Today we’d like to introduce you to Veronna Dizon.
Hi Veronna, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
My story begins in the late 80s as a Filipina teen growing up in Southern California and learning to juggle two worlds. As one of five kids in a bustling home, let’s just say there was never a dull moment. Lively and often chaotic—it meant a mix of silly times, strong personalities, and misunderstandings and tears. The best moments naturally, were often spent with friends who felt like family, gathered around food and tradition. Big parties always meant a Zojirushi full of steaming white rice, a pot of adobo, and trays of lumpia and pancit. You could also always count on there being loud music, laughter, and someone—usually my dad—singing karaoke late into the night. At the heart of these events were my parents, first-generation immigrants who left their families behind, carrying the weight of self-sacrifice while attempting to build community. Through stories of hardship and constant reminders about respect, faith, and prayer, they made sure we never forgot what they gave up for us. For my generation, though, that weight frequently led to confusion and conflict – for wanting us to excel in school often meant assimilating, but yet, there was still this expectation to uphold our culture which often were misaligned. As a teen, I carried a deep sense of shame, though I later realized my siblings, cousins, and friends had their own struggles too. There was plenty of joy, but the dark moments in my life often obscured it. Shame, or hiya, made it hard to talk about our problems, and for my family, that silence eventually gave way to a period marked by suicidality, substance use, and the longing to escape when words failed us.
When I look back now, I can see how so many of my choices were really just me trying to hide from shame. During times of crisis, I grappled with being a responsible older sibling, all while just wanting to feel like a normal teen. I threw myself into independent study, then transferred schools, hoping for a fresh start, but that was not the case. Instead, I was the new girl, who found herself bullied; and it made me feel even more alone than before. It wasn’t until I stumbled into a Psychology class with a beloved teacher that I began to see how behavior, mental health, and culture intertwine—new lenses that finally helped me make sense of my world and my struggles. And you know, from thereon and with every step, my purpose became clear. I went on to earn my degree in Psychology from UCSD, and my Master’s in Social Work from SDSU. My first job was as a Public Assistance Worker before moving into a social worker role at Child Welfare Services. Soon after, I soon found myself drawn to medical social work at Sharp Mary Birch Hospital and eventually, Sharp Chula Vista and Grossmont. I was also raising two young boys around that time, so not unlike other parents, I scaled back here and there when life called for it.
After taking a break due to a colorful chapter in my life, I bounced around doing some per diem social work in hospitals before landing a full time job as a Military and Family Life Counselor. And honestly, that role was pivotal. The stories told really stayed with me, and because I grew up as a Navy brat and the child of immigrant parents, I could relate to what they were going through. It soon clicked that my life experiences weren’t something I needed to separate from my work—they could enhance it and make me a better counselor; and that’s really when I started thinking seriously about building my own practice one day.
By 2019, I was all in—I got my business license and started laying the groundwork for creating something of my own. And then, 2020 hit – need I say more? —Those plans came to a screeching halt. At the time, I was back to medical social work, but this time at Scripps Mercy Chula Vista, where the demands of COVID quickly took over. Those years were some of the hardest, traumatic and exhausting of my career, but deeply humbling. I had the privilege of working alongside San Diego’s first responders, physicians, nurses, and healthcare workers in an unprecedented time of need—a chapter none of us will ever forget.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Has it been a smooth road? Definitely not. The path to becoming a licensed therapist and building my own private practice has been full of twists and turns. Honestly, ever since graduating from college, I had dreamed about becoming a therapist and having my own business, but I had no idea how windy and bumpy that road would be. After finishing my MSW, I quickly sought out getting licensed—3000 hours of clinical supervision, more coursework, and a tough two-part exam. At the time, my eagerness to get licensed was met with little support from my employer; and soon after, I was navigating motherhood. Suddenly, it felt too overwhelming and I pressed pause; and what I thought would just be a “short break” stretched longer as I shifted to part-time work to raise my two young kids. Eventually, with some reframing and a lot of persistence, I did it – taking much longer than expected, but finally licensed and one step closer to the path I had imagined years before.
But of course, life has a funny way of throwing us curveballs. By this time, my school-aged kids were more independent and seemingly well-adjusted, so I felt ready to step back into full-time work—only life had other plans. Each of them faced serious health challenges –a cancer diagnosis for one and for the other, brief though serious, health issues that called for stepping back and focusing on their needs and care. Those were some difficult and scary years of my life. I’m able to look at it differently now. These struggles taught both me and my family to grow in ways no classroom or training ever could, to keep going and to keep fighting even when life feels unbearable. It shaped not only my career path but the way I show up as a parent and a therapist—as a real, grounded, compassionate human being who gets it– Life isn’t always smooth, but healing and growth are always possible.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I like to say I’m a Licensed Clinical Social Worker that wears a few hats, currently splitting my time working for Spring Health, a progressive and comprehensive EAP company, while running my small, but mighty private practice, Good Life Counseling & Wellness, based in San Diego County’s South Bay. I see clients in person in Eastlake Chula Vista, while offering therapy virtually for residents of California, Massachusetts and New York. In my practice, I support people struggling with anxiety or coping with life transitions. I’ve also been a certified Perinatal Mental Health Professional since 2020, which in essence, means a big passion of mine is supporting parents and families adjusting to parenthood. I also currently serve on the board of the Postpartum Health Alliance (PHA) here in San Diego to help spread awareness about maternal mental health ensuring families know help is available and they’re not alone. This year marks my fifth year in private practice; and what I’m thankful for is being able to ride the waves that have come along with it – balancing the business while holding onto personal and family values. Working for Spring Health has been a big part of that journey, opening the doors for me to become licensed in New York (which isn’t easy). It’s also given me a steady stream of clients and solid benefits that help to make this work sustainable.
I have to say, most of all, I feel honored to serve a really diverse range of clients—new and hopeful parents, LGBTQ+ folx, APIDA and BIPOC communities. For many of these communities, seeking therapy can feel intimidating, whether it centers around coming out, navigating cultural pressures, or even just reaching out for the very first time. There was a time when there were few therapists of color and no one looked like us or even acknowledged how culture shaped our experience. So I’ve carried that with me today, seeing my role as a bridge between culture and therapy. I pride myself on helping clients process their feelings in a safe space, encouraging them to share their stories as they might initially see it, exploring the cultural aspects that need unpacking and honoring the ones that feel most authentic to them. I think what sets me apart from others is the depth of my professional experience along with my life story. The combination of experience has lent to what I believe translates to a well-rounded and astute clinician that is professional, personable and able to honor individuality conveying sincere empathy and compassion. Last but definitely not least, I can’t tell this story without saying I’m most proud of having the support and love of my family. They’ve never stopped cheering me on in this process, walking this journey of life’s hardships together. We undoubtedly stumble, but we continue growing and learning all the life skills — breaking through feelings of guilt and shame, being firm but kind in asserting our feelings, needs, while acknowledging and respecting our differences. .
Are there any important lessons you’ve learned that you can share with us?
If there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s that change is never easy. The decision to step away from a long and secure career in medical social work to focus on being a therapist was scary, messy and uncomfortable. And I learned along the way that change—whether in life, love, or work—can stir up a lot of grief and uncertainty. It can leave you overwhelmed and in a state of self-doubt, comparing yourself to others or wondering if you’re good enough and have what it takes to make it. I’ve learned how easy it is to get stuck there.What’s helped me most to move forward is giving back, finding meaning in volunteering as a Make-A-Wish granter and serving on the board of the PHA here in San Diego. Both roles have shown me that giving back, not only supports families in need, but helps us grow and move through our challenges. I guess you could say that it was from these life lessons that Good Life Counseling was formed and aptly named on a simple premise: that each and every one of us is worthy of a good life. To me, a “good life” doesn’t mean perfect. It means finding contentment, feeling good enough, hopefully great, on most days, and learning to carry both the joy and the struggles that make us human. As I’ve shared, I know how easy it is to get caught up in the struggle-it’s real as they say. Add to that, society and social media’s pull on what others think our lives “should” look like. But when we let go of all that and start to accept ourselves and the ups and downs as simply a part of life, we discover healthier ways to cope and carry on.
Growing up Filipino in the 80s, I know now our stories were simply a mix of joy, laughter, but sometimes silence and shame. For a long time, I carried around that shame reluctant to tell my story, but through my own therapy with a warm, caring Filipino therapist—I came to appreciate the experience, the lessons learned, and continue to embrace the strength my culture instills me. That’s something I hope to continue doing in the work I do as a licensed clinical social worker and therapist -offering clients a sanctuary where they feel secure enough to embark on their healing journey, focus on mindfulness, self-compassion and overall wellness!! where they can then feel empowered to reshape their own personal narrative and craft their own fulfilling yet authentic story.
Pricing:
- $150-175 per 45-60 minute session
- In Network with several CA & MA insurances
Contact Info:
- Website: www.goodlifelcsw.com
- Instagram: @goodlifelcsw
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/veronnadizonlcsw/
