I'm Anne Douglas, a Licensed Mental Health Counselor Associate, continuing to grow under the mentorship of a licensed clinical supervisor. My practice is full of women who are done holding everyone else together and ready to come back to themselves, some just starting to notice old patterns, others deep in the process of unlearning them.

I've spent twenty years learning how to really listen, how to build trust at someone's own pace, and how to make the relationship between us feel like the safest part of the process. That's at the center of everything I bring into session.

I believe healing happens through being understood, not diagnosed. We all carry patterns, ways of showing up, giving, disappearing, over-functioning, that were shaped long before we had the words for them. That's why I went back and earned my master's in clinical mental health counseling, to understand those patterns on a deeper level and help women work through them toward actually feeling like themselves again.

My own journey of untangling my story over the years is what led me here, the desire to walk alongside other women doing this same, courageous work.

You are in the right place

A cozy corner of a room with a blue upholstered chair, a wooden shelf with a beige ceramic water dispenser, several glasses, a cloth, and a water bottle, and abstract artwork on the wall.

Outside of session, I'm quieter than people expect. Born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, you'll usually find me with my family, that's where I'm happiest, deep in a book I probably won't finish, a few episodes into a documentary or whatever reality show I'm currently embarrassingly invested in, or hunting for hidden gems at thrift stores so I can redecorate a room for the third time this month.

I've always been the type to find the humor in the mundane. It makes ordinary days feel a little more joyful.

A little about me

When you finally hear your own voice, things begin to change.

I spent years looking to everyone else to tell me who I was and what I wanted, giving and giving, hoping it would come back to me, hoping it would finally make me feel like enough. Mostly, it just left me lonelier.

When I started my own therapy, things began to change. I found my way back to my own worth, my own voice, the wisdom that had been there the whole time.

I learned how to be the main character in my own life, instead of a supporting actress in everyone else's.

Since then, I've spent years sitting with women who carry some version of the same story. The ones everyone calls. The fixers, the strong ones, the ones who show up for everyone but themselves. I see the pattern clearly now, because I lived it, and because I've watched it up close, again and again, in women just like you.

Two people are sitting at a table working on a laptop and writing in notebooks, with a glass of water and a pen on the table. In the background, there are minimalistic vases with white flowers and a wooden panel on the wall.

How I can help

Boundaries that don't come with a guilt hangover. Saying no, meaning it, not spiraling after.

Self-abandonment, named and unlearned. The habit of putting yourself last until you forget you're on the list.

Patterns traced back to where they started. Gently, without judgment.

Your sensitivity, reclaimed as a strength. Not a flaw to manage.

The women I work with are at every stage of this. Some are just starting to notice the pattern. Others are deep in unlearning it. Wherever you are, I'd love to meet you there.

01 BOUNDARIES ARE LOVE, NOT WITHDRAWAL
Saying no isn’t selfish. It's how to teach people to love the real you.

02 YOU ALREADY HAVE THE ANSWERS
My job isn't to hand you a fix. It's to help you hear what you already know.

03 UNDERSTOOD, NOT DIAGNOSED
Healing doesn't come from a label. It comes from finally being seen.

04 YOUR SENSITIVITY WAS NEVER THE PROBLEM
It's not too much. It's just been misunderstood.

05 IF YOU CAN NAME IT, YOU CAN TAME IT
The patterns only have power when they're invisible. Once you can see them, you can change them.

If any of this sounds like you, I'd love to meet you.

What I Believe