As I became more open about my own struggles, something unexpected happened. Friends, family and even people I barely knew began inviting me into theirs. Time and again I found myself encouraging people to seek counselling, only to hear that they couldn’t find anyone with availability. Eventually I realised that perhaps I could become part of the answer to that problem.

I didn’t expect how quickly I would fall in love with this work.

There is something deeply meaningful about sitting with someone who feels trapped by a problem that has convinced them there is no way forward. I don’t see my role as rescuing people or telling them how to live. Instead, I hope to ask thoughtful questions that help uncover the strengths, values and experiences that have often been there all along, waiting to be noticed again.

One of the things counselling has taught me is that people are always trying their best. Often what looks like failure, weakness, poor behaviour or “being stuck” makes much more sense once we understand the stories, relationships and experiences that have shaped a person’s life. I hope that, over time, the problems people bring begin to feel a little less like evidence that something is wrong with them and a little more like part of the very human complexity of being alive.

If someone were to ask what I hope people experience after spending time with me, I think my answer would be this: I hope they leave feeling less alone, less ashamed, and a little more connected to their own capacity to respond to life. I hope they discover that they have more agency than the problems they’ve been facing have led them to believe.

I’m especially drawn to conversations where people feel caught beneath powerful expectations—whether those come from family, culture, work, relationships or faith. I enjoy exploring how these stories have come to shape someone’s life and, together, wondering whether they still deserve the authority they’ve been given. This isn’t about replacing one set of answers with another. It’s about creating space for people to thoughtfully discern which voices they want to keep listening to as they continue writing their own lives.

My own Christian faith has been an important part of shaping who I am. Like many areas of my life, it continues to grow and change as I learn. Because of that, I enjoy working with people from many different backgrounds—whether faith is central to their story, something they’re questioning, something they’ve been hurt by, or not part of their life at all. I don’t expect clients to share my beliefs, and I’m committed to creating a space where your story, values and hopes remain at the centre of our work together.

Outside the counselling room, you’ll usually find me reading, listening to podcasts, cooking for friends, enjoying good conversation, or spending time outdoors around the place my wife and I call home in Okura. I love ideas, but I also believe life is meant to be lived with both feet on the ground. Some of my favourite evenings involve good food, a board game, and people who feel safe enough to laugh, disagree and be themselves.

One lesson keeps returning to me, both personally and professionally: vulnerability has a remarkable way of connecting us. It doesn’t solve every problem, but it reminds us that we don’t have to face life alone. I certainly don’t have everything figured out, but I hope to keep becoming someone who lives with a little more curiosity, a little more honesty and a little more love each day.

If you’re considering counselling, I’d be honoured to meet you and see whether I’m the right person to walk alongside you for part of your journey.