Perspective Counseling for Behavioral Health, LLC

01/26/2026

💭 “Healing isn’t just about knowing better—it’s about choosing better. Again and again, in ways that honor the person you’re becoming.”
There’s been so much talk about boundaries lately. Some say it’s just fear in disguise. And honestly? Sometimes it is.
But I believe boundaries, at their core, are rooted in self-awareness—in recognizing what drains us, what no longer fits, and what our soul is asking for.
💡 Clarity is the first step.
🚪 Boundaries are how we honor that clarity.
❤️ And self-respect is choosing differently, even when it’s hard.
✨ New blog post → Link in bio
EmotionalGrowth InnerWork TraumaInformedHealing

"Healing isn’t just about knowing better—it’s about choosing better. Again and again, in ways that honor the person you’re becoming."

01/25/2026

When you clearly communicate what you like, need, or don’t enjoy, and someone continues to do the opposite while calling it care, it creates a quiet bind.
There’s a difference between doing something for someone and doing something with their preferences in mind.
When we ignore what’s been clearly communicated, even good intentions can miss the mark.

It’s okay to say:
“I appreciate the thought, and I still need something different.”
That’s not ungrateful.
That’s honest.
Healthy relationships make room for preference, choice, and mutual understanding.

Care requires listening.
Listening requires humility.
And love isn’t proven by effort alone — it’s proven by consideration.
You’re allowed to want care that actually fits you.

“Boundaries reveal whether care is about connection — or control.”
If someone repeatedly does what they want to offer instead of what you’ve said you need, and then feels hurt when it’s not received, that’s not generosity.
That’s a mismatch in how care is defined.
You’re allowed to say:
“I’ve already shared what works for me.”
And you’re allowed to stop accepting things that don’t.

✨ Boundaries don’t reject care.
✨ They clarify how care actually lands.






HealthyCommunication

01/25/2026

“Sometimes the issue isn’t ingratitude, it’s not being listened to.”
When you clearly communicate what you like, need, or don’t enjoy, and someone continues to do the opposite while calling it care, it creates a quiet bind.
There’s a difference between doing something for someone and doing something with their preferences in mind.
When we ignore what’s been clearly communicated, even good intentions can miss the mark.

It’s okay to say:
“I appreciate the thought, and I still need something different.”
That’s not ungrateful.
That’s honest.
Healthy relationships make room for preference, choice, and mutual understanding.

Care requires listening.
Listening requires humility.
And love isn’t proven by effort alone — it’s proven by consideration.
You’re allowed to want care that actually fits you.

“Boundaries reveal whether care is about connection — or control.”
If someone repeatedly does what they want to offer instead of what you’ve said you need, and then feels hurt when it’s not received, that’s not generosity.
That’s a mismatch in how care is defined.
You’re allowed to say:
“I’ve already shared what works for me.”
And you’re allowed to stop accepting things that don’t.

✨ Boundaries don’t reject care.
✨ They clarify how care actually lands.

12/07/2025

Had an amazing night at the Jahmil Harris Foundation’s 5th Year Anniversary Sneaker Ball! 👟✨
This foundation was created to honor a meaningful legacy and continues to empower youth, uplift communities, and support individuals and families facing challenges. Proud to show up, support, and celebrate 5 years of purpose and impact. ❤️

12/04/2025

Today makes five years since my mother passed, and I’ve been sitting with memories of her — her voice, her laugh, her strength, her honesty, her love for community, and the way she poured into me without even realizing it.

There are people who leave such an imprint on your life that even after they are gone, you can still feel them shaping you. My mother, Karen was—and continues to be—one of those people for me.Five years have passed since her transition, and yet her fingerprints remain on my character, my courage...

12/04/2025

Today makes five years since my mother passed, and I’ve been sitting with memories of her — her voice, her laugh, her strength, her honesty, her love for community, and the way she poured into me without even realizing it.

Growing up, she kept her diploma hanging in the living room and reminded me and my brother constantly: “I got mine — now you need to get yours.”

That drive lives in me.
That discipline lives in me.
That boldness lives in me.
I shared a full memorial piece on my blog reflecting on who she was, what she taught me, and how her legacy continues through my journey today — personally, professionally, and spiritually.
If you’d like to read the full tribute, it’s posted now.

🌼 Link in bio.
Here’s to my mother — the woman who made me who I am.

11/18/2025

For some, grief feels heavier around the holidays — and that’s valid. But for others, the pain isn’t about the calendar. It’s about the absence itself — the empty chair, the missing voice, the moments that remind you they’re gone.

Losing my mom during the holidays taught me something important: the hardest days of grief aren’t always tied to the calendar. Here’s why — and what actually helps when you’re supporting someone through loss.

11/07/2025

It’s been really hard seeing so many people focused on Marshawn Kneeland’s touchdown on Sunday as a highlight in his life. That moment was incredible, but it’s such a small part of his story.

There’s been talk that he was struggling with the loss of his mom and with his mental health. I just want to say — grief isn’t a disorder. It’s a reflection of love, pain, and the struggle to find your footing again after someone you love is gone. Learning to live life after that kind of loss isn’t easy.
Marshawn’s story is so much bigger than football. He was a person dealing with something deeply human — loss, hurt, and trying to keep going. My heart breaks for him and for everyone who loved him.

Let’s continue to create a safe space for men to seek support, express their pain, and have their needs met without judgment. No one should ever feel like they have to carry that kind of weight alone.

If you’re hurting, please reach out — to a friend, a family member, or by calling or texting 988 for the Su***de and Crisis Lifeline. You’re not alone. 🫶🏾

10/21/2025

When I think about everything I’ve walked through — every loss, every moment of grief — one truth stands out:
my faith has been my anchor. 🌿

It’s what steadied me when the grief felt like it might pull me under.
That’s something my mother gave me early on — the foundation of faith that has carried me through every storm.
What people often call my “strength” is really God’s grace.

It’s not that I don’t feel pain; it’s that I trust I won’t be consumed by it.

✨ Finding Meaning in Grief 🌿

Grief expert David Kessler teaches that meaning-making isn’t about explaining loss — it’s about learning to live with it.
Meaning doesn’t erase pain or imply that what happened was “meant to be.” Instead, it invites us to look for what endures — the love, the lessons, and the faith that remain even after everything changes.

For me, meaning has come through faith. I’ve learned to ask, What did my mother’s life teach me? How can I carry her strength and compassion forward? That process has helped transform my grief into purpose.

Finding meaning doesn’t close the chapter; it reshapes it. It allows us to keep writing our story with the person we’ve lost still woven into every line.

💭 How has faith or meaning shaped your own healing journey?

💭 What keeps you anchored when life feels heavy?

New Blog 👇🏾

My mother gave me many things, but the greatest gift she left me was my faith. Here’s how it anchored me in grief — and how memories can keep your loved one close.

10/07/2025

Strength in Grief (2020 Reflections – Part 3 of 5)

Sometimes “strength” looks like sitting quietly, holding it all together when no one’s watching.

After my mother transitioned, people often told me how strong I was.
They meant it as encouragement — a way of recognizing that I was still showing up, still handling responsibilities, still moving through each day.

But strength doesn’t mean the absence of pain. And it doesn’t mean we don’t need support. 🌿

As a grief counselor, I’ve learned that “strong” can sometimes become a shield — a way to survive what feels unbearable. The people who seem to be coping “well” are often the ones who receive the least support.
Strength and vulnerability can exist side by side. You can be strong enough to take care of responsibilities and still feel fragile inside.

✨ New on the blog: “When ‘Strong’ Feels Like a Shield” — 2020 Reflections – Part 3 of 5
Link in bio…

If you’ve been called strong in your own grief, how did it feel?

09/23/2025

Three weeks before my mother passed, I had a dream. We were sitting at a desk in a funeral home, making arrangements together. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what it meant. Looking back, I believe it was both her way — and God’s way — of preparing me for the role I would soon need to step into. 🌿

Grief often calls us to make meaning out of what doesn’t fully make sense. For some, it’s a dream. For others, it’s a sudden feeling or sign that shows up when you least expect it. These moments don’t erase the pain, but they help us hold both the sorrow of loss and the comfort of what remains — the love, the memories, the connection that endures.

✨ New on the blog: Dreams and Intuition Before Loss (2020 Reflections – Part 2 of 5).

Read here 👇🏾

Three weeks before my mother passed, I had a dream that I didn’t fully understand until after she was gone. Here’s how that moment prepared me — and what it taught me about the connection between intuition and grief.

09/11/2025

As a trauma-informed therapist, I know how important it is to honor an individual’s perspective. What happened to you matters.

But sometimes, we get caught in the spiral of “it happened” or “it’s still happening.” We feel stuck in sadness, grief, loss — boxed in, controlled, and held back. This is especially true when the pain comes from the workplace.

In those moments, it’s easy to focus only on what the system won’t give you: the support, the recognition, the resources, the “yes” you’ve been waiting for. But what can get lost is this truth: you still have power.

Today, I spoke with a client who felt targeted at work. For a year, her director refused to support her in pursuing a new credential. she wanted the job to pay for it.

She felt dismissed, devalued, and blocked. But here’s what she shared — she went after it anyway. And she earned the credential.

It was a reminder: we have to stop giving our jobs all the leverage. Your growth, your goals, your healing do not have to be defined by what your workplace approves or funds. You have it in you to go after what you want for yourself.