The Loneliness of Invisible Illness

The story our culture tells about illness is often incomplete. But there is strength in writing a new one—on your own terms.

Living with an autoimmune illness, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, or migraines can feel like moving through a world that’s moving far too fast for your body to keep up with right now. You may be in remission from cancer, yet still carrying the fear that it could return. Or recovering from a neurological or gastrointestinal disorder, while silently adjusting to your “new normal”—one with slower processing, less stamina, or unexpected symptoms that come and go without warning.

The experience isn’t always about physical symptoms. Often, it’s about the loss of energy, the frustration of slowed functioning, and the isolation that comes from not being able to keep pace with life as it was before.

And still, life continues to demand performance. And, society expects optimism. Productivity. A can-do attitude. You're told to “stay strong,” “keep fighting,” or “look on the bright side.” But when your lived experience doesn’t match the cultural script of triumph and recovery, it can feel like you're failing at something no one else can see. And that quiet dissonance—between what’s visible and what’s real—can be profoundly lonely.

You deserve a space that meets you where you are—not where others expect you to be.

I know this landscape—not just as a therapist, but as someone who’s lived through the fog of misunderstood and life-altering illnesses. In our work, we won’t pretend your body is the same, or ask you to be anyone but who you are right now. Therapy becomes a place to exhale, to rest from the performance, and to gently explore what healing might look like when the goal isn’t “back to normal”—but forward into something more sustainable, honest, and whole.

Together, we’ll build tools that support functioning in a demanding world—without abandoning your truth. Through mindfulness, somatic awareness, and trauma-informed care, we’ll explore new ways of relating to your body, your limits, and your worth. You don’t have to be “better” to be worthy of care.