Meet Michelle

I Didn't Exactly Take the Direct Route Here

Before becoming a therapist, I spent 15 years as a hairstylist in Los Angeles. And for a long time, beauty meant much more to me than hair.

I became interested in beauty partly because I knew what it felt like to believe that looking the “right” way could determine whether you belonged. I learned the rules of conventional beauty pretty well. Eventually, though, I became much more interested in what happened when people stopped trying to follow them.

Behind the chair, I became especially interested in femininity and natural texture. Some of my favorite moments weren't about creating a dramatic transformation. They were helping someone see that something they'd spent years trying to correct, hide, straighten, or make more acceptable could actually be part of what made them beautiful. It took me longer to realize I was learning some of the same lessons myself.

Over time, the conversations became more interesting to me than the hair. I wanted to hear about the divorce. The career change. The identity crisis. The thing you hadn't told anyone else. The life you secretly wanted but weren't sure you were allowed to have. I became fascinated by what happens when people stop performing the life they're supposed to want and start trying to figure out what actually belongs to them.

My path after hair wasn't particularly straight either. I traveled, became interested in wildlife conservation, studied GIS, worked in research, and eventually went back to graduate school for social work. I actually entered graduate school expecting to stay closer to the macro side of social work. Then the clinical classes kept pulling me in.

Eventually, I realized the part I'd loved most about being behind the chair was still there:

One person, one conversation, and the privilege of being trusted with someone's real story.

Only now, we get to go further underneath.

Maybe I've Been Doing the Same Work All Along

The tools are obviously different now, but one of the questions underneath my work hasn't changed very much:

Who are you when you're not trying to become who you think you're supposed to be?

My own life has required me to wrestle with that question too.

Changing careers, getting divorced, embracing my queerness, and building a life outside some of the milestones I once associated with “doing well” forced me to reconsider how much of my identity came from what looked successful from the outside. There's freedom in that. There's also grief, uncertainty, and the occasional identity crisis. That's probably one reason I'm drawn to people who are questioning things—relationships, sexuality, careers, bodies, identities, expectations, or entire versions of themselves.

I'm less interested in helping you win at someone else's version of life and much more interested in helping you figure out what makes yours feel like your own.

What I'm Actually Like in the Room

I'm pretty much the same person in session as I am in the outside world (within professional boundaries of course).

I'm animated and expressive. We'll probably laugh sometimes. If you tell me something genuinely shocking, my face may confirm that yes, that was in fact shocking. Sex doesn't make me uncomfortable. Neither do unconventional relationships, complicated feelings, contradictions, mistakes, shame, identity questions, or things you're worried you're “not supposed” to think. You don't have to make yourself more palatable before telling me the truth.

I'm also extremely curious. I want to know why something happens. Where did this pattern come from? What happens right before it? What are you feeling that you haven't named yet? What does this remind you of? What are you afraid would happen if you responded differently? We'll use metaphor. We'll slow things down. We'll pull complicated situations apart into smaller pieces. I'll explain concepts when understanding what's happening might make it feel less mysterious. Sometimes I'll recommend a book, send you a resource, teach you a skill, or give you something to experiment with between sessions.

Therapy can be deep without being solemn all the time. And person-centered doesn't mean I'm going to pretend I don't notice what I'm noticing. If you tell me you desperately want one thing while repeatedly doing something that moves you in the opposite direction, I'm probably going to ask about it.

“Could both of those things be true?”

“What do you think would happen if you actually said that?”

“You've said you want this to change, but I've noticed something seems to happen whenever you get close to changing it. What do you think is going on there?”

Now that we can see it, what choices do you have?

I'm not putting those observations on the table because I secretly know your life better than you do. I'm putting them there so we can examine them together. And you're allowed to tell me I'm wrong. Actually, I want you to. Therapy shouldn't require you to agree with me in order to stay connected.

My foundation is attachment-based and person-centered, and I draw heavily from Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), psychoeducation, and relationship-focused approaches. But I'm less interested in collecting modalities than I am in figuring out what helps this particular person understand themselves and do something differently. Understanding why a pattern developed can help us have self-compassion for why it's there. Then comes another question:

You Don't Have to Be Easy to Keep

A lot of people learn, somewhere along the way, that staying connected to other people requires some editing.

Don't be too needy. Too emotional. Too angry. Too weird.

Don't disappoint anyone. Don't disagree. Don't ask for too much. Figure out which version of yourself keeps everyone comfortable and be that.

Then therapy asks you to walk into a room and do practically the opposite.

Tell the truth. Notice what you feel. Ask for what you need. Admit what you're ashamed of. Disagree. Take a risk. Let another person actually see you.

That can be terrifying. One of the things I value most about attachment-based therapy is the opportunity to experience a relationship where you don't have to perform perfectly to remain connected. You can disagree with me. Get embarrassed. Make a mistake. Tell me you didn't do the homework. Make a choice you regret. Bring in something you're afraid will change how I see you. And I will still see you as a whole, complex person experiencing what it means to be human.

Over time, my hope is that the safety you experience in therapy becomes something you can increasingly create for yourself.

A safe place to attach while you learn how to become a safer place for yourself.

Who Tends to Find Me

A lot of the people who find their way into my practice have spent some portion of their lives feeling a little outside the expected script. Many are queer, neurodivergent, creative, unconventional, questioning something they thought they'd already figured out—or some combination of the above.

You might be exploring LGBTQ+ identity or queerness, trying to understand your ADHD or neurodivergence, navigating polyamory or ethical non-monogamy, struggling with eating or body image, or rebuilding after a divorce or significant relationship transition.

Or you may not fit neatly into any of those categories. And you don't need to. I'm more interested in the person than the box.

Eventually,

I Want You to Trust Yourself

Therapy isn't supposed to make you dependent on having a therapist.

I want you to leave with something you can take with you. I want you to know yourself well enough to recognize what feels right for you—even when someone else would choose differently. To trust your gut without assuming every uncomfortable feeling means you're making the wrong decision. To know your values and your strengths. To accept the parts of yourself that aren't problems to fix. To advocate for yourself and ask for help when you need it. I want you to be able to screw up without turning the mistake into evidence that there's something fundamentally wrong with you. To recognize what you can change, accept what you can't, and have the courage to try again when something doesn't work.

And when the next hard thing happens—and eventually, something will—to be armed with some strategies that help you navigate it..

I want you to trust that you'll be able to find your way through.

Training & Credentials

Michelle Hansen, MSW, LSW
Licensed Social Worker, Colorado

Master of Social Work
University of Denver

Clinical Supervision
Becky Zal-Sanchez, LCSW
CSW.09923198

Additional Training & Areas of Study

Discernment Counseling
Divorce Recovery / Rebuilders
HAES-Informed and Weight-Inclusive Care
Attachment- and Emotionally-Focused Therapy (EFT)

I also offer limited walking and hiking therapy in the Denver area

Think We Might Get Along?

You don't have to figure out whether I'm “the one” based on a website.

That's what the consultation is for.

Come with questions, uncertainty, a meticulously organized explanation of what's happening, or absolutely no idea how to explain it yet.

Not sure whether what you're looking for fits my practice? Email me.

© 2026. All rights reserved.

Michelle Hansen, MSW, LSW
Colorado Licensed Social Worker
Clinical supervision: Becky Zal-Sanchez, LCSW (CSW.09923198)
Specialized training in Discernment Counseling and divorce recovery