When I was a child, I remember sitting quietly in a corner, watching people more than I spoke to them. I’d observe the way someone’s smile didn’t quite reach their eyes, or how laughter sometimes masked something heavier. I didn’t have the words back then, but I knew there was more going on beneath the surface. That curiosity—the hunger to understand what drives us, breaks us, heals us—stayed with me.
Growing up, I saw people I loved struggling with emotions they didn’t know how to name. I saw silence replace conversation. I saw strength in vulnerability, and I wished someone could hold space for all of that. That wish slowly turned into a calling.
The human mind fascinates me—not just for its complexity, but for its resilience. We carry stories, wounds, hopes, and dreams in this mysterious space between neurons. To walk alongside someone as they unravel their pain, find language for it, and begin to heal—it’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.
Being a psychologist isn’t just a career. It’s the life I chose because, deep down, I believe every mind deserves to be understood, and every heart deserves to be heard.
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