Vancouver Recovery Coach
Recovery doesn’t happen all at once — and it rarely happens alone.
Having someone beside you can bring steadiness, perspective, and relief when things feel uncertain. Recovery coaching isn’t about fixing you or telling you what to do. It’s about walking with you as you regain clarity, confidence, and a sense of direction — at your own pace.
You don’t have to decide anything today.

My Approach
People often ask about my approach to recovery coaching. What matters more, in my experience, is what actually happens when two people sit down and talk honestly.
Most people I meet already know one thing for certain: something needs to change.
What they’re often less certain about is what that change looks like, or how to talk about it clearly yet.
What they do know is that they want a place to speak openly — and that, if trust is there, they’re ready for a real conversation.
At that point, my approach is usually much simpler than people expect.
It begins with a genuine interest in your story, real respect for your privacy, and a deep appreciation for honesty when it shows up — not performative honesty, but the kind that comes out when someone feels safe enough to speak without being corrected or managed.
When I first got sober, street photography became part of my daily life. Over time, it taught me how to pay closer attention — to small details, subtle shifts, and the difference between what we think we see and what’s actually there.
That way of noticing has stayed with me.
So, my approach as a recovery coach is relational at its core.
I focus on creating the conditions for trust, encouraging curiosity and creativity, and making room for good conversation — the kind that includes honesty, humour, and discovery. Not because those things fix people, but because they help people hear themselves more clearly.
When that happens, everyone benefits.
The client does.
I do.
And the people around us — family, friends, coworkers — often meet a version of each of us that’s a little closer to who we’re most proud to be.
If you’ve reached a moment where you feel ready, you’re welcome to reach out.

My Approach
People often ask about my approach to recovery coaching. What matters more, in my experience, is what actually happens when two people sit down and talk honestly.
Most people I meet already know one thing for certain: something needs to change. What they’re often less certain about is what that change looks like, or how to talk about it clearly yet. What they do know is that they want a place to speak openly — and that, if trust is there, they’re ready for a real conversation.
At that point, my approach is usually much simpler than people expect. It begins with a genuine interest in your story, real respect for your privacy, and a deep appreciation for honesty when it shows up — not performative honesty, but the kind that emerges when someone feels safe enough to speak without being corrected or managed.
When I first got sober, street photography became part of my daily life. Over time, it taught me how to pay closer attention — to small details, subtle shifts, and the difference between what we think we see and what’s actually there. That way of noticing has stayed with me.
My approach as a recovery coach is relational at its core. I focus on creating the conditions for trust, encouraging curiosity and creativity, and making room for good conversation — the kind that includes honesty, humour, and discovery. Not because those things fix people, but because they help people hear themselves more clearly.
When that happens, everyone benefits. The client does. I do. And the people around us — family, friends, coworkers — often meet a version of each of us that’s a little closer to who we’re most proud to be.
If you’ve reached a moment where you feel ready, you’re welcome to reach out.

Still Not Sure What Support Should Look Like?
Reading about someone’s experience doesn’t always make the next step clearer — sometimes it raises more questions. That’s okay.
If it would help to talk things through quietly, without pressure or expectations, you’re welcome to reach out. We can start with a short, confidential conversation — just a chance to see whether working together feels right.
You don’t need to decide anything today.

Wondering What It Might Be Like to Work This Way?
Not everyone who reaches out is in crisis — and not everyone needs to be. Sometimes it’s simply a sense that something feels off, or that carrying it alone is getting heavier.
If it would help to talk things through at a steady pace, without pressure to define or decide anything, you’re welcome to reach out. We can start with a short, confidential conversation — just a chance to explore what’s been on your mind and see whether this way of working feels right.
You don’t need to be certain, committed to a specific outcome, or ready to make changes today.