About
About Mike
I like talking to people. I like learning how someone thinks, what makes them laugh, what they care about, and the parts of themselves they're still trying to understand. I smile a lot, I joke, and I don't feel a need to make therapy more formal than it needs to be.
Becoming a therapist wasn't always the plan. In fact, I originally moved to Austin to pursue music. But when I started considering a new path, I recognized that therapy brought together a lot of things I already cared about: understanding people, asking questions, having conversations that go somewhere unexpected, and staying curious about why we do the things we do.
I was raised Orthodox Jewish in El Paso, in a small community where living according to my religion made me visibly different. I experienced both the safety that came from being surrounded by my community, as well as the fear that came from belonging to a community that could make me a target.
Growing up in a predominantly Hispanic city, I was often aware of being one of the few white people in the room. But I was also a white kid from a middle-class family in a city with a lot of poverty. I learned early that I could be in the minority in some spaces while still carrying significant privilege in others. Those experiences still affect the lens I bring to my work today, particularly how I think about identity, belonging, power, and privilege.
As I got older, the religious world I had inherited stopped fitting me. Leaving meant I had to reconsider a lot of my core beliefs, relationships, and parts of my identity. I found a therapist to help me figure out which parts of my past I wanted to hold on to, and which parts I wanted to let go. That's one reason religious trauma became an important part of my work.
My neurodivergence is also part of how I show up as a therapist. I might fidget with something in my hand, lose my train of thought for a second, or take an unconventional route toward making a point. I try not to hide those parts of myself in the therapy room.
I laugh easily. It's one of the things that makes my life more enjoyable. I grew up in a family that used sarcasm, so if you dish it, I can run with it. And I love “yes, and”—if someone says something ridiculous, my instinct is often to join them in the ridiculousness and see where it goes.
Outside of therapy, I'm a Spurs fan, I read fantasy books, and I'm happy sitting in a coffee shop doing a crossword. I take long morning walks, listening to podcasts or guided meditations.
My Approach to Therapy
My work is primarily person-centered. That means I'm less interested in telling you what I think you should do and more interested in understanding how you got where you are, what matters to you, and what might be getting in the way of trusting your own judgment.
I also draw from Internal Family Systems (IFS). I like its assumption that even the parts of ourselves that frustrate us usually developed for a reason. Rather than immediately trying to get rid of something—an emotion, a behavior, a way of thinking—I tend to get curious about what it's doing there in the first place.
In my work with couples, I draw from Emotionally Focused Therapy (EFT) and attachment theory. I'm often paying attention to the cycle happening between two people: what each person is reaching for, what they're protecting themselves from, and how their ways of trying to feel safe or connected can accidentally push the other person further away.
Education & Credentials
Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC), Texas
M.A. in Clinical Mental Health Counseling, Texas State University