Doors of Growth 112

I’ve always been a fighter—first in my family to graduate high school, pushing through undiagnosed autism, ADHD, and dyslexia to earn counseling licenses in Idaho, South Carolina, Colorado, and New Jersey (NJ licenses made inactive at my request).

When my brother, David (Scott) Ogilvie, died in 2015, his enduring light—the hero who lifted me—ignited a vow. That vow became Doors of Growth, my solo therapy practice in New Jersey, where I partnered with clients in bold, authentic healing. Their growth fueled mine, and together, we shaped its soul. I dreamed of staying for decades, meeting their children and grandchildren. But the weight became too much.

I tried to leave gracefully, aiming for Colorado—to spare those I loved. But two medical traumas struck first. I found myself in a wheelchair, facing total collapse: bankruptcy, violence, terror, and a raw reawakening of the CPTSD I had long managed.

Displaced and homeless in South Carolina, clarity broke through the haze: I was autistic. The grit that got me through—hyperfocus, pattern recognition, relentless drive—was neurodivergence. So was the overwhelm I’d endured in silence. In that darkness, my estranged mother stepped in with unexpected grace, offering help during the most traumatic and grief-filled season of my life. My father's words of, "Never Give Up" echoing in my head.

The Blacksburg Church of God and their pastor embraced me with faith and family. Jason, from Clearview Girls Academy, carried me to Idaho to heal. There, Harvest Valley Worship Center in Sandpoint became my refuge—their presence and prayers a lifeline. First responders, risking their lives and offering their words, lit my path. Supporting them became part of Doors of Growth’s evolving soul.

In Idaho, I found breath—and home. The clients I serve here mirror what I cherish most: co-creating healing in safe, authentic relationship. Doors of Growth 112 was rekindled—not as a shadow of its New Jersey chapter, where I gave everything until I broke—but as a joyful new beginning.

I am happy to have a home in Idaho and grateful for their love. My roots remain with those former clients in New Jersey, who had my best interests at heart just as I had theirs. I rebuild to honor them. I rebuild for my brother, for those lost to addiction, and for survivors of sexual assault. Their light lives on in every session.

The past still lingers—echoes of trauma, of a haunting yet unresolved decade—but my fight has softened. My strength now blooms quietly. Doors of Growth 112 is my hero’s rebirth: an autistic woman’s dream reshaped, a healer’s heart reclaimed, a sister’s tribute restored. This chapter is held by my mother’s grace, the unwavering love of church families in South Carolina and Idaho, the grit of first responders, the kindness of neighbors and my landlord, and the steady spark of clients who remind me why I rise.

Doors of Growth 112 isn't just my practice—it's a community of resilience, authenticity, and sacred healing. If you’re seeking a space to be seen, heard, and known, you’re not alone. I’d be honored to walk with you.