sanjoni
That's me - Sanjoni.
I’m a RCI-registered clinical psychologist practising in India. My academic path began with a Bachelor's in Psychology (Hons.) from Delhi University, followed by a Master’s in Clinical Psychology from Christ University and an M.Phil. in Clinical Psychology from Amity University.
In between, and long after, I kept learning by doing. I worked with children and adolescents in school systems, and later with adults in clinical, university, and hospital settings—places like South Asian University, Beautiful Mind Clinic, Orchids (a government resource centre), and a project at AIIMS, Delhi. Alongside this were many internships in hospital settings, woven into my formal training. But my real education began when I stopped feeling at home in fixed roles.
When adulting kicked in—and my inner child began yearning for freedom—I chose to step away from full-time employment. I wasn’t satisfied. Structured work felt misaligned, and so I began meeting with fellow practitioners, sitting in supervision (after carefully choosing who I wanted to learn with), and beginning my own process of unlearning. I trained in EMDR, wrapped up psychodynamic short-term work, and began ongoing supervision with an integrative psychotherapist.
Slowly, I started to make space for a practice that felt like mine—shaped by real conversations, co-created policies, and relationships that honoured both my needs and those of my clients. That path now includes long-term training in trauma-focused and psychodynamic approaches, personal therapy, group supervision, reading circles, pauses, doubts, and returns.
I’m curious about building a practice that offers care to women and children—spaces that are warm, boundaried, and quietly radical. And working with men has taught me how often they, too, struggle to name what they’ve been taught to comply with—just like women and children. I often imagine a room that includes a loving dog, a few too many books, and the kind of silence that doesn’t rush to fill itself.
This is where I find myself today—committed to a practice that’s alive, reflective, and imperfectly honest.
Thanks for arriving here and reading.
In the room: Practice
I offer both virtual and in-person sessions for adolescents and adults. Our first meeting is a space of mutual introduction—where we begin to sense how we might work together. I’ll take some notes, share a few reflections, and walk you through the policies that hold the practice. We’ll also speak about what therapy could look and feel like, for you and us. Each session is 50 minutes long—something I arrived at after trying different formats and tuning in to what sustains my attention, presence, and care. I’m deeply curious about the emotional tones my clients evoke in me, and often, that connection starts forming well before we meet in the room. It shapes how I listen, how I imagine holding space for you, and how I think about the work we may do together. Much of my interest lies in how childhood experiences continue to speak through us—the ways you thought about your parents, what you tried to show them, and what still lingers unspoken. Often, our work turns gently toward the body—toward learning how to be with it, how to listen to it, and how to use it as an anchor when words feel far. We may ask: What could safety, trust, commitment, and continuity look like between us? What happens when we don’t have the answers yet? In this space, I keep learning—about how we show up in relationships, how we move through moods, and how we hold emotions that feel too much or too quiet. Therapy, for me, is not a fixed method. It’s a shared inquiry into becoming more alive to ourselves. We'll create structures that work for us and re-visit them every now and then, especially when working with adolescents and their adults.
On the paper : Inquiry
I write to understand—not just the world, but also myself. Whether it’s a note from the therapy room, a conversation with a stranger, or a sentence that lingers from something I read, writing becomes a way to return and reflect. I’m drawn to books that soothe without simplifying—especially the works of Irvin Yalom, Adam Phillips, and Donald Winnicott. Their reflections help me hold complexity with softness. Often, their words sit beside me as I make sense of my own therapeutic encounters and inner states. My own writing tends to explore support, rupture, and the slow reworking of beliefs—both personal and systemic—that shape how we understand healing. I’m curious about how therapy can be both a quiet rebellion and a gentle return to ourselves. In more formal settings, my academic research orbits around emotional dysregulation and the intricacies of personality structures. That work continues to evolve alongside the relationships I hold in the therapy room, where theory meets breath, pause, and story.
Across the table: Dialogue
I love to collaborate and co-create. For me, shared work is often where new ideas are born, stretched, and made real. In the past, I’ve facilitated support groups for early-career therapists, attended ongoing peer supervision circles, and signed up—often eagerly—for workshops and webinars where I can both learn and teach. These spaces have kept me grounded in community, accountability, and curiosity. I’ve also had the opportunity to work with artists, educators, and mental health professionals to design and deliver workshops across schools, universities, and multinational organizations. These collaborations often sit at the intersection of mental health, learning, and creativity—each shaped by the people who come into the room. I’m curious, open, and always learning. If you have something in mind, feel free to reach out.