Okay, so I gotta tell you about my quest to find a therapist in San Francisco. It was a journey, man, a real journey.
First off, I started with the obvious: Google. Typed in “nicole yee therapist san francisco” just like the title says. I figured Nicole Yee sounded like a local name, and maybe, just maybe, she was the key to my sanity. Or at least, someone who could listen to me vent for an hour.
Anyway, Google spat out a bunch of results. Mostly directories like Psychology Today and *. So, I dove in. Started filtering. SF? Check. Accepts my insurance? Double-check. Specializes in anxiety/stress/existential dread? Triple-check. You know, the usual millennial problems.
Next up, profile creeping. I clicked through a ton of these therapist profiles. Reading their bios, looking at their pictures (you gotta get a vibe, right?), trying to figure out if they sounded like someone I could actually talk to. Some were super clinical, all jargon and fancy certifications. Others felt…generic. Like they copy-pasted the same bio for every directory.
After hours of scrolling, I had a shortlist. Maybe five or six therapists who seemed promising. Now came the real fun: emailing them. Crafting the perfect “Hi, I’m a mess, please help me” email without sounding too desperate. Explained my situation briefly, asked about their availability, and crossed my fingers.
Most didn’t even bother to reply. Ghosted! I get it, they’re busy. But still, a little acknowledgment would be nice. A couple sent automated responses saying they weren’t accepting new clients. Finally, one therapist, not Nicole Yee, but someone named Sarah, emailed me back and we set up a free 15-minute phone consultation.
The consultation was…awkward. I rambled, she asked clarifying questions, I stumbled over my words. But hey, at least she listened. We scheduled an actual session. Showed up, spilled my guts for an hour, paid a ridiculous amount of money, and walked out feeling…slightly less terrible. It was a start.
So, did I find Nicole Yee? Nope. But did I find a therapist in San Francisco? Eventually, yes. The process was a pain, but honestly, worth it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another session to get to. My existential dread isn’t going to solve itself.
