About Emily

A person with tattoos standing in front of an old wooden door and a textured pink wall with peeling paint, casting shadows on the wall in Mexico.

Most photos on my website are credited to my husband, Mark.

I am an LCSW in the state of Texas with nearly a decade of experience in the social work field. I worked with the aging population as a case manager and service coordinator, and completed my MSW practicum at a residential treatment center for teenagers in foster care. I’ve been a private practice therapist for the past few years.

I recognize that shared identit(ies) might be an important factor in choosing a therapist. I am a gender non-conforming white Latine of the Honduran diaspora who has lived with chronic illness. I was raised in Texas, listening to José José and Patsy Cline, eating sopa de frijoles and chicken fried steak. I am an activist and take particular interest in abolition and immigration/migration justice.

I grew up hearing stories about my mom’s work as a social worker in Honduras. As a teenager, my mom invited me to join a medical brigade in the outskirts of Tegucigalpa to provide medical care to impoverished communities. This experience awakened my social conscience and desire to work in direct service.

As a social worker, I am a strong advocate and feel passionately about uplifting voices that are often repressed. I became a therapist because I find so much meaning in human connection and the creative ways we heal ourselves and our communities. I know from personal experience how life changing embodied healing can be. Facilitating and witnessing this transformation in others is incredibly rewarding.

I’ve lived in Austin for over ten years enjoying the hill country and large bodies of water. Outside of the therapy room, you might find me gabbing with my friends, thrifting and antiquing, politically organizing with other healers, reading and writing, practicing tarot, or watching horror movies with my spouse and our cats!

A small town square with cobblestone streets, a white building with a brown door, large trees, and three people sitting on a bench under the trees, with one person standing nearby. The street is lined with small planters, street lamps, and other colorful buildings in the background.

Education, Licenses, & More

  • BA in Sociology, University of Texas at Austin

    MSW, University of Houston

  • Licensed Clinical Social Worker #110394

  • Intro to Parts Work Through an IFS Lens

    Parts Work for Memory Reconsolidation

    Trust Based Relational Interventions (TBRI)

    EMDR Trained

About Invisible Steel Counseling

Young girl in a green and white basketball uniform holding an orange Wilson basketball, smiling, against a gray textured background.

Invisible Steel Counseling, PLLC

est. October 2025

Invisible steel has been a mantra for me since I was 13 years old.

This was when I first read A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, a coming-of-age novel by Betty Smith about the Nolan family living in a Williamsburg tenement in the 1900’s from the perspective of the daughter, Francie. We follow Francie throughout her childhood as she lives in poverty, faces intergenerational trauma, and contends with gender violence and gender roles. She relies on reading and her imagination as her temporary escape.

Smith describes the Nolan women as being made of “thin invisible steel”—while these women appear to be fragile, they are strong and are the glue that holds the family together. Francie is faced with hardship, but she has the ability to find the tools within and around her to live a fulfilling life full of magic, whimsy, and wonder (hence the title).

Like Francie, I was also figuring out how to navigate a world filled with difficult obstacles; and, like Francie, I was able to use books, story-telling, and my self-protective invisible steel as aids to help me get through it all. Francie’s character and her story helped me perceive myself as resourceful and make sense of my own experiences as an adolescent, unraveling the truths of my inner world and the realities of the real world.

Trauma leaves us feeling out of touch with ourselves and our innate wisdom. I hope to guide you in discovering your own invisible steel; your own resilience and compassion for yourself and the many parts of you that deserve to be nurtured, held, and celebrated.

Get in Touch!