Hi, I’m Bethany Huffman.
As a counselor, I believe in working with the HUMAN first. I take care to develop a healthy therapeutic relationship and get to know your individual story and how it’s impacted you as a basis for all therapy. Because the relationship with the therapist is the most important indicator of meeting one’s therapeutic goals, I am consistent in developing the relationship throughout my time with an individual.
I have a passion for educating myself and my clients on up-to-date information in the field of trauma, dissociation, and complex attachment wounds. I have passion for keeping up with the most up-to-date evidence-based treatments for my clients, which is why I am fully trained in EMDR, Structural Dissociation (AKA “parts work”–I am also familiar with IFS), therapeutic yoga, and attachment theories. I have understanding and interest in somatic therapies and psychedelic-assisted therapy as well. I find that an eclectic use of these modalities, catered to the individual I’m getting to know, is the best way to make progress.
I myself am a neurodiverse, queer person who has deconstructed from high control religion. I have experience working with adults with religious trauma, LGBTQIA+ folks and those who experience other marginalized identities, neurodiversity, and those with attachment trauma (foster, adoption, and dysfunctional households).
Why “lemon tree”?
The name is inspired by a Post Malone song called “Lemon Tree”. This song plays off the well-known saying, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." But Post takes it a step further, singing:
Looking 'round and all I see is people happy with what they’re given. Life is pretty sweet, I’m told—I guess I’m just shit outta luck, growing a lemon tree. I’m gonna burn it down, and grow me somethin’ better.
And with a twang, he hits us with that satisfying "betterrr." This song resonates deeply with me because it captures the rage, pain, and determination it takes to undo a lifetime—or even generations—of trauma.
Trauma therapy isn’t always like laughing while squeezing lemons for a refreshing drink. It’s not the simple act of making the best of a difficult situation; it’s about confronting the deeper pain—symbolized by that "lemon tree"—and deciding to let go that which is causing you this pain. Sometimes, healing feels more like burning down what no longer serves you and allowing space for something new to grow. There’s grief in that, of course, along with feelings of anger, loss, and even a sense of betrayal.
Living in Phoenix, I’ve connected with the symbolism of the mythical phoenix—a bird reborn, rising from the ashes, stronger and more powerful. In many ways, that’s what healing feels like. It’s about growing something better. Maybe that looks like rising from the ashes of the life that kept you trapped. Maybe it’s tilling the soil of the burnt lemon tree and planting seeds to grow your own tropical jungle. Here’s where the sense of calm, creativity, courage, and connection come.
The beauty is, whatever you create after the fire, it’s yours. No longer defined by the pain or the patterns of the past, but by your vision of what life can be. It’s about moving forward with intention, rather than clinging to what’s familiar but harmful.
There’s a time to step away from what isn’t working, to acknowledge the toll it’s taken, and to embrace change. It’s a quiet revolution of sorts, where anger becomes the fuel for a life that honors your core self—not a version of you shaped by the past or by what others expected you to be.
As someone who has been on this journey—and is still on it—I’m honored to join you in the unknown. We are warriors and revolutionaries in breaking harmful generational patterns that permeate our society.