Trauma therapy, EMDR, Brainspotting, and ketamine-assisted psychotherapy for men and LGBTQ+ adults navigating what's underneath.
Schedule a Free Consultation
I'm Matt—a gay therapist practicing in Seattle who's done my own depth work around identity, shame, and belonging. I know what it's like to carry things alone, to feel fundamentally misunderstood, and to wonder if there's another way to live. That lived experience shapes how I work: with attunement, honesty, and zero patience for therapeutic distance or performative neutrality.
I'm also faculty at Seattle University, where I teach counseling theory, crisis intervention, and research writing.
You're in Seattle—or somewhere in Washington State—and on the outside, you might look fine. Or you might be just starting to realize you've been holding more than you knew.
Either way, your body knows something's wrong.
There's a tightness that won't release—in your chest, your jaw, your shoulders. Your mind won't quiet. You scan for threat even in safe spaces. Sleep doesn't restore you. Relationships require constant monitoring or feel impossible to access at all.
You've gotten good at managing. You function. You meet expectations.
But inside? You're exhausted from the constant bracing. The emotional floods or flatness. The sense that you're always one wrong move from falling apart or being found out.
This is what unprocessed trauma looks like when you're high-functioning.
Not crisis. Not collapse. Just this quiet, relentless weight that shapes how everything feels.
You've tried to think your way out. You might have even tried therapy that helped you understand what happened but didn't change how your body responds.
What you haven't tried is trauma therapy that works with how it actually lives—in your nervous system, your relationships, your sense of self.
And when it starts to shift, you'll feel it: the first full breath you didn't know you were holding. The afternoon you realize you've been relaxed for hours. The conversation where you stay present instead of going blank.
This isn't symptom management. It's integration.
We work with how trauma actually lives—in your body, your reactions, your relationships—not just what you understand about it.
EMDR — The memory stays, but the flood stops. You can think about what happened without your chest tightening.
Brainspotting — For the things you can't put into words. The shutdown. The numbness. The frozen places that talk therapy keeps circling but never reaches.
Flash Technique — Trauma processing without white-knuckling through it.
Relational depth — I track what's happening between us in real time. The moment you go distant. The flash of shame. The impulse to perform okayness. That's where the work lives.
KAP — When defenses are too rigid to soften on their own. Ketamine-assisted therapy through medical collaboration, for clients who've hit a wall.
We don't just talk about what happened. We help your nervous system finally let go.
My work is depth-oriented, relational, and grounded in existential-phenomenological therapy. We build coherence—the feeling that your life makes sense from the inside.
For people carrying the emotional, relational, and bodily weight of the past.
For when you understand what happened — but your body hasn't gotten the message. EMDRIA Certified.
A safe, affirming space for LGBTQ+ adults navigating shame, identity, or belonging.
For men who are overwhelmed, shut down, or tired of figuring it out alone.
When appropriate, KAP can help soften defenses and access emotions that feel walled off.
Trauma-informed integration after psilocybin, MDMA, or ketamine experiences.
Half-day and full-day sessions for deeper work when weekly therapy isn't enough.
Some people come to therapy after decades of managing alone.
Others come at 24, when they first realize: This isn't normal. This isn't just how life is supposed to feel.
Both are exactly the right time.
You don't need years of suffering to justify getting help. You don't need to wait until you "can't function." You don't need to prove your pain is "bad enough."
If your past is affecting your present—your relationships, your body, your sense of self—that's enough.
Early intervention isn't weakness. It's refusing to spend your whole life repeating patterns you didn't choose.
"And so it was I entered the broken world"
— Hart Crane, "The Broken Tower"
Healing happens in moments.
The first time you take a full breath without realizing you'd been holding it. The conversation where you stay present instead of going blank. The afternoon you notice you've been relaxed for hours—not bracing, not scanning, just here.
Your partner mentions it before you do. You're different. Calmer. More reachable.
The thing that used to send you spiraling still happens—but now there's a pause where the automatic reaction used to be. You have a choice you didn't have before.
