Joseph Huang

What was your path to becoming a therapist?

Unsurprisingly, I grew up as something of a nerd. In a hyper-competitive education system, success was measured by my rank—and that high scores brought tangible rewards, both from others and from myself. But this system failed in cultivate my interest, thus I found all subjects boring and had no idea what I will do in the future.

My path toward becoming a therapist began with a small and sudden spark in my mind: this seems like a cool career. Later in life I realized many people don't think so. My mind also changed several times as I learned more about this job and this industry. What’s not changed is my belief: the coolest thing is being able to do what I want, to be who I want to be.

Here are my wishes and my values: I dream of a world where people honor each other’s autonomy, granting everyone the freedom to shape their own path; where authenticity thrives, encouraging us to live and speak with integrity; where cultural humility leads us to embrace diverse perspectives with genuine curiosity; and where a nonjudgmental stance creates spaces of true acceptance for every thought and feeling.

There are different paths to approach such values, and I choose to become a therapist.

While the overview captures my ideal motivations, my actual journey was more pragmatic. I majored in Psychology as an undergraduate, where I discovered and trained as a peer counselor. Through internships and campus activities, I embraced diverse roles—researcher, content creator, HR assistant, and small-group leader—each sharpening my skills and deepening my understanding of people. Finally, I committed to a career in counseling and moved to New York to pursue professional training and practice.

What should someone know about working with you?

My style is spontaneous and creative, rooted in what you’re truly experiencing in the moment. In simpler terms, my therapy isn’t a classroom or a medical exam, but a natural, flowing conversation. Although I may offer psycho-education when it’s useful, the core of our work is collaborating to explore and understand your concerns together.

For many psychological struggles, healing isn’t about “solving” but about “experiencing”—fully feeling, understanding, and integrating. Issues like trauma, dissociation, attachment wounds, and existential anxiety often call for us to notice the “shackles” that hold us back, feel how they shape our lives, face the pain they bring, and gently repair the wounds they leave behind.

At the same time, we focus on reducing the kinds of suffering that can be avoided—things like anxiety, depression, perfectionism, and interpersonal conflict. While there are many evidence-based tools available, true effectiveness comes from methods that match your pace, personality, and lifestyle. It’s like trying different instruments, playing styles, and genres until you find the “sound” you can naturally keep playing—and keep benefiting from.

Who are your ideal clients?

I welcome clients of any background or identity. If you’re willing to try trusting me, we can begin this journey together.

I once believed an ideal counseling relationship depended on a “perfect match”—aligned styles, smooth communication, and rapid progress. Over time, I’ve learned there’s no fixed standard for a match. Rigid expectations often limit our openness and our ability to trust as the relationship naturally unfolds. What truly matters is your willingness to enter this relationship and explore together.

Are there any aspects of your personal self, therapeutic approach, or your viewpoints on therapy and life that might carry a subtle edge, be slightly controversial, or challenge norms?

Sometimes we spend several sessions exploring a single issue, and after dozens of meetings, we arrive at a conclusion that feels simple—or even something we already “knew.” For example: “Holding in your feelings has a cost”, “Relationship problems are never just one person’s fault”, or “Even if you can’t be perfect, the world won’t end”.

From an outsider’s perspective, these moments might seem ordinary, as if two people have merely stated truths everyone already understands. But for the person living it, the experience is profound—because the insight is no longer just information, but a real understanding born from feeling and struggle.

Many of the “shackles” we carry are ones we’ve always “known” about but couldn’t break free from. That often happens because those ideas were imposed on us, not discovered by us. Only when we open our eyes to see the knots in our hearts—and understand how they formed—can true change begin. That’s when knowledge transforms into wisdom.