Sammantha Huff

You’ve gotten so good at holding it together that most people have no idea how exhausted you actually are. You check your phone before your feet hit the floor. You avoid small talk at work like it’s a full contact sport, but somehow still find the energy for the coworker who makes you laugh. You look forward to lunch and dread the second half of it, because that’s when your brain starts running through everything you haven’t done yet. By the time you’re home, you’re making dinner, watching something to decompress, and telling your partner you have a headache instead of telling them what’s actually going on. You used to sleep through the night. You used to like who you saw in the mirror. Somewhere along the way, that stopped, and you’re tired of explaining to people who don’t get it why that matters.

Here’s what I’ve learned working with women through exactly this: what you call anxious usually isn’t “not enough” thinking, it’s a lack of room to be flexible when everything feels like it’s on fire. What you call burnt out is usually you being terrified to put the load down because you don’t know who you are without carrying it. Sessions with me have room for real talk and real silence. I’ll ask you things like what a moment actually meant to you, not just what happened in it.

I lean back until something real comes up, and then I lean in. I’ve spent years working with young women, in mentorship roles since I was 16 and in the therapy room since I became a Registered Psychotherapist, and if there’s one thing over a decade of this work has taught me, it’s that almost everyone who sits across from me is carrying an old belief that was never actually true. My job is helping you see that, and then helping you build something different in its place.

I’m currently accepting new clients and I work virtually, so wherever you are, we can do this together. One thing you should know about me: I will react like a human being. If something wild happened to you, I’m probably going to say so, out loud, before we get into what it meant. My clients tell me it feels less like therapy and more like talking to someone who actually gets it. One of my favorites, from someone I worked with: “You are someone I trust, and I don’t trust easy.”

Outside the therapy room, I’m usually somewhere with my family, in the garden, on the porch, or in the kitchen, which is genuinely my happy place. My husband and I share our home with our 10-year-old cat named Hunter-Lewis, who has fully appointed himself co-therapist of the household. A good Sunday for me involves church, a really good sandwich, a nap, and ending the night around a fire with people I love.

If you’re ready to make sense of where you’ve been and find real, lasting change, not just relief that fades in a week, book a free 15-minute consultation to get started.