The Jeong Center

College is supposed to be the best years of your life, which makes it harder to say out loud when it doesn't feel that way. Whether it's anxiety that won't quit, a low-grade numbness you can't explain, pressure to perform that's become suffocating, or the unsettling sense that you're on a path someone else chose for you, these aren't things you should just push through. They're worth understanding.

I'm a Harvard-trained psychiatrist who does both medication management and in-depth psychotherapy. With me, you're not bouncing between a prescriber you see for fifteen minutes and a therapist who doesn't know what you're taking. I work with the whole picture. That means we talk. Really talk. About what's going on, what's underneath it, and what you actually want (not just what looks good on a transcript).

My style is warm but direct. I'm not going to sit silently and wait for you to fill the space, and I'm not going to hand you a worksheet and call it therapy. I pay attention to what you need: sometimes that's a push, sometimes it's room to breathe, sometimes it's someone who will tell you the thing no one else has said yet. I also get the world you live in — gaming, internet culture, the specific weirdness of building an identity when everyone's performing theirs online. You don't have to explain that part.

I'm also an Asian American psychiatrist with a background in law. I founded The Jeong Center around a Korean concept — jeong (정) — the deep bond that forms when two people share real time and presence together. I have particular experience working with AAPI students, third-culture identity, and the weight of intergenerational expectations. Offices in Brookline and Downtown Boston. Telehealth available.