Supporting clients in their journey into recovery has been my passion for over 30 years. As a person who has experienced addiction and mental health on a personal level, I try to understand where the client is, and meet them at that point, and get them to where they want to be. Clients starting points are very different, and the importance of relating to a client, listening to their story and working collaboratively with them, to help them change is of paramount importance. There is no one size fits all approach to treatment, I understand the importance of having a trusting and transparent relationship with a client, which enables me to challenge them from an effective, non-judgemental and caring place, through individual and group therapy, and the wider therapeutic milieu whereby clients can learn about one another, and support each other’s journey in a healthy manner.

“You alone can do it, but you can’t do it alone” Roland F. Williams

As a therapist, I believe in the process of change and see myself as a conduit for facilitating this. In my clinical practice, my first objective is always the development of a trusting therapeutic relationship with my clients. In doing so, I seek to collaboratively support them in navigating the range of options available to them whilst also communicating my empathic understanding and belief in their intrinsic ability to make the right choices. As an active listener, I look beyond the words that are uttered and try to explore the meaning behind them. While ensuring that my optimism permeates throughout our interactions, I also encourage the clients to seek feedback and view their changes in the context of the wider family system and the microcosm of the treatment community.”

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves”– Victor E. Frankl

“My belief is that clients are the ones who can figure out apt solutions and goals for their issues. As a therapist, my role is to provide unconditional positive regard and empathy which fosters growth and change. In turn, I ask my clients to be open-minded, willing for change and trust the process of therapy. The most important thing for me is my client’s trust and I have confidence in dedicating time to build a strong therapeutic alliance as it can be a tool for change in itself. I believe that holistic care is paramount and that means involving the family in the treatment process as well.

As a collaborative therapist, my aim is to provide clients with skills and tools that can be applied while going forward in their life and be independent while dealing with the hassles that life throws at one.”

My beliefs and approach to my clients is holistic wherein I incorporate different therapeutic interventions like Embodiment which include Drama, Drum circle, Visual arts, Pottery, Knitting, Sculpting where they can express themselves in a space which is comforting to them. I am empathetic but it is also imperative that my client allows me to challenge their disorders and maladaptive behaviours. This process helps one to re-experience emotions in a way that allows them to organize their feelings and from a narrative around an overwhelming experience.

My role as an Art Therapist is to promote catharsis through different interventions and help them understand themselves better. My belief is that sometimes words are not enough and expressing yourself through Art that can lead to therapeutic change.

“I am a therapist who believes in a holistic approach. For me, therapy is anything that helps the client in bringing about healthy changes with minimal or temporary disadvantages. For me, trust is of prime importance and I believe in hands-on experience. I perceive in having a thorough understanding and experiencing the basics of treatment before applying them in my therapeutic relationship with the client. I believe in implementing changes in myself and sharing those experiences with clients.

I perceive that the family’s mental as well as physical health and participation in therapy is as important as the client’s participation and health. In turn, I wish my clients to be trusting and accept themselves, therapy process and the helping hands”

I see therapy as a space where we get to pause, really pause and listen to what’s been buried under the noise for too long. Sometimes it’s pain, sometimes it’s confusion, sometimes it’s just a deep tiredness from holding it all together. I work with people who are trying to make sense of their patterns and understand why they keep going back to what hurts, why they can’t seem to feel okay, or why connection feels so far away.

I don’t believe in quick fixes or sugarcoating. I believe in honest conversations, in sitting with the hard stuff, and in slowly rebuilding safety, inside and out. If you’re ready to do the work, I’m here to walk alongside you.

I’ve always been drawn to the quiet, in-between spaces, the pauses between words, the weight behind silence, the feelings that don’t always show up. That’s where I believe healing begins. In my work, I try to offer a space where it’s okay to not have it all figured out. A space where emotions, no matter how tangled or intense, are welcome. I don’t believe in pushing change. I believe in walking with you while it unfolds.

Whether you’re going through anxiety, trauma, addiction, or the quieter ache of just feeling lost, I’m here to help you listen to yourself differently. Therapy with me isn’t about fixing what’s “wrong”but more about meeting what’s been unheard, and slowly learning how to live with more clarity, steadiness, and self-trust.

For me, healing has always been about coming home to the body, to the breath, to something still and steady within. I’ve seen how we carry our stories on our shoulders, in the way we breathe, in how tightly we hold ourselves. Through yoga, breathwork, and energy healing, I try to help people soften, not just physically, but emotionally and energetically.

My work isn’t about perfect poses or silencing the mind. I focus on creating space for release, for rest, for reconnection. I hold space for people who’ve forgotten how to feel safe in their bodies, or who are simply longing to feel whole again. At Samarpan, I get to be part of that quiet but powerful process, where stillness becomes strength, and presence becomes healing.

I’ve been a nurse for over 17 years, and through all those years, what’s stayed constant is this: people heal best when they feel safe, heard, and held with dignity. Working in addiction care for the past few years has deepened that belief. Recovery isn’t just medical, it’s emotional, human, and deeply personal.

My role isn’t only to manage symptoms or monitor health. It’s to be a steady presence. To sit with you when things feel overwhelming. To notice the small wins, even when you can’t. To work closely with the team so your care is connected, compassionate, and consistent. This work asks for heart and I show up with mine, every single day.

I’ve learned that recovery is made up of small moments, how someone checks in with you, how they respond when you’re struggling, how they show up, again and again. That’s what I try to do every day: be present, listen deeply, and offer care that feels steady and human.

My work as a nurse goes beyond monitoring symptoms or giving medication. It’s about being there when someone feels overwhelmed, helping them breathe through a difficult moment, and making sure they don’t feel alone in the process. Healing takes time, and I’m here to walk that journey with you, one steady step at a time.

For me, nursing is as much about presence as it is about treatment. I believe healing happens when someone feels safe, not just physically, but emotionally too. That’s what I try to offer: steady support, calm assurance, and the kind of care that sees the whole person, not just their illness.

Whether someone is going through withdrawal, struggling with pain, or simply having a hard day, I aim to be there with compassion and clarity. I listen closely, respond gently, and make sure no one feels invisible in their healing. Because when someone feels truly seen, they begin to believe in their recovery again.

In the early stages of recovery, even simple things, getting out of bed, eating a meal, making it through the day, can feel like a battle. I see it every day, and I don’t take it lightly. My role is to walk alongside people in those quiet, difficult moments. Not to rush them. Not to offer quick fixes. But to be a steady presence when things feel uncertain.

Sometimes that means checking vitals, managing symptoms, or explaining medication. Other times, it’s just sitting with someone in silence while they hold back tears. I believe healing begins when someone feels safe enough to fall apart and knows there’s someone right there who won’t look away. That’s what I try to offer, day after day.

There’s a quiet strength in routine, in waking up at the same time, knowing what your day holds, and slowly rebuilding your sense of control. That’s the space I try to hold. For me, care isn’t just about structure or schedules. It’s about offering steadiness when everything else feels unpredictable. I sit with people when they’re anxious, overwhelmed, or unsure, and together we find small ways to keep going.

Whether it’s through a conversation, a shared silence, or a simple daily check-in, I believe healing happens when you feel safe enough to be seen, not just as a client, but as a person. That’s what I try to offer: presence, patience, and a rhythm you can return to, even on the hard days.

Movement has always been my way of finding balance, not just physically, but emotionally too. I’ve seen how even the smallest steps, a stretch, a walk, a breath, can bring someone back into their body after feeling disconnected for so long.

In every session, I try to create a space where you don’t have to be perfect, just present. Whether you're rebuilding strength, shaking off stress, or learning to move without fear, I’m here to support that journey. It’s not just about fitness goals, it’s about reminding yourself what your body can do, how it can carry you forward, and how much healing lives in motion.

For me, care doesn’t only happen in therapy rooms, it’s also in the little things that go unnoticed: the warmth of a clean space, a hot meal that arrives on time, a room that feels calm and ready when someone walks in. That quiet, steady rhythm behind the scenes is what I try to hold together every day.

Over the years, I’ve learned that healing begins when people feel safe and safety comes from consistency. My job is to make sure everything around our clients supports that process. From the first light switch turned on in the morning to the last transport call at night, I work to create an environment where recovery feels possible because everything else is taken care of.

I’ve always believed that care isn’t just about people, it’s about the systems that hold them up. My role might be behind the scenes, but I see it as a quiet promise: that the small things will be taken care of, so the big things, like healing,can happen without interruption.

Whether it’s a clean hallway, a stocked shelf, or a schedule that runs on time, I try to bring a sense of calm and order to everything I do. I may not be in the spotlight, but I know that my work helps create the kind of environment where people can feel safe, supported, and seen — even if they don’t know my name.

When someone reaches out for help, I know it’s often after days or years of struggle, confusion, or fear. My role begins at that fragile point, where courage meets vulnerability. I see it as my responsibility to meet that moment with presence, patience, and deep care.

Every story I hear is different, but my intention is always the same: to make people feel safe, seen, and understood. I listen without judgment, offer clarity where there’s overwhelm, and walk alongside clients and their families as they take that first step into recovery. It’s not just about starting treatment. It’s about making sure no one has to start alone.

I've always believed that psychiatry isn’t just about treatment, it’s about trust. The people I meet are often holding pain they’ve never spoken aloud, or facing battles they’ve fought alone for far too long. My role is to meet them where they are, with calm, clarity, and care.

Working across hospitals, rehab centres, and community clinics has taught me that healing doesn’t follow a straight line. Whether it’s someone in the thick of withdrawal or struggling with both addiction and mental illness, I try to be the kind of doctor who listens deeply, plans thoughtfully, and never loses sight of the person behind the diagnosis.

At the heart of it, I’m here to make sure people feel held, not judged and to walk with them as they begin again.

Some people think of doctors as the ones who step in during emergencies. I think of myself as someone who quietly walks beside people through the difficult in-betweens, the early mornings, the restless nights, the body aches that speak what words can’t.

In recovery, the physical journey often gets overlooked in the shadow of emotional pain. But I’ve seen how even small medical support, a kind word during vitals, timely attention during detox, can bring relief, grounding, and trust. My role is to offer exactly that: steady, compassionate care that helps people feel safe in their healing.

Not everything needs to be fixed right away. Sometimes, it just needs to be noticed. That’s where I begin.