East Asian Therapist NYC
Who I Am & Why I Do This
I didn't set out to become a therapist. I thought I'd be a philosopher
I studied philosophy at the University of Hong Kong, mostly political philosophy and existentialism, questions about what constitutes a good life, what makes an ethical political structure, and what gives life meaning. Then the 2019 protests happened during my time there, and I watched abstract ideals crumble against reality. It struck me how powerless theory can be when facing the complexity of the real world and the actual suffering of individuals.
That's when something shifted. I didn't want to just theorize about social change anymore: I wanted to help individuals create it in their actual lives.
But there's another truth: I've been preparing for this work my whole life without knowing it. Growing up with emotionally unpredictable parents, I became intensely attuned to other people's emotions. I developed this survival skill of reading what's unspoken, anticipating what others needed, trying to manage the emotional atmosphere to feel safe.
That hypervigilance was exhausting. But it also gave me a kind of sensitivity that's become central to how I work. I can sense what's happening beneath the surface: the feelings you can't quite name, the patterns you can't see yet.
Becoming a therapist brought everything together: the philosophical questions I couldn't abandon, the need to create concrete change, and a lifetime of learning to attune to what beneath the surface.
How I Work
I work from two complementary perspectives that, together, create the conditions for deep change.
The first is psychodynamic / psychoanalytic. This lens helps me get close to your inner world, to understand how you experience yourself, others, and relationships. It reveals the patterns that shape your emotional life: why you shut down in conflict, why intimacy feels dangerous, why you can't stop replaying certain interactions. These patterns often have roots in early relational experiences.
But understanding alone doesn't create change. This is where the second perspective comes in: experiential, emotion-focused work. I'm trained in AEDP (Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy), EFT (Emotion-Focused Therapy), IFS (Internal Family Systems), and EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing). These approaches help us move from talking about your feelings to actually experiencing and transforming them.
Here's what this looks like in practice: I use the psychodynamic lens to help us understand what's stuck and why: the defensive patterns, the relational wounds, the parts of you that had to go into hiding. Then we use experiential methods to work directly with those stuck places. Not by forcing anything, but by creating enough safety that your nervous system can actually process what it couldn't before.
This integration is especially powerful for trauma. We're not just telling your story or analyzing what happened. We're helping your body and brain complete the defensive responses that got frozen, metabolize the emotions that were too overwhelming, and create new relational experiences that contradict the old implicit beliefs.
The psychodynamic understanding tells us where to go. The experiential processing shows us how to get there. Together, they create the possibility for transformation that lasts.
What Makes My Approach Different
I don't do surface-level therapy. I don't teach coping skills or help you "manage" your anxiety. What I do is go deep—into the emotions you've learned to suppress, the patterns that keep you trapped, and the neural pathways that need to be rewired for real, lasting change.
Many therapeutic approaches focus on symptom reduction and coping strategies, which can be valuable, especially in crisis. But if you’re reading this, you’re probably looking for something more: not just to manage your anxiety or get through the day, but to understand why you’re anxious and transform the patterns that keep you stuck in anxiety in the first place. I’m interested in transformation, not management.
I’m also deeply passionate about understanding the neuroscience behind how that transformation happens. Real change occurs at the neurobiological level. When we process emotions in a safe, attuned relational context, we’re literally rewiring neural pathways. We’re creating new implicit patterns of relating. We’re helping your nervous system learn that it’s safe to feel, that connection doesn’t mean threat, that you can be yourself without rejection. This is why experiential processing is so powerful.
We’re creating new relational experiences that your brain encodes as evidence that things can be different. Your nervous system begins to reorganize around safety instead of threat.
My goal is deep, lasting transformation. Not just symptom relief (though that often comes), but fundamental shifts in how you experience yourself, your emotions, and your relationships. The kind of change that persists because it’s been rewired into your nervous system.
I believe I build the kind of therapeutic relationship with my clients where transformation becomes possible.
This matters because healing happens in real relationship, not in a one-way dynamic where you’re the only one being vulnerable. When I share what I’m noticing or feeling—”I feel this heaviness in the room right now” or “Something shifted in your face just then”—it helps you access what’s happening inside you. When I occasionally share something from my own life that connects to what you’re going through, it lets you know you’re not alone, that your struggles make sense.
I’m also deeply attuned. I track not just your words but your body, your energy, the moments you disconnect or shut down. I notice when you’re intellectualizing to avoid feeling, when you’re people-pleasing even with me, when something important is happening beneath the surface.
And I’m warm. I’m genuinely moved by your courage to be here, to feel what you’re feeling, to show me the parts of yourself you’ve kept hidden. I’ll tell you when something touches me, when I see your strength, when I notice you being hard on yourself.
Cultural & Personal Bridges
There are specific personal experiences that shape how I understand and relate more to certain struggles.
Growing up in China
gave me intimate knowledge of East Asian family dynamics and the pressures of competitive achievement culture. I know what it feels like to navigate parental expectations that feel impossible to meet, to carry guilt towards your parents, shame about yourself, to struggle with the emotional distance and boundary. I understand the harsh internal critics, the pressure to prove your worth through achievement, the conflict between family expectation and personal authenticity.
Training competitively in Go
(Chinese chess) taught me about performance anxiety from the inside. I know the terror of losing, the way your sense of self can collapse when you don't perform well, the perfectionism that tries to protect you but ends up paralyzing you. If you struggle with competition, in sports, academics, career, I understand that particular kind of pressure.
My philosophy background
means I can work with the deeper existential questions that often underlie psychological struggles: Who am I when I'm not performing? What do I actually want, separate from others' expectations? What does it mean to live authentically? These aren't abstract questions, they're often at the heart of why people seek therapy.
I work bilingually
in English and Mandarin. For some clients, certain emotions or parts of their experience are more accessible in one language. We can move between languages to reach whatever feels most true.