
In Brief
A large part of what makes the Golden Thread community so special is the diversity of voices and perspectives from our readers. This month, we’re featuring Reland Finch, LPC. She is the Clinical Director at Healthy Minds Therapy, supervisor, and dedicated therapist with a passion for supporting the neurodivergent and trans communities. Take a look at our full interview below.
What’s something that people might be surprised to learn about you?
I’ve noticed that a lot of therapists talk about how they’ve been helping others since they were kids – they always knew the right thing to say, mediated family fights, and led student council. I always kind of laugh when I hear that, because it definitely wasn’t me. I was the anxious, undiagnosed neurodivergent kid who was scared of pretty much everything – from the car wash to monsters under the bed. Honestly, I was probably afraid of my own shadow. I spent a lot of time feeling overwhelmed, misunderstood, and like I was somehow broken for not being able to just “get it together.”
I’ve found that that lived experience is actually one of the most important things that I bring to the therapy room. I don’t have to imagine what it’s like to feel frozen by fear, or to have my struggles brushed off or misunderstood. I’ve been there.
That’s a big part of why I love working with anxious and neurodivergent clients. It means a lot to be able to offer the kind of support, tools, and validation I wish I’d had when I was younger.
Can you share your journey to becoming a therapist? What drew you to the profession?
Like a lot of people in this field, I came to therapy because of my own messy, painful recovery. I never planned to be a therapist. But going through my own healing process showed me how powerful it can be to finally let go of all the shame and rigid rules I’d been internalizing for way too long. I felt like I got my life back – and I knew I wanted to help other people find a similar sense of relief and possibility.
At first, I thought therapy was about helping people do what I did to get better. But that idea didn’t last long. Working with survivors of abuse, and later with folks on probation and parole in the heart of Washington, DC, I started to really understand how much bigger the picture is. I started to see how oppression shows up in our systems, including mental health, especially when it comes to bodies, identities, and access to care. For me, therapy has become a way to mix clinical work and advocacy. It’s about showing up with skill and a willingness to challenge the systems that make healing harder than it needs to be.
Even on tough days, I remind myself that I’m not doing this alone – I’m part of a community of therapists, all working together to make things a little bit better, one session at a time.
If you could offer one piece of wisdom to newer therapists, what would it be?
Don’t be afraid to try everything. It’s tempting to specialize quickly or stick to populations or diagnoses that feel safe or familiar. But you will never again have the same access to supervision and mentorship as you do during your training years. I tell every intern and resident I meet to see the widest possible range of people and presenting concerns – kids, teens, adults, couples, groups, crisis work, even populations you think you won’t “click” with. You may surprise yourself, and these experiences will make you a more skilled therapist.
If possible, try a couple of different settings – community mental health, day programs, hospitals, and residential programs – before you settle into a long-term role. These experiences, while not always easy, will serve you for the rest of your career.
Do you have a daily ritual or habit that grounds you before seeing clients or between sessions?
I like to take a walk through my neighborhood, usually with my dog, Amity. She is quite a spoiled little puppy and loves to stop by our neighborhood coffee shop for a pup cup, and I enjoy getting out of the house to clear my head between sessions.
Making sure to get some gentle movement (and a little caffeine!) helps me stay present and grounded for the people I work with.

What’s one underrated or overlooked therapeutic skill you think more clinicians should focus on?
Personally, I really appreciate Motivational Interviewing (MI) because of its ability to evoke underlying client motivation and its respect for client autonomy. There are many powerful modalities for clients who are ready to change, but few modalities that are as effective as MI when working with clients who are in the precontemplation or contemplation stages of change.
I wish that grad programs focused more on MI because I believe it would facilitate positive change for many clients, especially the substance abuse and eating disorder recovery communities.
This field isn’t about fitting into a cookie-cutter mold – it’s about being real. I’m all about showing up as my unfiltered self, letting clients know that recovery is messy but absolutely possible, and that everyone deserves to find hope again.
What do you do to take care of your own mental and emotional well-being?
Outside of work, I love diving into whatever random thing I’m obsessed with at the moment. I’m neurodivergent, so instead of trying to do the whole “work-life balance” thing, I just follow my interests wherever they take me. Sometimes that means building weird little Power Automate apps in Microsoft for fun. Other times I’m deep into a rabbit hole about World War II submarines, or painting scenes from fantasy books I love, or randomly memorizing musicals. Whatever it is, it helps me reset after heavy days with clients. I’m also a big fan of gentle movement, making stuff, and spending time with people who are just as quirky and nerdy as I am!
How do you set boundaries around your time, especially with client communication or documentation?
I had to learn to set boundaries with myself about my documentation. My wife is the one who taught me the “get it off the desk” approach, and it saved me a lot of time and energy. The idea is: unless you’re doing brain surgery, perfection is getting in the way of being done.
In residency, I used to spend hours every night doing my notes – which meant a lot of late nights. These days, my notes may not be particularly poetic, but they’re short, to the point, and most importantly, done. I write the essentials, and then move on. That mindset has saved my time, my evenings, and honestly, my sanity.

How do you maintain a sense of meaning and motivation in your work over time?
Sometimes the world feels like a lot to take in. I find that it’s often easy to feel small and powerless. But I try to stay grounded knowing that, right where I am, I can make a difference. I get to help people feel safer in their own minds and bodies, and I get to stand up for clients who are facing unfair systems. That’s what gives me hope. Even on tough days, I remind myself that I’m not doing this alone – I’m part of a community of therapists, all working together to make things a little bit better, one session at a time.
Is there anything else you'd like to share with our readers?
I used to think things like my nerdiness, my neurodivergent brain that tries to focus on 20 things at once, my health struggles, and my queerness would hold me back from being a “professional.” But honestly, those are some of my biggest superpowers as a therapist and leader.
This field isn’t about fitting into a cookie-cutter mold – it’s about being real. I’m all about showing up as my unfiltered self, letting clients know that recovery is messy but absolutely possible, and that everyone deserves to find hope again. I feel lucky every day to do this work.
