Why do you do this work?
I think about this question in two parts: first, why did I get into this work? And second, what keeps me doing it, year after year?

Like a lot of therapists, I started on this path because of my own experiences. There were moments in my life that knocked me to my knees. And in one of those pivotal moments, the people around me were struggling too. What struck me wasn’t just the pain—we all had that—but how differently we responded. Some leaned on faith. Some found comfort in routine. Some turned to humor. We were all trying to survive the best way we knew how. I wanted to understand that. I started reading, asking questions, volunteering at a grief center. And without realizing it at the time, I was coping through learning and service. That led me to grad school.

Why do I still do this work? Because even after all these years, I’m still fascinated by the way people find their way through—how resilience looks different in every person, how healing isn’t always about “getting over” something but learning to carry it differently. I get to sit with people who don’t always see their own strength yet, but it’s there. I get to witness those moments when something shifts, when hope finds its way back to the surface. And that’s an incredible way to spend my days.

How would you describe your style as a therapist?
Honestly, my clients could probably answer this better than I can. I can tell you I’m not very formal. You won’t find me sitting behind a desk, taking notes while you talk. I believe therapy works best when it feels like a real conversation—one where you can bring we bring our whole selves, not just the struggling parts.

Some sessions are deep dives, unraveling old patterns and making sense of things. Others are about figuring out what to do right now, in the present. I’ll ask a lot of questions to help you get clearer on what you want, not what anyone else thinks you should want. And when things get heavy, sometimes we’ll laugh. Because therapy isn’t just about pain—it’s about life, and life includes joy too. At the core of my work is the belief that therapy is a relationship. It’s not about me handing you solutions; it’s about creating a space where you can think, feel, and grow in a way that feels right for you.

How do people end up in psychological distress, and how do they find their way out?
There’s no single answer to this. Distress comes from so many places—sometimes from the world around us, sometimes from within. Maybe it’s the weight of expectations, family dynamics, or past trauma. Maybe it’s a brain that’s survived by being wired for anxiety or depression. Often, it’s a mix of many things.

We all do what we can to survive the environments we’re in. The problem is, what works in one moment of our lived doesn’t always work forever. If you grew up in chaos, maybe you learned to shut down emotions to stay safe. But later, when life is more stable, that same strategy might make it hard to connect with people you care about. Therapy is a space to figure out what’s working, what’s not, and what might work better.

Healing isn’t one-size-fits-all. Some people need structure, some need space. Some need to process the past, others just want tools to feel better now. But most healing paths have a few things in common—safety, trust, self-understanding, support, and the freedom to grow at your own pace.

What do you wish clients knew about therapy?
That it’s not all about digging through pain. You’re more than what brought you here, and therapy should reflect that. Some sessions might be hard, but others might feel like a relief—like finally putting words to something that’s been weighing on you, or realizing you have more choices than you thought.

I also wish people knew that therapy isn’t about “fixing” yourself. You’re not broken. The goal isn’t to become some idealized version of yourself; it’s to understand yourself better, to find ways to move through life that are authentic to you.

What do you wish clients knew about you?
That I’m human too. I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t pretend to. I know what it’s like to be in the middle of something hard, trying to figure it out as you go. And I know that growth is messy.

I also want people to know how much this work affects me. I don’t take it lightly when someone trusts me with their story. Every person I work with leaves an impact, and I’m grateful for that.

What would you be doing if you weren’t a psychologist?
I actually started out in journalism. Part of me still loves the idea of amplifying voices that need to be heard. But if I had to choose something else now? Probably working in a nonprofit focused on food insecurity. Or maybe running a tiny bookstore where people can just hang out, talk about ideas, and find new ways to see the world.​

Jami Wilder, Psy.D.

Licensed Clinical Psychologist

Phone: 401-921-3600  Email: wildertherapy@protonmail.com