The first time I sat in a therapist’s office, I didn’t know how much I’d have to leave at the door.
I came in with layers.
Faith. Culture. Family roles.
Grief I didn’t have words for. Guilt I didn’t know I was allowed to question.
And the pressure to make sure everyone else around me was okay—even when I wasn’t.
But none of that showed up in the room.
She asked about my stress and my goals, but not the things that were really sitting on my chest.
Not the parts of my identity that shaped everything about how I felt and how I struggled.
Not the stories I grew up with, the roles I was expected to play, or the quiet fears I didn’t know how to name.
That’s when I realized something:
Therapy wasn’t built for people like me.
So I built something different.
I didn’t want a space that treated my culture or my religion as a side note.
I didn’t want to feel like I had to explain everything—why setting boundaries felt like betrayal, or why the word “selfish” echoed so loudly in my head every time I took care of myself.
I needed a therapist who understood that healing doesn’t always look like sitting still and breathing deeply.
Sometimes, healing looks like unlearning guilt.
Sometimes it looks like grieving people who are still alive.
Sometimes it looks like not being the strong one all the time.
I needed someone who could see all of me—faith, ambition, exhaustion, people-pleasing, softness, rage—and hold space for it without judgment.
Believe me, I searched.
But that someone didn’t exist.
So I became her.
And then I created Crescent Counseling & Coaching for everyone else who felt like they didn’t belong in therapy either.
Crescent Counseling & Coaching isn’t just a private practice. It’s a response.
To all the Muslim, South Asian, Middle Eastern, and immigrant-background clients who have walked into therapy and felt like something was missing.
It’s for the women who carry the weight of everyone else’s emotions.
The men who were never taught to talk about their feelings.
The daughters who are tired of being told to “just be grateful.”
The high-achievers whose burnout no one sees because they’re still performing well.
The neurodivergent kids who became perfectionist adults.
The people who don’t know how to say, “I’m not okay,” without feeling like a burden.
Crescent exists because healing shouldn’t require you to erase any part of yourself.
So many of my clients come in feeling like they’ve had to choose.
Choose between being a “good” daughter or being honest about their needs.
Choose between honoring their faith or exploring their anxiety.
Choose between fitting in and feeling free.
At Crescent Counseling, I don’t ask you to choose.
We talk about how Islam, culture, family systems, and modern therapy can coexist.
We talk about the messy middle—where you love your family but need space.
Where you believe in God but still have questions.
Where you want peace but don’t know how to stop overthinking.
This is a space for those conversations—the ones that don’t always fit into a treatment plan or DSM diagnosis but live in your body every day.
Crescent Counseling was born out of my own journey. Out of sitting in different therapy offices for years and realizing that while I believed in the process, I didn’t believe in how it was being delivered—for people like me.
Now, I get to sit across from people who don’t have to translate their pain.
Who don’t have to explain what it means to be the eldest daughter.
Who don’t have to pretend their faith is separate from their identity.
Who don’t have to feel like they’re “too much.”
I get to tell them what I once needed someone to tell me:
You’re not broken. You’re just layered. And you’re allowed to take up space.
You don’t need to have the perfect words.
You don’t need a diagnosis.
You don’t need to justify your story.
If you’re Muslim, South Asian, Middle Eastern, neurodivergent, a cycle-breaker, or someone who’s just tired of carrying everything alone— I am here for you.
You were never too complicated. You were just never fully seen. Now you are.