When I first opened the doors of Joy Life Counseling in December 2019, I had no idea that only a few months later, the world would change. Like many, I entered that new year with hope, expectation and vision. I had taken a huge leap of faith. I was a new business owner. I was building something that, for me, felt sacred—a space where healing could happen for people who looked like me. A space I didn’t often see growing up.

Then came the pandemic.

In March 2020, my office, like so many others, had to shut down. I had just bought furniture for my practice—play therapy supplies, books and beautiful décor for the office. I had no choice but to shift to telehealth. I had never done telehealth before; all of my clients were in person before the pandemic. Overnight, the in-person care I had trained for and poured myself into had to become virtual. And even though I didn’t feel ready, I adapted. Because I knew that my clients still needed someone to hold space for them, and I knew that I still needed to show up.

Opening a private practice was never something I thought I’d do so soon after graduate school. I didn’t come from wealth or a long line of entrepreneurs. I was the first in my family to go to college. And when my father passed away, I used the money from the sale of his home to start my business. That was all I had. It wasn’t a big inheritance, but it was sacred. It was filled with love, loss and legacy. And that’s what built Joy Life Counseling.

When the pandemic forced me to shift my entire business model, I had to draw on every ounce of resilience I had. But the timing, though hard, ended up being part of the story. Mental health support became even more necessary in the wake of collective grief, racial injustice, isolation and anxiety. And I’m thankful I was in a position to meet that need of my community. What started with just me has now grown into a group practice of four therapists—each of us committed to healing our communities. Each of us carrying our own story of triumph.

I often return to the words of Tricia Hersey in Rest Is Resistance. She reminds us that rest is not a luxury. It is a right. It’s a way of reclaiming ourselves from systems that were never built to protect us. As a Black woman in leadership, I carry that truth into how I work, how I supervise and how I care for my team. Healing work cannot happen when we are running on empty.

Tricia speaks about building liberatory spaces grounded in justice, love and care. That is what I strive for at Joy Life Counseling. A space where Black and Brown clients don’t have to over-explain their pain. Where we center our stories. Where we believe that trauma doesn’t get the final say.

Starting a business during such uncertain times taught me that resilience is not about perfection. It’s about showing up. It’s about trusting that what we’re building matters, even when the world is uncertain. I didn’t have a blueprint, but I had purpose. I didn’t have a big team, but I had heart. And slowly, that has been enough.

To anyone walking through adversity—whether personal, professional or both—I want you to know that your story still has power. That even in the midst of trauma, something beautiful can emerge. Something healing. Something transformative.

This practice, this work and this journey have been shaped by so many moments of uncertainty, grief and growth. And I’m still here. We’re still here. And we’re not just surviving—we’re building something rooted in love, legacy and liberation.