Who’s Erik and the Heart Behind his Work (and a Few Fun Facts Too)

Hey there — I’m really glad you’re here.
Whether you found your way here because life feels a bit heavy, relationships are hard, grief is loud, or you're just quietly wondering, “Am I okay?”... you’re welcome.

This blog is a space for reflection.
Not surface-level advice.
Not clickbait therapy hacks.
Just real thoughts about life, healing, relationships, identity, and the deep work of becoming more whole.But before I get too deep — let me back up and introduce myself.

Who I Am (Besides a Therapist)

My name is Erik, and I’m a therapist. Actually a Licensed Professional Counselor.  In my world of mental health there are so many pseudonyms.  LPC, Counselor, Therapist, Couples Counselor, Marriage Counselor, Psychotherapist and my personal favorite that a client of mine calls me thERIK.  Pronounced (Ther-rik).  

But I’m also a person who:

• Loves live music (especially outdoors- love me some Red Rocks Amphitheater here in Colorado)

• Spends time on the golf course trying to master patience and humility; Im still a work in progress here.

• Finds joy in camping, being off the grid, and waking up to quiet mornings

• Believes in long, deep conversations and fiercely loyal relationships

• Can get weirdly passionate about a good playlist or meaningful lyrics. More to come on this in future posts.

Professionally, I sit with people who are grieving, unraveling, or quietly holding too much.
But personally? I’m just someone who believes we weren’t meant to do life alone — and that the most sacred spaces are often the messiest ones.

A Bit About My Values

Here’s what I believe:

• Relationships are why we’re here. That’s it. That’s the sentence.
  As a Christian, I see this in the shape of the cross — a vertical relationship with God, and a horizontal one with others. When we lose connection in either direction, life feels off.

• Time is more valuable than money. Once it's spent, you don't get it back. And when life hits hard — a diagnosis, a death, a divorce, a moment of truth — people start to see that more clearly.

• You don’t need to be fixed — you need to be known. Most of us don’t need someone to give us the answers. We need someone to walk with us long enough that we can hear our own voice again.

These values don’t just shape my work.
They shape my life — how I parent, how I love, how I spend my time, and how I show up in session.

What This Blog Will Be

Let’s be clear: I will not be giving you “7 Ways to Be Happy by Friday.”
There are enough blogs doing that.

What I will do is offer thoughtful reflection.
Share tools that help — when they’re useful.

Things that have shaped my education and learning.
Sometimes I’ll give you a reframe, a practice, or a perspective that’s helped clients (or me) slow down and see things differently.

But this isn’t about quick fixes.
This blog is about soul-level stuff.
The kind of things we usually avoid until they show up in our bodies, our relationships, or our exhausted spirits.

I’ll write about:

• Grief (not just death — all the quiet losses, too)

• Relationships — especially when you feel alone in one

• Anxiety, identity, spiritual disconnection, and trying to hold it all together

• What it means to be a high-functioning adult who’s secretly unraveling

• Therapy that isn’t just maintenance — it’s healing

And I’ll do my best to make it real.
Honest.
Sometimes a little raw.
Sometimes a little funny.
But always human.

Why This Work Matters to Me

I do this work because I believe healing happens in relationship — with God, with others, and with ourselves.
Because I’ve watched people crawl their way through grief… and slowly, one breath at a time, find light again.
Because I’ve sat with people who thought they were “too much,” and watched them feel seen for the first time.

And I also do this work because — quite frankly — life is hard.
Pain comes for all of us.

And when it does, we need spaces where we don’t have to be fine.

If you’re here, maybe something in you is tired of pretending.
Maybe you’re ready to start telling the truth — even if just to yourself.

If so… I’m really glad you’re here.
Let’s walk gently from here.