I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of throwing things away, not just in the material sense. Part of the work I’m doing in tapering off antidepressants and engaging in (so much) talk therapy is aimed at shedding those things, mostly in the form of emotional baggage and harmful habits, that don’t contribute to my wellness. At the same time, there’s also this voice in the back of my head that encourages me to hang onto it, as if I could somehow run out and it would be a bad thing. Ironically, I seem to have developed insecurity insecurity, where I am anxious about no longer having anxiety. I hate throwing away anything for which I can perceive a purpose, no matter how remote. Whether it’s old wine bottles or shredded paper, I can envision a craft or art project for which they would be perfect.
When it comes to my emotional baggage, it’s a combination of comfort and familiarity with which I do not wish to part and fear that I do not know what will take up that space. As I emerge from the dark place I have inhabited these many, many months, I find myself feeling hollow where the emotional turmoil used to be. Although I should be celebrating its release, I’m struggling to accept it. This new lightness feels both freeing and exposing. There is less shielding between me and the outside world. It’s something for which I have no good answers at the moment. Instead, I sit with my newfound space, learning to recognize that not every gap needs to be filled.
From history major, with side quests in Medieval Studies and chemical engineering, to nonprofit finance leader, Big 4 tax partner, technologist, researcher, and now co-founder of Divine, nothing about my career has been linear. The throughline has always been systems: financial systems, organizational systems, technological systems, and human systems. I have an MBA in Operations and Supply Chain Management and a PhD in Organizational Leadership Psychology, and I’ve spent my career trying to understand how complex systems shape people’s choices, opportunities, wellbeing, and sense of belonging. Today, my work sits at the intersection of psychology, technology, human-centered design, and digital trust. I am co-founder of Divine, an open-source, decentralized social video app built to put creativity back in human hands and replace doomscrolling with joyscrolling. Divine is part of a bigger question I care deeply about: how do we create online spaces that support safety, creativity, identity, and belonging without defaulting to surveillance, extraction, or control? At Divine, I wear a lot of hats across engineering, finance, operations, and strategy, while helping shape the app’s trust, safety, and values work. I focus especially on teen online safety, human-generated content, participatory design, and healthier relationships with technology. I am a postdoctoral alum of Vanderbilt University’s Department of Computer Science, where I worked with Dr. Pam Wisniewski’s Socio-Technical Interaction Research Lab. I continue to write, speak, and research at the intersection of online safety, digital trust, decentralized technology, and youth wellbeing. I was named a Distinguished Fellow at the Institute for Data Integrity in 2023. In 2025, I had the honor of serving as President of Division 13 of the American Psychological Association, the Society of Consulting Psychology. I also live with major depressive disorder and obsessive-compulsive disorder. In 2020, I took a leave from PwC to focus on my mental wellness, and I now speak and write openly about mental health, especially in the workplace and in relation to digital wellbeing. This blog, Seriously Jerk Brain, chronicles much of that journey.
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Art usually expresses those feelings best. I remember the prisoners staggering into the light from the dungeon in Fidelio..
Seriously, Jerk Brain?! 
Art usually expresses those feelings best. I remember the prisoners staggering into the light from the dungeon in Fidelio..
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