love Denver’s vibrancy, energy and ever-changing skyline. It’s not the same Denver of my childhood, and that’s a very good thing. It’s still imperfect, but it’s improving with age. It’s happier, livelier, more engaged and far more interesting. (At least it was before Covid. Now it’s a mess. Even so, I’m confident it will return to its true potential once the 16th Street Mall project finally gets completed. Meanwhile, I closed my office in mid-2020 and currently offer online therapy exclusively.)

  The characteristics that brought me home to Denver in 2018 are those I try to embrace personally and strive to help my clients embrace as well: to accept imperfections, to engage in life fully, to improve with age, and to be happier, livelier and more interesting over time. 

  And, for those who are interested, here are my…

  Professional counseling credentials.

  • Master of Counseling Psychology with an emphasis in Spiritual Psychology – University of Santa Monica, 2004
  • Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (LMFT 44578) – State of California, 2007
  • Certified EMDR Therapist – EMDR International Association, 2013
  • Licensed Professional Clinical Counselor (LPCC 1039) – State of California, 2014
  • Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (MFT.0001441) – State of Colorado, 2017

  Now it’s up to you.

  Ready to get started?

  If so, call me now at 720.837.3466 for a free 20-minute consultation, fill out the form below or e-mail me.

  Don’t wait another day. It’s your turn now. It’s time to heal.