ABOUT ALLISON
I’VE BEEN INTERESTED IN WHAT HAPPENS BENEATH THE SURFACE FOR A VERY LONG TIME.
WHERE IT BEGAN
THE INSTINCT CAME BEFORE THE LANGUAGE.
When I was about ten, a classmate asked me to meet her at the park. Her parents were divorcing, and at the time divorce still carried a particular kind of stigma among children.
I remember knowing that she was hurting, even though I didn’t yet have the language for what she was experiencing or what I was sensing.
So I listened. I gave her a hug. And when I walked home afterwards, I remember feeling deeply moved that she had trusted me with something that mattered.
I wouldn’t have called it holding space then. I was ten.
But I recognize the instinct now, and it has followed me throughout my life.
THE ROUTE HERE WASN’T PARTICULARLY LINEAR.
In 2009, I started a mobile massage practice. Something unexpected began happening almost immediately.
People talked.
As clients settled onto the table, they began telling me what was happening in their marriages, families, careers, and inner lives. Physical tension often arrived with an emotional story attached, and I became increasingly interested in the relationship between what we experience and what the body carries.
What began as massage gradually became something more layered. Clients came not only for physical relief, but because they valued the conversations and perspective that emerged alongside it.
I wanted to understand more.
That curiosity eventually led me further into the study of human behaviour, trauma, emotions, embodiment, and the nervous system.
For three years, I also worked full-time in Employee Assistance and crisis support, listening to people through distress, conflict, uncertainty, and overwhelm. It was an extraordinary education in how differently human beings respond when life becomes difficult, and how much can change when someone feels genuinely heard rather than managed.
Over time, the direction became unmistakable.
MY PRACTICE TODAY
FOR PEOPLE WHO HAVE BECOME VERY GOOD AT FUNCTIONING.
I now work primarily with thoughtful, capable adults who have often become exceptionally good at functioning.
They can manage their careers, solve problems, anticipate what everybody else needs, and keep moving when things are difficult.
What they may have far less practice doing is hearing themselves.
Many learned, for very good reasons, to override feelings, accommodate other people, distrust their instincts, remain productive through exhaustion, or become the person who could handle everything.
Those patterns are intelligent adaptations.
Our work is about becoming curious about them rather than going to war with them.
I work primarily through Internal Family Systems, nervous-system-informed practice, Focusing, emotional and embodied awareness, and trauma-informed approaches.
But I don’t believe a person should have to learn my entire professional vocabulary in order to benefit from it.
The training matters because it gives me more ways to understand what may be happening.
The person in front of me matters more.
MORE THAN INSIGHT
Many of the people who find their way to me already understand themselves remarkably well.
They’ve read the books. They’ve been to therapy. Maybe they can identify the childhood pattern, explain the attachment dynamic and probably tell me exactly why they react the way they do.
And still, something doesn’t change.
And, that makes sense.
Insight is enormously valuable, but understanding a pattern intellectually is not always the same thing as changing your relationship with it.
Sometimes the next layer of work happens somewhere quieter.
In the sensation that appears before the explanation, or the part of you that knows something is wrong while another part insists everything is fine.
Perhaps in the anger underneath accommodation and in the exhaustion underneath competence.
And maybe, in the moment you begin to notice that what you have spent years calling too sensitive, too much, lazy, difficult or needy may be carrying information you were never taught how to hear.
THIS IS THE TERRITORY THAT INTERESTS ME MOST.
Not becoming an improved version of yourself but becoming more fully yourself.
IN THE ROOM
THE WORK IS SERIOUS. WE DON’T HAVE TO BE SERIOUS EVERY MINUTE.
There is room in my practice for grief, anger, shame, fear, and the things that have never been easy to say aloud.
There is also room for irreverence, laughter, and the absurdity of being human.
I am warm, direct, and deeply engaged in the work. I will listen carefully, notice patterns, ask questions, offer perspective, and sometimes challenge an assumption that deserves challenging.
I’m not interested in positioning myself as the person who knows your life better than you do.
One of the central aims of this work is quite the opposite.
I want you to become increasingly able to recognize your own signals, understand your internal world, and trust the information coming from within it.
THE RELATIONSHIP YOU ARE BUILDING IS ULTIMATELY THE ONE YOU HAVE WITH YOURSELF.
A PRACTICE SHAPED BY CURIOSITY
I have been studying people, healing, and human experience in one form or another for much of my adult life, and I expect I always will.
My formal training includes Level 2 training through the IFS Institute, the Felt Sense Polyvagal Model, Focusing, complex trauma, EMDR-informed study, DBT, ACT, embodiment, and other approaches that help me understand a person from more than one angle. I have also received the Focusing Partnership Award, and my earlier professional training includes certification as an Empowerment Coach through the American Association of Drugless Practitioners.
Before my practice evolved into the work I do today, I spent years working with the body through massage and trained to Reiki Master Teacher, Level 3. Those earlier experiences deepened my understanding of the ways people experience themselves beyond cognition alone, and of how emotion, history, sensation, and the nervous system can intersect.
My professional experience has also included three years working full-time within an Employee Assistance and crisis-support service, listening to people through distress, uncertainty, conflict, and overwhelm. That work reinforced something I had already begun to understand: how differently human beings respond when life becomes difficult, and how much can change when someone feels genuinely heard rather than managed.
I continue to study because I don’t believe complex human beings are best served by one rigid framework.
The training matters. It gives me more ways to understand what may be happening.
I’ve spent much of my life following that question, and it remains at the centre of my work today.
THE QUESTION I KEEP FOLLOWING
What becomes possible when someone feels safe enough to tell the truth about what is happening inside them?