Like many people who find their way here, I overthink, worry, create and follow rigid rules, and sometimes get trapped in "black and white" thinking. For me, what often follows anxious thoughts are "compulsive" behaviors aimed at reducing the anxiety (spoiler alert: this is a trap). Funnily enough, these are things I didn't even recognize or label until I was already a counselor.

I entered the mental health field with a passion for addressing the broader issue of health disparities, particularly for stigmatized groups, by providing nonjudgmental, individualized care. I continue to hope that, in our space, shame and judgment surrounding certain behaviors, beliefs, diagnoses, backgrounds, or mistakes never interfere with the quality of care provided or your ability to feel truly understood.

In an effort to meet my lofty goal of solving all the world's problems, I dove headfirst (and heartfirst) into my work. I invested everything I had in my clients. I spent my "free time" overthinking our sessions, worrying about their well-being, and triple-checking the code of ethics, all the while slowly draining myself and losing what little work-life balance remained. I genuinely believed that was what I needed to do to make a meaningful impact.

Well… I burnt out. 

Turns out chronic sleep disturbance, persistent stress responses, and isolation really aren't good for your health. Of course, we all know this, but sometimes we ignore those things in an effort to avoid more stress and anxiety. Just push through, and then things will get better, right? Keep doing what you're doing because making a change would be even more stressful.

Looking back, it makes sense. The same things that made me a conscientious counselor also made me vulnerable to burnout. I wanted to be good, so I let myself get bad. 

During the most stressful periods, I counterintuitively started taking on more. I disinfected my clothes and shoes before putting them in the hamper. I wore gloves while making dinner and still washed my hands (many times). All I wanted was for things to feel easier, but these behaviors only made life harder.

Eventually, this was labeled as OCD, and I had a moment of wondering how I could have missed it in myself as a counselor. I had always fallen into black-and-white thinking, believing that either everything or nothing was "wrong" with me. At one point, I had even read through the diagnostic criteria for OCD in the DSM, mentally checked that it was a "no," and then never reflected on it again—probably because opening that can of worms would have caused even more stress.

It wasn't until my counselor asked me to write out all of my personal "rules" that I follow daily, like vacuuming before brushing my teeth, that I realized just how much of my life had become organized around anxiety. It was finally worth calling it what it was and addressing it so I could get my life back.

Embracing the Grey

The specific techniques used to manage OCD really helped me do that. 

At first, I thought “recovery” meant getting rid of anxiety altogether. Now I believe that to recover is to have freedom and choice. I am allowed to have anxiety, but stop organizing my life around it.

Now, by no means am I suddenly the expert on how to never fall victim to obsessions, perfectionism, or burnout. But I have learned that it's a practice to notice when you've wandered into the "black" or the "white" and gently find your way back to center—to the grey.

For me, the grey is calm, clear, resilient, playful, and fully alive. It's where uncertainty no longer gets to make every decision. It's where there's room for flexibility, mistakes, rest, joy, and growth.

Getting back there took work. Again, it’s a practice. Every time I slip, it’s easier to get back up because I’ve grown the muscles to do so. I now know what balance means for me. Do I always stay there? Of course not. Do I still sometimes catch myself trying to make uncertainty feel certain? Absolutely. Sometimes I even start getting anxious about the possibility of getting anxious again.

It's messy. This work is difficult. But it can be done.

I don't share this because I think my story is unique. In so many ways, it's not. We all develop patterns that once protected us but eventually begin to limit us. We all find ourselves stuck from time to time. Whether it’s from addiction, adhd, depression, anxiety, grief, etc. What I've learned is that meaningful change doesn't come from waiting until we're no longer anxious or uncertain. It comes from gently choosing to move forward anyway.

"Embrace the Grey" is more than a tagline to me. It's a reminder that life isn't meant to be lived entirely in certainty or fear, perfection or failure, black or white. It's an invitation to make room for uncertainty, flexibility, and self-compassion—to come back to center, again and again.

I intentionally built my practice around that philosophy. It allows me to show up as the best version of myself, meet people with authenticity and curiosity, and help others find their own version of the grey.

If you've read this far, thank you for letting me share one piece of my life. It certainly isn't the whole story, and likely isn't the most important one. But my hope is simply that this reminds you that you don't have to have everything figured out right now. You don't have to eliminate uncertainty before you start living. And you don't have to find your way back to the grey alone.