We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Vanessa Marin Sanford. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Vanessa Marin below.

Vanessa Marin, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Have you ever had an amazing boss, mentor or leader leading you? Can you us a story or anecdote that helps illustrate why this person was such a great leader and the impact they had on you or their team?

When I think of this topic, I immediately turn to the worst boss’s I have ever had. It helps me identify what mud I have experienced in leadership to honor the lotus flower moments. I have been told while walking outside to another part of campus with expensive equipment at night to yell to any attackers, “I have AIDS!” as a way to defend myself. I have been told when asking for support after having nightmares and feeling deeply impacted by stories of sexual abuse I heard daily in my work, this is the job I signed up for and just need to deal with it. I have been told I am expected to work 60 hours or more a week but will only be paid 40 hours.

I smile with delight as I reflect on my former boss, Pam Newton. She was the director for the Betty Ford Five Star Kids program in Dallas. We held 3 day psychoeducational groups for children and their families focusing on addiction recovery. We were not focused on diagnosing or pathologizing pain, we prioritized humanity and played a lot. This phenomenal program has since moved to Minnesota and is also in California at the Betty Ford Center. As a welcoming gift, she made crafty toolboxes. These tools represented what she expected from me and how she would support me with a huge slice of humor. One tool she gave was large underwear. It had my name decorated on the back saying, “Vanessa, sometimes you have to wear your big girl panties and just deal with it”. When I pulled these out, I cried laughing hysterically. Another boss told me the same thing, to just deal with it, but with Pam, she didn’t just have it written on underwear. She created a culture in small and ordinary moments of how to process these hard stories together, how to set boundaries, and how to take time to play and rest and connect. I knew “dealing with it” meant I could ask for help, get outside help when needed, and have a community to lean on. I still have my toolbox almost 20 years later.

Working with Pam felt like it was the first time I had the freedom to try out diverse creative ideas. It was radically different from any other job as we traveled all over DFW to serve in hospitals and schools to children loving someone with addiction and helping them learn it isn’t their fault or their job to fix. On days we were not in group, we would be at the office strategizing, laughing, resting, and growing. We were encouraged to explore other organizations and I joined the Texas Alliance for Drug Endangered Children and spoke around the state on the impact of addiction on children. We also held a yearly reunion, called Reunion Roundup, with any family who participated in our groups. I volunteered many years after moving on from this work until they moved to another state. Pam was flexible and very transparent. I never had to guess where I stood with her. Pam was direct and showed me you can lead with high integrity and also allow a culture of play and humor. Working with families struggling and suffering from addiction is heartbreaking work. Stories I heard often brought me to tears. My tears were welcomed. My concerns were believed. When I messed up, I was given clear feedback and I had room to practice and develop. Our team bonded together outside of work and still have friendships with my coworkers today. Pam was vulnerable and trusted us with her own stories too.

Pam introduced me to Brené Brown’s work which I ended up getting certified in her research and has had a profound impact on how I provide care. Brené Brown, a Texas researcher of vulnerability, shame, and leadership, wrote a book called Dare to Lead. She and her team have studied 16 different themes of leadership and has them in 2 categories: Armored versus Daring leadership. (pp.76-77) A few of Pam’s Daring leadership that gives me pride to call her the best boss I ever had.

1. Pam practiced gratitude and celebrated milestones and victories instead of working from scarcity and squandering opportunities for joy and recognition.

2. She modeled being a learner and getting it right versus being a knower and being right.

3. My favorite of Pam’s was modeling and supporting rest, play and recovery instead of rewarding exhaustion as a status symbol and attaching productivity to self-worth.

The more room she allowed for me, the harder I wanted to work and learn and show up and do my best. I knew she cared about me, still cares about me and that connection was the foundation to her success. I texted her to let her know I am writing about her in this article. She responded immediately and was so kind and supportive and affirming. She still cares even though we have not worked together since 2007. That’s a leader. Thank you Pam. The Lotus Flower Leader. I will forever be grateful for you.

Vanessa Marin, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I don’t have a linear story as how I landed into the mental health field. Mine is more windy, with steps off beaten paths, and plot twists. I just kept following curiosity and compassion around and letting them lead me to the next adventure. I started out at Children’s Medical Center of Dallas in the inpatient psych unit as a milieu therapist working with patients needing the highest level of care. I then moved into research at UT Southwestern focusing on a grant studying the cortisol levels in adolescents. These both were paid positions. I made $9.50/hour at Children’s and then $12/hour at UT Southwestern. I then did graduate level practicum work for no pay but earned hours towards graduation in trailers outside of Dallas ISD schools to provide counseling to students as well as Children’s Medical Center of Dallas outpatient clinic. I also was part of a pilot study at the Oncology Unit at Parkland Hospital where I was able to sit with patients while they were receiving chemo or updates from doctors on their progress. The thing about my experience of graduate school practicums is I didn’t get paid for a year while I gathered hours. I find this wild to work for hours and know I hold privilege in having a partner able to lead finances during that time. Experience in our field must do better to help those in training also be able to pay bills with a livable income. We scraped by. I started getting paid again after I completed my graduate degree when I was working towards my therapy license hours at the Dallas Children’s Advocacy Center supporting child abuse victims. I also part-timed at Betty Ford 5 Star Kids program, a group providing psychoeducation for kids who love someone with addiction all over DFW. I then progressed to my own private practice and have been there since 2008. I bought my own building in 2015 and provide experiential learning. I have a Yoga room, a sandtray room, a playroom, and an art room. I have a backyard and a nearby park with walking trails. I have art all over my office. It is my hard earned dream come true.

I am committed to dismantling any unrealistic expectations and oppressive messages and encourage clients to use their voice. I explain I am not the expert in their lives and our work together is a collaboration. I share I don’t have a 3 step process to liberation. They have a right to disagree, share feedback, and let me know what isn’t working in real time. I model the importance of actively listening and receive comments with integrity and responsibility. I encourage hard conversations that can repair and empower the practice of care. This takes effort and risk when artificial intimacy and comfortable convenience of avoidance seem easier. There often is an imbalance of power in provider and client relationship. I work to ensure clients do not just hand over their agency and trust to the provider but rather partner with me. When providers spend time listening and asking questions and take time to check on recommendations and encourage the client to share, this builds better care.

I enjoy working with individuals and families. I love offering retreats for organizations to support staff needs. I delight in speaking and writing and finding many different ways to provide care. I incorporate art, animals, nature, music, movement, food, and media in my practice.

Here is my bio:

Vanessa M. Sanford is a bilingual therapist and was awarded the 2007 Texas Mental Health Professional of the Year for Child Advocacy Centers of Texas and has been included in educational films bringing awareness to child abuse. Vanessa is Licensed Professional Counselor/Supervisor, Registered Play Therapist-SupervisorTM, and Certified Daring Way Facilitator based on the research by Brené Brown. Vanessa is EMDR certified and a Registered Yoga Instructor. Mrs. Sanford is not a symptom-based therapist and prefers to focus on core issues of shame resilience. vulnerability, courage, self-trust, and self-worth. Vanessa incorporates expressive art, music, animals, and media in treatment. Vanessa’s favorite word is “integration”. She likes to help her clients move what they know in their head into their heart. Vanessa views herself as a student and if you listen to her for 5 minutes, there will be definite details about what books she is reading, what podcast she is listening to, and of course, Yoga. Mrs. Sanford has spoken locally, statewide, and nationally on topics of addiction, anxiety, wholehearted living, court prep for therapists, trauma, animal assisted therapy, and abuse. Mrs. Sanford has also been a co-author for two books and written a handful of blogs and articles focusing on mental health. Mrs. Sanford has facilitated retreats and groups for organizations focusing on support for burnt out staff. Vanessa has been invited to present to CASA volunteers, SMU counseling practicum students, school districts, and local churches. Mrs. Sanford has been interviewed on a local radio show, 2 podcasts, been a guest on Savvy miniseries, and a mentor for Frisco ISM students. Vanessa has been on the advisory council for Frisco Gifted Association and is a proud member of Frisco ARTS. Vanessa was on the National Association for Play Therapy IDEA Team (inclusivity, diversity, equity, awareness) and is the past President for the North Texas Chapter of the Texas Association for Play Therapy. Ms. Sanford was awarded the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Award for 2024 by the Texas Association for Play Therapy. Vanessa Sanford wants to live a brave life full of courage, compassion, creativity, kindness, and social justice. She enjoys collaborations and co-facilitating with amazing teachers to offer more diverse services to the community.

Can you share an Intern/Apprenticeship Lessons/Experience?

While sitting at the courthouse with my colleagues, who were assigned to the same child sexual abuse case, all hoping to seek justice. We had already completed our turn on the witness stand and chose to stay and support our client who testified last. We held hands longing for this client to know we are here to support them while they bravely told the truth. We didn’t know the prosecutor planned to show any recordings of the abuse. This shut down any burden of doubt to the jury. We bowed our heads in solidarity and did not look while the most painful and scariest moments were shared in a public courtroom to prove this child was harmed. I wanted to run out of there and scream at the perpetrator and scold the justice system for showing such invasive evidence while my client sat there and had to endure this all over again. I can never erase the audio and am relieved I never looked. The next moment I remember was running my car into a concrete wall in the courthouse parking garage. I later learned I had dissociated. Dissociation is when our brain wisely decides to disconnect part of our present awareness. It determines what is going on is too much and will protect us as best it can. It can impact memory and focus. I had no training or wherewithal to recognize I was dissociating and needed to get back into a more regulated state to drive safely. I just left the courthouse and ignorantly expected to get behind a motor vehicle in congested traffic for an hour drive home. I didn’t make it out of the parking lot. I am grateful I was not injured and didn’t injure anyone else and was only going about 10 miles an hour. I didn’t see the concrete wall. I don’t even remember driving at all. I “woke up” on impact. I felt like my head was disconnected from my body. I also started to have nightmares and panic and become distrustful of adults after hearing so many stories of sexual abuse while working as an intern at an advocacy center. I remember being told in orientation most interns don’t ever have to testify until after a year and I was on the witness stand for the first time 3 months after starting. In supervision, I shared how disturbed I was and how hard it was to hear these stories. I was told this is the job I signed up for and just deal with it. I felt dismissed and confused and questioned if I was capable. I had no idea what the math formula was for dealing with it. I didn’t feel a sense of trust and had to find others for help. I sought out my own therapy and community. I was an intern, hungry to learn and gather as much information I could. I was taught to stay cognitive, which is baffling since trauma lives in our bodies. The phrases “figure it out” and “deal with it” felt so ambiguous. What are the actual steps besides shapeshifting and pretending and acting like things don’t bother me? I saw too many people just become hardened and desensitized.

I now have language for what I didn’t back then. My intern experience/lessons led me to making sure I recover from the stress of being exposed to many hard stories and oppressive systems and protect my own health. Undergraduate and Graduate courses, supervision and CE trainings I have attended since the late 1990’s spent the majority of objectives on how to tend to clients. What skills and techniques and theories and modalities can help clients. What has been glaringly missing is how we learn to care for our own experience as a witness, listener, and treatment provider. I don’t believe the supervisor who told me to deal with it knew how to help me. I compassionately believe she wasn’t taught. It isn’t really taught. Yes, there are books and podcasts and articles and CE trainings about compassion fatigue and self-care and vicarious trauma and so many other cognitive words to check the box, but do we know how to take them off the list of objectives and into our own bodies? Most of my trainings over the years have been in a classroom setting. A presenter with a PowerPoint, objectives, while participants sit and listen. We look at our own electronic copy or printed copy and write notes. The presenter sees the tops of our heads and sometimes there are moments to discuss or do a quick activity with our table mates. We all pretend and stay superficial and want gold stars for following the teacher’s directions. I haven’t found this sustainable or integrative. The amount of PowerPoints I have never returned to, is too many. I have had to learn outside of the mental health field and discover diverse guides to bring me support so I won’t experience what I did as an intern. These wise guides have never told me to just deal with it. None of them promise a 3 step process for certainty. None of them give me a PowerPoint or objectives. We sit and share stories and read poetry and get outside and move our bodies and eat good food and have deep and vulnerable talks and listen to music. Sherpas modeling to me how to hold and receive space.

My favorite teacher was a horse named Moonbeam. She was described as a brick wrapped in velvet. I was co-leading a women’s retreat with equine-facilitated therapist, Sara Willerson, and her Horses Heart and Soul herd of horses at her ranch. https://horsesheartandsoul.com/ We were sitting on the earth, our backs supported by a circle of trees. I was leading a discussion about shame. I started to feel a wavy sensation of my head being disconnected from my body. I just kept on talking and sticking to the curriculum. Prey animals are wise guides to embodiment. I learned when they to want to connect, we must be congruent. Meaning, if I am mad, I own that and not put a fake smile on and say I’m fine. That is unsafe for a prey animal. They are okay if I am mad. Moonbeam walked into the circle and right up to me and lowered her nose and breathed on me. We were nose to nose. I was pissed. I wanted to please and perform and keep talking my agenda away. Moonbeam was tender and fierce. I cannot move a 1000lb animal. I didn’t want to stop what I was doing but it was quite awkward if I am talking the talk and not walking the walk. I didn’t go without a fight. On the outside I would assume we appeared to be a in a stare down. Internally, I was having a lot of colorful words and asking her to leave me alone so I can just get back to my fancy objectives. She kept breathing on me in a deep slow cadence. She knew before I did, I was activated in my own shame and started to dissociate. I was tense and rigid. It seemed like eternity. My co-lead saw this invisible boxing match and took over and asked for all to sit and breathe. Moonbeam was calling me out. I didn’t want to be called out. I then started to breathe in harmonic rhythm and recognized what stories were coming up for me about my own shame. My shoulders dropped, I felt reconnected and grounded and a deep sense of gratitude. Moonbeam’s work was done and she left as gently as she came in. I was taught to hold space for other’s and Moonbeam reminded me I get to have space held for me too. She taught me it’s okay to pause what I am doing and check in and breathe and then return when I am ready I can drive.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?
Anne Lamott, one of my favorite authors, says, “sometimes we gotta stop getting our help all over people”. I have really had to hold up a mirror to my relationship with help. When I first started as a therapist, I focused only on the client’s needs. That is how I was taught. I also learned many helpers hold their worth in being able to help. Help can also be synonymous with fixing, rescuing, and even co-dependence.

Asking for help is brave and help is complicated and even oppressive sometimes. Help can be riddled with the privileged only getting access. Help can also be building a collective referral system for client’s needs. We must include our own health in helping others. In the beginning of my career, I would show up to the hospital or non-profit organization and be told who is on my schedule without any say if the client was a good fit or not. It was a learning environment so I had to be open to all cases and learn as I went. At the beginning of my transition to private practice, someone would call and ask for help and I would say yes! How can I help? I would go above and beyond without even checking if I am a good fit. During a consultation, I was processing a case with a smarter and more seasoned therapist and discussed the importance of therapists also getting to consent in agreeing to work with a client. What a radical offering! It brought warmth to me to know just because someone is asking for help, doesn’t mean I must say yes or am the right fit for their needs. I also get to discern and check to see if this is the right fit for me too instead of only looking at the relationship one way. The helping relationship between client and provider is one requiring reciprocal trust. Sometimes the most helpful act I can provide is saying no to someone that isn’t a good fit and provide referrals. Living consent can be practiced from both the client and provider, meaning it might be a good fit at one time but at some point it is okay for the client to move on and also for referrals to be recommended for a better fit.

I have had to unlearn my relationship with the kind of help that is one-sided, riddled with unrealistic expectations I can fix or rescue or promise a math formula of certainty. Help sometimes looks like quiet sturdiness, sitting in awkward silence so the client has time to decide what to share without pressure, and lots and lots of humor. My clients and I laugh a lot. We cry too. We also play. We move our bodies. We bring in food and honor their culture. We listen to a lot of music and read poetry together. We walk outside and sometimes they bring their beloved pet to our sessions. We do lots of art and curiosity and compassion join in every moment. We continue to thread in treatment modalities like EMDR (eye movement reprocessing desensitization), play therapy, Brené Brown’s research, sand tray therapy, Yoga, and many options I am trained in. I stay in the learner position and we work towards recovery at a collective and inclusive pace.

Other than training/knowledge, what do you think is most helpful for succeeding in your field?

My dear friend and mentor Marshall Lyles said, “Taking risks and trying scary things is how we grow. Be brave enough to try and then be humble enough to repair the results of an imperfect try.” I am willing to take risks and also repair when I mess up. I invest in myself. I trust my relationship with curiosity and compassion and follow them around wholeheartedly. They have been good to me and also really challenge me. I will work on my relationship with boundaries the rest of my life.

I am trying to stay curious, protect my boundaries, use my voice even when it shakes, lead from my heart, and stay off of social media as much as I can. I consult with smarter and more seasoned folks that don’t just tell me what I want to hear. They stretch me and disagree and allow space for failure. This is my care over algorithms. I continue to try and embody care that works for me and not pressure others to do it my way. My favorite practice is discernment and integrity. I call her gritty, for short. She is a part of me that really cares for my health and is tender and fierce and calls me out when I am out of alignment. She doesn’t promise me things will always work out or others will applaud my behavior, but when I follow her lead, I sleep better at night and my gut isn’t tied in knots, or my overthinking isn’t noisy. She helps me detach my worth from others approval. She helps me lean into my accountability and my values. I trust her and she does require I do really uncomfortable things. She believes in me and has high expectations. For example, I was recently in a leadership position for the state. I experienced some out of alignment behavior in leadership and did not want to stay silent or complicit with concerns many of us were having about the changes. I consulted and got curious about why I had such a strong reaction. I listened to others concerns. I sat long enough to learn there was top down pressure to do things in their fast pace with not–a-lot-of-answers or support or honoring the volunteer position. I chose to speak up and speak out. I chose to rock the boat with love and hope. I chose to not let my fear quiet advocacy. It took energy from me, it took time from me, but I stayed in my integrity. Was it hard? Yes. I chose courage over comfort. I chose the hard thing over the easy thing and I closed the gap from my beliefs and behavior. The messy, the flawed, and the vulnerable moments led me. I also needed lots of recovery from it and that care was mine to be responsible for.

I love this work and want to protect it. I don’t want to burn out and I find having diverse ways to provide care has really helped me stay successful. I am currently loving the invitations to provide care to organizations and support their staff’s protection from burnout. This can look like a day retreat for staff or individual or group work to help support their specific needs. I bring in as much experiential learning and make sure and focus on the feedback the staff is providing. I do not come in as a knower. We work together.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.sanfordsupportsystem.com

Image Credits

Andrea Sanford for headstand pic
Sara Willerson for me and Moonbeam, the horse pic
Vanessa M. Sanford for office pics
John Sanford for Vanessa pic