You sit across from your new therapist. Your heart is pounding. You want to talk about the argument you had with your partner, and the best metaphor you have for the feeling of betrayal is the plot twist from your favorite sci-fi show, but you stop yourself. “That’s too weird,” your brain screams. “Just be normal. Talk about your feelings like a grown-up.” So you give a vague, sanitized version of the story, and the real, vibrant, authentic truth remains locked away, unheard.

Does that feel familiar? The constant, exhausting work of translating your rich, technicolor inner world into a grayscale, “professional” summary for the outside world? You’ve spent your life learning to mask your real passions to avoid judgment, and you assume the therapy room is the final exam for “acting normal.”

“I spend so much energy in therapy trying to sound like a ‘good patient’ that I forget to talk about the things that are actually bothering me. I’m afraid if I mention video games or a meme, they’ll think I’m immature.”

The “blank slate” therapist model is directly responsible for this fear. It creates a sterile, judgmental environment where the client feels they are being graded on their ability to perform “normalcy.” It is a system that forces you to bring a watered-down, acceptable version of yourself, leaving the parts that most need healing out in the waiting room. It is a barrier, not a bridge.

Here is our core belief: Your passions are not a distraction from the work; they are the most direct pathways into it.

Your deep knowledge of a video game’s lore, your favorite Taylor Swift era, your meticulously planned D&D campaign—these are not “childish” interests. They are the complex, nuanced languages your brain uses to make sense of the world, to process emotion, and to build meaning. A good therapist doesn’t ignore that language; they become fluent in it. This is the foundation of a real therapeutic relationship.

How does a “weird” interest become a therapeutic tool?

• Your D&D character’s backstory becomes a safe, externalized map of your own values, strengths, and traumas.

• A conflict between two characters in a TV show becomes a low-stakes way to talk about a high-stakes conflict in your own family.

• The executive functions required to manage a complex Stardew Valley farm become a blueprint for managing the overwhelming tasks of your own life.

You have permission to be your full, nerdy, authentic self.

You have permission to use the language and stories that actually mean something to you.

You have permission to expect your therapist to meet you where you are, not where they think you should be.

You do not need a therapist who performs a clinical role from a textbook. You need a real human who is willing to meet you in the worlds you love. Stop translating. Start connecting. The first step is always a simple ‘fit check’ to see if our method is right for you. Bring your weird. We’re fluent in it.