I chose psychiatry because I saw its power up close. My mother is a community psychiatrist who changed lives across languages and cultures. My stepfather is a leader in cultural psychiatry and a professor who conducted research to deepen our understanding of the science of mental health. In high school I worked the front desk in my mother’s clinic and watched a young man with schizophrenia transform over months from being withdrawn to connected. Years later in medical school, I realized on a Friday night that I was reading a psychiatry textbook for fun. I knew then this is the work I would still love decades later.

I’m most at home with older adults. My grandmother helped raise me and filled our home with Vietnamese proverbs, discipline, and love. With elders, I feel that easy, natural “flow” where conversation and problem-solving come alive. Clinically, I’m drawn to the puzzle of late-life mental health, where medical and psychiatric symptoms intertwine. A urinary infection can look like confusion. A subtle personality shift can signal a neurological issue. My job is to notice what others miss; my passion is to care about things that others dismiss — from the medication list to the exercise regimen to the bedtime routine. Once, in a first visit, I urged a reluctant patient to get brain imaging because her symptoms matched a neurological vs. a psychiatric problem; the scan ended up revealing a large frontal lobe tumor. She later told me, “You saved my life.”

I practice integrative psychiatry because many of my older patients are sensitive to side effects of traditional psychiatric medication, and I have found over-the-counter supplements and behavioral strategies to be immensely effective. We will adjust slowly, with compounded doses whenever needed, so you can feel better without feeling numb. When I see that my patients are on medications that are either unnecessary or possibly causing problems, I deprescribe, which means tapering off of medications in a thoughtful manner. When supplements or nutrition changes can help, we consider them. I review labs, sleep patterns, meals, activity, and relationships, because mood does not live in a vacuum. My public-health training taught me to see the system. My private practice lets me give you the time and attention the system often cannot.

My story is also shaped by family, culture, and resilience. I was raised by Vietnamese refugees who lost nearly everything and rebuilt. Their resilience inspired me to cofound VietHope in 2002, a nonprofit providing educational opportunities to low-income students in Vietnam. As a child of divorce I learned thrift and resourcefulness, and I understand how shame can color decisions. I now care for my father, who lives with Parkinson’s and had a spinal injury that briefly left him quadriplegic. Caregiving is the hardest and most meaningful work I do outside the clinic. It taught me how roles shift, how communication must change, and how love can feel like control when fear is in the room. I bring that perspective to families who are doing their best in impossible situations.

Patients describe me as warm, upbeat, and relentlessly thorough. They tell me they look forward to our visits because they feel better after we talk and plan. A line you might hear from me is, “We will take things very slowly, using tailored doses, so you stay comfortable.” I smile a lot. I also ask direct questions when needed, gently and clearly.

Outside of work, my approach to families is also informed by my role a mother of a 3 year old. I love deep conversations, big laughs, and a little goofiness. Most evenings you’ll find me on the floor with my three-year-old, reading, playing pretend, answering her wonderfully complicated questions. Spiritually, I draw from Buddhist principles and teachers like Michael Singer and Eckhart Tolle. I practice being the steady witness to thoughts and feelings. For those who are interested, I help patients cultivate that same compassionate awareness.

If you or someone you love is ready for careful, comprehensive care, I would be honored to help.