Testimonial
Meticulousness has ruled my life since I was seven. Every night before school, I carefully selected my outfit, ensuring I wouldn’t face the dreaded morning decision of what to wear. My backpack held fluorescent pink sticky notes, and my ballpoint pen worked overtime creating lists: 1. Wash hands three times, 2. Tell mom you love her, 3. Don’t step on cracks. These lists consumed my daily routine, and by week’s end, my trashcan overflowed with crumpled reminders of tasks completed. I craved control—whether it was always sitting in the same seat in class or consistently opening the right door to my home instead of the left. I loved routines, even numbers, certainty, and sameness—until it became too much.
When my mom took me to a psychiatrist, the diagnosis was clear: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). Therapy in high school involved exposure exercises, like leaving a shirt on the floor overnight or stepping on cracks as I walked. These small acts were agonizing, and while they didn’t erase my need for control, they taught me how to live alongside it. My creative spirit, buried beneath checkboxes and rigid rules, began to break free.
In college, I started to change. Through medication and healing, I reshaped the rumination that once paralyzed me into a powerful force of expression. In doing so, I unlocked the artistic energy I knew was within me. I embraced the unknown, pouring myself into writing, publishing over 20 magazine articles, and joining clubs, finally allowing myself to escape the confines of my mind. When I let go, life’s quietest and most beautiful truths clung on.
Each step toward imperfection allowed my capacity for original thought and expression to grow. Stand-up comedy became my most daring leap into uncharted territory, a place where I could embrace spontaneity and the vulnerability I once avoided. I even founded a comedy club, The Playground, transforming a dingy basement into a vibrant hub of community and artistry. I sourced seventy mismatched chairs from Goodwill, hung string lights, and soon Wednesday nights at Syracuse University saw lines of students waiting in snowstorms to experience what I had built. Regular students became comedians, empowered to take the same risks I had. That basement, filled with laughter and camaraderie, became the stage where I discovered that imagination thrives in imperfection.
After graduation, I joined an advertising agency in Austin, managing social content for the U.S. Air Force. At the agency, I sharpened my skills, creating engaging campaigns and social-first strategies to modernize our approach to the account. While I took pride in my work, the constraints of government oversight weighed on my ability to innovate. I kept hearing about “the creatives”—the part of the agency filled with people who brainstormed, designed, and made things move. I realized I belonged among them.
Working with Krissy has been one of the most transformative parts of my journey. Through her care, I’ve been able to untangle the deeper roots of my perfectionism and OCD, and to hold space for my thoughts without judgment. Her guidance gave me the courage to embrace discomfort, allowing my ideas to live unfiltered and unafraid. Our work together helped me stop measuring myself by productivity or neatness—and instead, by boldness, play, and trust in my voice.
My experience with OCD taught me that control suffocates originality, and as I relinquish it, my thoughts flow freely. Perfectionism once restrained me, but embracing autonomy has allowed me to grow. I’ve realized that the best ideas often emerge from chaos, and I’m proud to say I now welcome it.
Elizabeth Gilbert once said, “Creative living is a life driven more strongly by curiosity than by fear.” For years, I lived in hesitance, but embracing a sense of wonder has ignited a profound shift in my life. Working with Krissy has been central to sustaining this momentum—and I hope others feel empowered to do the same kind of work, trusting that freedom is on the other side.