Your bedroom is basically a horrifying sweater a great aunt knit in a garish color with a wonky fit.
You look around your bedroom and think “I know I’m better than this.”
But then another thought immediately answers back - “...are you sure?”
Whenever you’re here, you feel itchy. Uncomfortable. Like you can’t take a full breath. And it washes any zest of life out of you.
Let’s take a tour, shall we?
There’s a laundry basket on the floor with untouched squares of clothes waiting in purgatory to be put away. Just behind the closet door, a mountain of rumpled clothes that are too dirty to put in a drawer but too clean to be washed yet. Todays’ outfit was resurrected from said pile.
Three pairs of shoes—none of them quite perfect for summer—sit in a quiet triangle near the door. A watercolor you made two years ago is under the bed, face-down beside a half-full journal and a bag of yarn you forgot you bought.
Like a terrible sweater, your room isn’t soiled or filthy. It’s just…blehhh. And makes you want to peel the skin off of your vibrating body.
I know what you’re thinking…
“If I could just get my sh*t together, I’d feel better.”
You manage people at work for Christ’s sake, why can’t you manage inanimate objects? A “real adult” would have this figured out by now.
You might be lazy - but you’re definitely tired. Threads of shame and panicky sensations spiral into a hank of exhaustion.
Never knowing if you’re going to wake up as a highly motivated, coordinated skirt suit Emily Gilmore or a spacey yet lovable culinary genius in bandana braids Suki.
Your brain has the color coded ambition of Rory’s study schedule, the wit and sarcasm of Lorelai, and yet becomes a pitiful Kirk when faced with a laundry pile and the existential weight of choosing where to start.
Oy with the self help books already!
When you turn out the light at night (way later than you swore you would), the cleaning to do list begins rolling.
Sometimes you even turn the light back on to write the list down, that way you won’t forget.
Laundry up
art on wall
empty baskets stacked
text Laura back
Another Post-It, another promise.
When you wake up in the morning to the same tangle, it seems like the clutter is shouting at you.\
“Why can’t you do this SIMPLE thing? Aren’t you supposed to be good at stuff?”
You’ve tried…
Habit Tracker App
the pastel badges and dopamine-boosting pings. It worked for two days—until one late night threw off the streak and suddenly it all felt ruined. You deleted the app the next morning, not out of rebellion, but out of quiet defeat. And yet still managed to forget to unsubscribe until you wondered where that $17.99 went.
“Just Relax”
your partner think it’s time to sit on the couch and relax, your brain goes into overdrive. A familiar tension spreads from your neck down your shoulder blades, and a slight nausea fills your abdomen. I’ve definitely forgotten something I need to do. You scroll back through the cleaning schedule you made and discover that even though your bones are tired your muscles need to do a cleaning sprint. Like, now.
Cleaning Therapy
So running on huffy fumes, you’re scrubbing the counter while your partner asks you, “what’s wrong?” And you don’t want to explode. But God, what other choice is there after someone finally asks out loud the question that has haunted you since the moment you woke up.
What is wrong with me?
This isn’t just about your laundry. Or the dishes. Or a to do list. It’s the anxiety that kicks up the moment someone texts they’re on their way over. It’s the guilt that keeps you from inviting friends at all. It’s the way your partner tiptoes around your moods, or how you explode over toothpaste on the counter when really, you’re drowning in shame.
You keep telling yourself you’ll fix it when you have more time, more energy, more discipline. But the more you wait, the heavier it gets.
And the more it confirms your deepest fear: maybe I can’t handle it. Maybe I’m not better than this after all.
I’m going to tell you what I tell all of my clients - it makes sense.
I’m not saying “this is fine” or “don’t worry about it.”
But you definitely aren’t crazy. Or broken.
The truth is, you’ve never been broken. You’ve just been building your life around rules that were never made for your brain, body, or heart.
That deep discomfort you feel in your own space? That’s not laziness or failure. That’s your nervous system waving a white flag.
You don’t need another productivity hack. You don’t need an anti-anxiety morning routine. You need a place to untangle what’s actually going on—and someone who gets why it feels so hard.
Let’s start there.
Therapy with Emilea Is…
Naming the shame and actually feel it move through your body—not just intellectualize it.
Understanding the link between your anxious perfectionism and ADHD tendencies, instead of fighting it with an organizing routine and self love book.
A nervous system-attuned approach to healing—so your routines support you, not punish you.
A space where your high-capacity brilliance and your lowest days are both welcome.
A long game of self-trust, creative recovery, and learning how to live like you’re not a problem to solve.
Therapy with Emilea Isn’t…
A place to vent and never change—or cry once and expect it all to get easier.
A quick fix for people looking for "discipline" without understanding their inner world. This is not “75 Hard Therapy Edition.”
A top-down, head-only strategy that ignores your lived, felt experience.
A vibe for people who just want gold stars and hustle culture in softer colors, or want to tick “therapy” off their to do list
A low-commitment dabble for when you “finally have time”—this work asks for your presence.
Your Healing Looks Like Knitting a Sweater that Actually Fits
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You land on this page, heart racing a little. This feels spooky. The room around you hasn’t changed—but something clicks. You recognize yourself here. You start imagining what it might feel like to live without the constant internal scolding. This is the moment you stop searching for the perfect plan and start wondering if softness could be a strategy.
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You book the consult call. To be honest, you almost cancel because you had a little breakdown but you’re fine now. But you don’t, because let’s face it you rarely cancel plans even if you wanted to. We book an intake, and in that first session, we lay out the tangled mess together and start making sense of the threads—what’s yours, what’s inherited, what no longer serves. It’s not neat, but it’s a beginning.
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Session by session, we expand your emotional range. Instead of 0 to 100, you start to find some range at 30 and 60. You learn to hold your ADHD perfectionism with compassion instead of control. We build structure—not to contain you, but to support you. Not a golden cage, a warm woven nest. You begin to move through hard days with less panic and more permission.
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You find yourself noticing the sinching tension in your belly before the irritation eruption. Breathing instead of bellowing. Setting boundaries that create space and compassion, instead of isolation and exhaustion. Your home feels more of a sanctuary-in-progress than shame-trigger. We make meaning of your patterns and reknit the story.
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It might feel strange, but there’s no big “before and after” photo - afterall, this isn’t machine knitting. It's the steady rhythm of building integration one row at a time. You begin trusting your own pace. You build rhythms that hold you, even when life unravels a little. You don’t need to start over every time you miss a day.
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You’re not just surviving the week—you enjoy it. You ask for help without shame. You’ve started making art again. Laundry is done more often than not. You feel, for the first time in a long time, like yourself—and it doesn’t just fit. It looks damn good on you.
Before Therapy with Emilea
You wake up with a rock in your chest and a to-do list news ticker already scrolling. You feel behind before you’ve even peed.
You replay the same four questions on loop after a work meeting. Did I say too much? Did I disappoint my client? Is my boss mad at me? Should it feel this hard? You're exhausted by your own constant critique and growth plan.
You show up to the party with a bottle of their favorite wine you bookmarked five months ago, and a party bag of resentment because you know they wouldn’t do the same.
You describe yourself as “a planner girl” & “stationary addict.” You collect systems like safety blankets but abandon them when they stop feeling perfect.
You feel both too sensitive and too much. Any emotion threatens to derail your day, so you keep everything sealed tight.
You’re constantly trying to earn your own rest. Nothing ever feels finished enough to justify putting your feet up.
After Therapy with Emilea
You wake up and pause. You take one breath, put your feet on the ground, and start your day with intention instead of panic.
You notice self-critical thoughts—but you know they’re just thoughts. Not truth. There’s space now to respond with kindness, honesty, and a willingness to learn.
You can show up empty handed without questioning your worth. You open your door more often, and take off the mask without fear. You let yourself be seen.
You use tools that work with your brain, not against it. Your routines flex and hold, like good knitting—strong, and forgiving.
Your rest is truly recuperating, and your energy can fly without crashing. Not to mention you can cry without smiling and laugh without apologizing.
You rest on purpose. Not because everything’s done—but because you are worthy of rest, even in progress.
Meet Emilea
I’m Emilea - a therapist, a seriously playful heart, and a sharply intuitive spirit. I love a metaphor and a good rom com. And I’m fluent in Evangelical faux-authenticity (the life group I’m plugged into just wants to do life together, you know?) and fall in love with every fiber art I meet.
I grew up in rigid religion, combining my love of feeling alive with my deep need for external approval and rubrics. My ability to push through and get A’s even when I was hurting became a badge of honor. I was a go-to girl, mom friend, team player of the year. And then I became a Mom. One day I went to Target with my 8 month old and left the front door open. Not unlocked - wide fricking open. When I came home and determined we had not been robbed, I then determined that something had to be wrong. This wasn’t like me. And I couldn’t ever “get it back together” like I always could pre-motherhood. Obviously this is the moment I became diagnosed with ADHD as a new mother at the age of 30.
It has taken me three therapists, countless workbooks, and all the Brene talks on the internet to make peace with my excitable and curious neurospice and my obsessive love of schedules and rules. I don’t want you to spend eight years figuring it out.
Maybe you’ve seen Worksheet Therapist. You were thrilled to have homework, and some tools were helpful. But you got tired of repeating yourself. And the worksheets.
Maybe you’ve seen Hooey Dooey Therapist. You’re able to be truly emotional in front of someone. But after a few weeks, the phrase ‘feel your feelings’ gives you the hives. It feels less like healing and more like an expensive pity party.
With everything you’re juggling, you need a therapist who sees the whole you. That might sound too vague, so let me break it down real quick. I know, that you know, that you can be a bubbly creative firecracker shot out of a cannon with the energy of the most positive tornado. I know that you know that you can also sit on teh couch for hours berating yourself for not being productive, and yet also not moving from the couch at all. There are two parts of you - your nature and your nurture. Nature says “ be free and go with whatever interests you!!” and nurture says “I don’t care what you’re interested in, this is the way you should be/act/feel.” So therapy doesn’t need to treat your anxiety (let’s debunk that myth! Try a breathing exercise) and it also doesn’t need to treat your ADHD tendencies (have you tried writing it down? Let’s make a schedule!). You need someone who has a bachelors in international relations to create not just a truce but a functioning relationship. So you can be all of who you are, and all of who you want to be.
Ready for Therapy with Emilea
Ready for Therapy with Emilea
If…
You’re done trying to fix yourself and are ready to understand yourself instead. You want more than coping—you want connection.
You’re craving structure, but not the rigid kind. You’re ready to explore routines that feel like scaffolding, not cages.
You’re willing to feel uncomfortable emotions if it means actually getting unstuck.
You know your perfectionism keeps you safe, but you’re starting to see how it also keeps you small.
You don’t need a magic wand. You need a guide who can sit with your mess, help you name what’s happening, and build something meaningful from it.
FAQs
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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
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It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.
What happens if you say yes?
You start exactly where you are.
You stop hiding from yourself.
You learn to work with your brain and your body, not against them.
You begin to heal—not just function.
