About Ashton

If you're a first responder, you already know how to carry heavy things. It's the job. You show up, you handle it, you go back out. What nobody trains you for is what to do when the calls start following you home, when sleep gets thin, when the people you love get the worn-down version of you.

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That's the work I do. I help first responders put some of the weight down.

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I didn't find this niche. It found me.

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After several years in community mental health, I landed at a group practice that volun-told me to work with first responders. I'll be honest, at first I was intimidated. I thought, "my God, these people are heroes, they don't want any business talking to me!"

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Then I was proven wrong, and two things became clear.

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The first is that almost nobody, including the responders themselves, realizes how much trauma the job exposes them to. It accumulates quietly, call after call, until it all hits them at once like the straw that broke the camel's back.

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The second thing surprised me. So many of the people I'd worked with in the past carried a kind of victim mentality.  First responders are the opposite. They've got more of a hero complex, honestly, and I say that out of so much love. By the time one of them is sitting across from me, they're usually ready to do the work. The ones who walk through my door are the brave ones, the people with the courage to turn and face what they've seen instead of running from it. Or at least they're ready to start trying.
 

That's a privilege I don't take lightly. Being trusted with someone's innermost self, especially someone who spends their life being the strong one for everyone else, is the greatest honor of this work.

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I've spent years learning this world so I can meet them well in it. I'm trained in EMDR, which I've seen make a tangible difference, helping responders process what they've carried so they can get back out there and do what they were made for. I'm also an alumna of the Mile in Our Boots Clinician's Academy, have pursued specialized training in first responder mental health, and spent time on ride-alongs as well as sit-alongs with dispatch to understand the job from as close as an outsider can get.

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I'm not a first responder, and I'd never pretend to know exactly what it's like to be in your boots.  But I know the weight it leaves behind, and I've spent years sitting with the people who carry it. You won't have to teach me the culture. You'll get someone who respects it, and who won't flinch at what you bring.

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If you're ready, or even just wondering, I'd be honored to hear from you.