Why do I do what I do?

Why do I care for you?

Why do I want you to be you, and for me to be me?

I am humanistic through and through. My values are deeply ingrained in how I show up in the world. I don’t feel like I chose them — my moral compass was already set. I didn’t need religion, teachers, or laws to tell me how to behave or how to treat the living.

I’m sure my parents gently coaxed me along the way, but ultimately, I was born to nurture. To notice. To give a shit.

I am most content when those around me are comfortable. That doesn’t mean you need to be happy, or expressive, or “okay” in my presence. It simply means you feel safe. Safe enough to be as you are. Safe enough for your suffering to soften, even slightly.

With some people, that sense of safety arrives quickly. You know those moments — with loved ones or even strangers — where energy seems to melt into one shared space. It feels homely. Warm.

With others, it takes time. Hours. Weeks. Sometimes years.

There is one friend I absolutely adore — and knew I adored from the first moment I met them — who took three whole years to truly warm to me. I knew I had to go slowly, to not push my excited energy onto them. I waited patiently. Gently. And it paid off. Some relationships need time. They need trust.

This is how I show up in my studio space with each new client.

Some people arrive and immediately soften. They open their hearts. They melt into the chair. They absorb the relief of touch through their sensitive little feet.

Others — those carrying heavy stress, protectiveness, or a deep sense of low-ness — take longer to settle. And those are the ones who remind me of the attentive skills I was born with.

Not because I am what everyone needs — but because everyone deserves equal care.

Whether someone comes to talk, to be held in silence, or to receive touch, I offer respect, comfort, and a space where you are accepted exactly as you are.

It feels utterly magical when I notice you relax. When the energy shifts, like a misty cloud ascending. When you feel safe enough to meet my eyes — and safe enough to notice your distractions without judgment.

The magic is in you letting me in. And that’s a two-way tango — one I am willing to host, and be led by.

Relationships are a beautiful thing. A wondrous, living entity waiting to be felt and understood. And that, to me, is all therapy really is.

Being in contact.

Feeling safe.

Being accepted.

The rest works itself out.

Faye Russell

Holistic Therapist

Reflexologist - Counsellor - Gardener