For so many women I work with (especially BIPOC women balancing caregiving, careers, and community) saying no feels impossible. Even when you know you’re overextended, the word gets stuck in your throat.

This isn’t just about scheduling or time. From an attachment perspective, saying yes when you want to say no often comes from early lessons about what it took to stay safe, loved, or chosen.

In the midst of a government shutdown, many people scramble to understand the economic, political, and logistical fallout — what’s less discussed is the emotional toll. As a licensed therapist specializing in attachment trauma, I see how systemic instability mirrors internal instability. That disruption opens the door to anxiety, shame, overworking, and reactivated wounds. If you’re Googling “shutdown mental health effects” or “how economic stress impacts anxiety”, you’re not alone. This post is for you. Below, I break down:

• What instability does to our nervous systems

• Why financial and institutional stress magnify trauma symptoms

• Actionable strategies to regulate in this kind of crisis

Let’s bridge the gap between macro events and inner experience — so your coping isn’t just survival, but rooted in healing.

Shame isn’t the same as trauma. Trauma shouts “something bad happened to me.” Shame whispers “I am bad.” Too often, therapy highlights trauma symptoms and misses shame—the silent voice that says you’re unworthy of connection, love, or belonging.

Change shouldn’t feel like betrayal, but sometimes it does. For many of us carrying unresolved attachment wounds, even the most welcome life shifts can activate a deep sense of alarm. My work centers on helping you understand that reaction, name it, and gently guide yourself through it.

Last weekend, my son and I took a much-needed trip to Legoland. Between the laughter, the colorful chaos, and the smell of soft pretzels, something powerful unfolded. It wasn’t just play. It was a masterclass in secure attachment, tucked inside a few seconds at the Jungle Jump slide.

What happens when the person you’re supposed to trust most turns out to be the source of your deepest pain? In Netflix’s Unknown: The Girl in the Picture, we witness a real-life story that eerily mirrors what many clients bring into the therapy room: attachment wounds so complex they blur the line between love and betrayal. This isn’t just a true-crime documentary—it’s a case study in how trauma shapes the nervous system, our sense of safety, and how we show up in relationships. If you’ve ever wondered how attachment patterns form, this is the blog you’ll want to sit with.

Bullying Isn’t Just a School Problem, it Can Stay With You

We often point to family dynamics (absent parents, emotional enmeshment, or insecure bonds) as the roots of attachment trauma. But there's another path that’s less talked about and just as damaging: childhood bullying.

In one episode of her podcast, Michelle Obama described what it felt like to be the only Black woman in many of the rooms she walked into. She talked about the weight of that experience, not just the responsibility, but the loneliness.

That moment stopped me. Because it echoed what so many of my clients describe, especially those navigating high-achieving spaces while carrying complex identities: “I’m here. But am I seen?”

Let’s just say it: Therapy can feel expensive.

When groceries are up, rent is climbing, and your paycheck feels like it evaporates faster than you can say “self-care”, investing in therapy might feel unrealistic. And if you’re someone who already prides themselves on being resourceful, it can be tempting to try to piece together your healing through free online resources, social media, or even ChatGPT.

Let’s be real: Success doesn’t always feel like success.

On paper, you’re crushing it—degrees, promotions, showing up like the dependable one everyone counts on. But inside? You’re barely holding it together. And even when you check all the boxes, it still doesn’t feel like enough.

You’re not lazy. You’re not broken. You’re just exhausted from trying to lead while disconnected from yourself. This isn’t just burnout. It’s deeper than that, and I see it all the time.

Originally explored in The Attachment Advantage newsletter, this blog post expands on how attachment wounds show up in leadership—and why therapy can help you lead with more confidence, trust, and emotional intelligence.

In a time of growing financial pressure, economic anxiety, and social unrest, our relationship with money is under more strain than ever. And yet, for many people, particularly in BIPOC communities, the challenges we face with money aren’t just about numbers—they’re about safety, survival, and emotional patterns we’ve carried for generations.

It starts with a glance at your calendar—booked from edge to edge—and the sinking realization: there’s no margin for rest. For high-achieving professionals in leadership or caregiving roles, it’s easy to fall into a cycle of proving, producing, and pushing through. But what if success didn’t have to come at the cost of your well-being?

Women are often told that motherhood will slow down their careers, making them less competitive or less ambitious. But the reality is quite the opposite. Motherhood doesn’t weaken leadership ability—it enhances it in ways that workplaces often fail to recognize.

Returning to work after having a baby isn’t just about adjusting your schedule or balancing responsibilities—it’s about stepping into a new version of yourself. Many high-achieving women fear that motherhood will make them less competitive, less ambitious, or less effective in leadership roles. The truth? Motherhood doesn’t weaken your leadership—it enhances it in ways that often go unrecognized.

If you’ve ever doubted your ability to thrive as both a leader and a mother, this article is for you. Let’s explore the powerful leadership skills that motherhood sharpens—and how to own them in your career.

There’s a common belief that "letting go and moving on" is always the healthiest response to conflict. But what if holding onto a workplace grudge actually serves a purpose?

Most people don’t stew in resentment just for the sake of it. A lingering sense of injustice, frustration, or disappointment often signals something deeper—a boundary that was crossed, a value that was violated, or an unmet need that deserves attention.

Rather than forcing yourself to "get over it," consider how your reaction can be channeled into something constructive.

Have you ever felt pressured to give more than you can afford—just to keep the peace with family? Whether it’s contributing to a wedding, family trip, or other major expense, setting financial boundaries can feel impossible—especially when guilt and emotional manipulation are involved.

I recently shared my expert insight with Newsweek on why weddings bring out entitlement, why guilt makes it so hard to say no, and how to set firm financial boundaries without damaging relationships.

Read the full Newsweek article here

But there’s even more to this issue than what I covered in my interview. Let’s break it down.

Have you ever wondered why you keep attracting the same types of relationships, struggle with self-doubt, or feel like you have to prove your worth? The answer often lies in attachment theory—the blueprint that shapes how we connect, trust, and navigate relationships.

Do your relationships often leave you feeling unfulfilled, as if you're chasing after affection that remains just out of reach? This recurring pattern of connecting with emotionally unavailable partners is a common concern, but understanding its roots can empower you to change it.

The rollback of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives is more than a workplace shift. For many, it feels like a betrayal—an unraveling of progress that directly impacts psychological safety, trust, and belonging.

DEI initiatives weren’t just policies; they were a signal that inclusion mattered. That workplaces were making room for historically excluded communities. That systemic barriers were being acknowledged and addressed.

When these programs disappear, the impact is deeper than disappointment. It reopens attachment wounds tied to exclusion, instability, and mistrust—reminding many that their sense of belonging was conditional.