Some things in us resist being understood — and keep returning until they are. As a licensed Jungian analytical psychotherapist, I work with people willing to look into the abyss.
Some people come knowing what is wrong: a bereavement, a pattern in their relationships that repeats no matter who they choose, a fear that has quietly organised their life around not meeting it. Others come with something harder to locate — a life that is going well by every external measure and has begun, all the same, to feel as though it is being lived at a slight distance. In both cases I begin from the same assumption. What brings you is rarely the whole of what is there, and the symptom is usually the part of the problem that is willing to be seen first. More than once, a client has told me that a single sentence — one turn of phrase that changed the angle they were looking from — did more than weeks of careful work. I don't say this to promise insight on demand; it cannot be manufactured. But I have come to trust that the right words, found at the right moment, can move something that effort alone leaves stuck, and I listen for them. I work best with people who are genuinely searching, often those for whom the usual answers have stopped working. Some have left the religion they were raised in and found that the questions did not leave with it. Some keep a contemplative practice and want therapy that does not treat the inner life as merely clinical. Some are simply drawn to what myth, dream and symbol seem to know about us that we do not yet know about ourselves. I am a Jungian analytical psychotherapist and work entirely online, in English and Danish. I have worked in this way with people from various cultures and continents; sessions are available in either language.
My work is rooted in Jungian analytical psychology, which begins from a simple and unsettling premise: that much of what moves us sits below conscious awareness, and that lasting change comes less from managing a symptom than from understanding what it has been trying to say. Jung's name for the longer process was individuation — not self-improvement, but the slow work of coming to terms with everything in you that you did not choose and cannot simply discard. I hold that framework lightly. I do not bring one method to everyone, because people are not built the same way. With some, we work closely with dreams, or with the deliberate, waking imagining Jung called active imagination. With others the work is plainer: the patterns that keep recurring in love and friendship, the questions about direction and identity that refuse to settle. I pay close attention to what Jung called psychological type — the particular way a person takes the world in and arrives at judgements about it. With some clients we look at this directly and make it part of the work. With others I never name it, and simply let it shape the pace, the language I use, and what I press on and what I leave alone. The point is never to assign you a type, but to stop working against the grain of how you are actually made. Where someone is open to it, I bring literature into the room. Some of what people carry into therapy has been understood more honestly by poets and novelists than by psychology, and in those moments I would rather reach for the living language than the clinical one. Blake on innocence and its loss. Dostoevsky on guilt and conscience. The Book of Job, when a person is sitting with suffering that will not accept any account of itself. And when the work turns toward evil — what human beings are capable of, what was done to someone, what they are afraid is in them — I have found the literature of the camps to reach places clinical language cannot. For people who already meditate or come with a contemplative orientation, that practice has a place here too; I will not translate it into pathology. When trauma is what brings someone, I work with it directly, and carefully — the deeper exploration waits until there is enough steadiness to bear it.
Bachelor of Arts with Honours, 2:1, Theology and Religious Studies, from the University of Kent.
BA in Linguistics from the University of Copenhagen.
Licensed Analytical Psychotherapist credited by the College of Romanian Psychologists
Certified as Somatic Experiencing Practitioner (SEP) by Somatic Experiencing International