I see you
You're the one running meetings at 10am and researching how to increase your milk supply at 3am.
You're managing daycare drop-offs, pumping schedules, medical appointments, your parent's prescription refills and opinions.
You're up before anyone else. Not because you want to be — but because your brain already started the day without you.
"I try to relax but my mind doesn't know how to shut off"
"I feel guilty b/c I hold a lot of space for my patients at work but when I come home, my child get the tired version of me"
"I don't know who I am anymore, I just don't feel like myself"
"If I don't get a handle on this, I'm going to break"
You are still functioning. Still showing up. Still delivering.
But internally? You feel unsettled. Confused. Like you are completely on your own.
Culturally, there isn’t much room to fall apart. There is strength. There is resilience.
There is “other people have it worse” and “just pray about it.”
So you keep going. Because that's what you've always done.
You are not losing it, Mama. You are carrying more than anyone around you realizes.
Hey Mama! It's Cynthia
I'm a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist and I specialize in perinatal mental health for older millennial BIPOC moms in the Bay Area and throughout California — the ones whose minds won't shut off, even when the baby is finally asleep.
I work with women whose baseline is overdelivering. The dependable one. The one who keeps everything running behind a smile. Who handles complexity quietly, pushes through exhaustion, and puts herself last — not as a sacrifice, but because that's just what you do.
Operating in excellence was never optional. It was survival. It was how you learned to exist in rooms where you were the only one who looked like you.
And then motherhood after 36 happened — planned or not. Maybe it involved fertility treatments, a loss, a pregnancy that turned high-risk, a body that felt unpredictable, and a medical system that felt cold when you needed warmth most.
Maybe your baby is here now and you still don't feel like yourself. You can't figure out why. And you're scared to say that out loud.
You're not falling apart. You've just been carrying too much, for too long, without anywhere to put it down.
What therapy with me feels like
Respect.
Relatable.
Real.
My approach is evidence-based and clinically grounded. But I'd rather show you what the work feels like rather than list the theories behind it — because you're not a diagnosis. You're a whole ass phenominal woman in what might be your hardest season.
We start by slowing things down.
I know — that might make you uncomfortable. The women I work with have spent their lives being told to do more, be more, manage more. Slowing down can feel like failing.
But here’s what I’ve learned sitting across from hundreds of clients: the answer isn’t to just to find coping strategies and manage your way through it. There's a lot more that is needed to just "cope."
That means we dive in and do the deep work. We take notice of where you are — not where you think you should be. Sometimes that means unlearning how you have been conditioned b/c of colonial mentality. We look at what you’re carrying and get honest about what’s yours and what was passed onto you. We clear out what no longer serves this season of your life (because you might be functioning on old rules). And we strengthen the parts of you that need to be developed so you can mother they way you need to be in today's world. Let's make this sustainable and built on what your daily capacity looks like. And yes, it's different every day.
Doing the work means ...
Heal
We process and move what’s been consuming you. The medical trauma. The birth that didn’t go as planned. The fertility treatments. The grief. The unsaid generational pressure and expectations. We work with your nervous system so your body can feel safe again.
Calibrate
We tune into what you truly have capacity for. We examine the expectations you’ve been carrying and decide what actually fits the life you’re living now. Some things get released. Some things get restructured. And you learn to be strategic about how you want to use your energy — instead of pouring it into everything and wondering why you’re feeling empty.
Ingegrate
Take what you’ve learned and live in it. Try the new way on. Let yourself be held — by family, friends, your providers, your people.
Come home to yourself — not as the woman you were before, but as the one who is willing to try different ways of experiencing curiosity, vulnerability, and let go of the expectation of having to "know" everything.
You are not lost and broken. You are a woman who can handle hard things. We’re just going to make sure you’re not doing it functioning under your old rules. It's not going to work sis.
The goals is to create safety to live in your body and the home you created for yourself.
You'll learn to know what she is saying and explore what it craves and how it thrives.
Get to know her warning signals so you can tend to it, no matter what is happening all around you.
This space was built for you if...
You’re a woman who has always overdelivered. At work, at home, in your family. Achievement wasn’t optional — it was responsibility. It was how you honored what came before you and how you plan on taking care of your legacy.
Maybe you’re a mom-praneur, doctor, lawyer, a nurse, or tech lead. Whatever the title, you earned every bit of it by being the one who always showed up no matter what, even if it sucked the life out of you.
So you became a mother after 36 — perhaps after deciding to start later, or after years of trying, fertility treatments, or miscarriages. You had a plan of action and a timeline. And yet, the timing in your body became unpredictable. The medical team has a list of interventions, not knowing which procedure would work. You then start to question your decisions which are loaded with guilt.
Through it all, you had moments that you fell apart, but you kept it all to yourself and held the hope, sadness, disappointments, and joy in your body.
Some of the moms I've worked with also experience:
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A NICU stay you never really processed — the isolette, the machines, the beeping, the fear of holding your fragile baby
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Fertility treatments and years of trying that left you exhausted and holding your breath before the baby even arrived
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The sudden shock of going back to work and putting out fires all day, and feeling empty when coming home because they gave their day almost everything
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Aging parents whose needs are growing at the same time your baby’s are
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The grief of a pregnancy that didn’t go as planned or the loss nobody around you fully understands
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The guilt of coming home without your baby — and feeling guilty about being able to rest at night when they are in the NICU.
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A partner who tries but doesn’t quite get it — and a mother who says, “Well, I’ll just do it”
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Expectations that say “be strong,” “pray about it,” “other people have it worse”
If you read the list above and felt something tighten — or release — trust that. You’re in the right place.
Questions you might be sitting with
I’m not in crisis — and I’ve tried therapy before and it didn’t really help. Is this actually for someone like me?
Yes. Most of the women I work with aren’t in crisis — they’re high-functioning and quietly exhausted. And if therapy felt too surface-level before, this is different. We don’t stay at the coping skills level. We go underneath the overwhelm into the beliefs and patterns keeping you stuck. This is depth work for women who know something isn’t working but haven’t found a space that could hold the full picture.
I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is “bad enough” for therapy. Is it?
I hear this all the time — and honestly? It breaks me. Because the women asking this question are usually the ones who have been carrying more that they've needed to, for the longest time, with the least support. If you’re wondering whether it’s bad enough, you’re probably afraid that others will see you break. You don’t need to wait until things fall apart to find the support you need.
What is perinatal mental health therapy?
Perinatal mental health therapy is specialized support for women during pregnancy, postpartum, and the early years of motherhood. But the way I practice it, it’s more than managing symptoms. It’s depth work — we look at the anxiety, the mood shifts, the grief, the identity changes, and the invisible mental load. And we go underneath all of that to the beliefs and conditioning that are keeping you stuck. The goal is to help you build a nervous system that can hold complexity and build a different type of capacity so you can continue to evolve while mothering and leading, and while feeling at home in your body.
Do you work with women going through fertility treatments or pregnancy loss?
Yes. I work with women across the full reproductive experience — from fertility challenges and pregnancy loss through postpartum and beyond. I’ve lived some of this myself and also have professional training. Grief, hope, and uncertainty often live side by side during this time, and I hold space for all of it.
How do virtual sessions work?
All sessions happen over secure video. You can show up from home, your (parked) car after school drop-off, your office with the door closed — wherever feels private. A lot of the moms I work with actually prefer virtual because there’s no commute, no childcare to arrange, and you can attend from wherever your day already has you.
What does a session cost?
Sessions are $250 for a 60 min session. I choose to not take insurance so that I am accountable to you. Our time together is about what you need, not what a company will pay for. I will provide you with a superbill at the end of the month in which you will submit to your insurance and obtain partial reimbursement.
