Today we’d like to introduce you to Jessie Chism.
Hi Jessie, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
When I packed up my life in the Midwest and moved to New Jersey, I thought the hardest part would be starting over—new surroundings, new routines, and learning how to be on my own. I didn’t expect that just as I was settling in, everything would be shaken by something far more profound.
Not long after the move, my dad was diagnosed with a brain tumor.
The word itself felt heavy, unfamiliar, and terrifying. Overnight, my world became a cycle of phone calls, long plane rides, very long car drives, and quiet moments filled with unspoken fear. Being hundreds of miles away from my family made it even harder. There were days when the distance felt unbearable—when I wished I could be there for every appointment, every conversation, every moment that mattered.
In the middle of that uncertainty, I found something I hadn’t expected: a community. A non-profit organization dedicated to supporting families affected by brain tumors became a lifeline. Through them, I met people who understood the language of fear, hope, and resilience I was learning to speak. They didn’t just offer resources—they offered connections. And in that connection, I found strength.
A year later, life had taken another unexpected turn. I began working at the David S. Zocchi brain tumor center at Monmouth Medical Center. What once felt like an overwhelming and deeply personal experience had slowly begun to shape a new sense of purpose. I wasn’t just navigating my own family’s journey anymore—I was witnessing others walk similar paths.
One day, that purpose became clear.
I connected with a family who had been reluctant to accept help. They had been approached before, encouraged before—but something hadn’t clicked. Maybe it was timing, or maybe it was the quiet understanding I carried from my own experience, but this time, they said yes. They allowed support in. Watching that shift—seeing them open up to help they truly needed—stayed with me.
A social worker I worked alongside noticed it too. She saw something in the way I connected, in the way I listened. Not long after, she encouraged me to consider a career in the mental health field.
At first, the idea felt distant, almost too big. But the more I sat with it, the more it made sense. Everything I had been through—every moment of fear, every connection, every small step forward—had been quietly guiding me in that direction.
Six months later, I made a decision that would define my next chapter.
I enrolled in a three-year Master’s program at OLLU.
Looking back, what began as one of the most difficult chapters of my life became the foundation for something meaningful. Out of uncertainty came purpose. Out of distance came connection. And out of one family’s struggle, I found the path I was meant to follow.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
If my life were mapped out, it wouldn’t be a straight highway. It would be lined with orange cones and flickering signs—Road Closed Ahead, Detour, U-Turn Only. Most days, it would simply read: Under Construction.
There were stretches where progress felt slow, almost invisible, as if I were circling the same block, forced to reroute again and again. Setbacks came without warning, reshaping plans I had just begun to trust. But even then, I kept moving—maybe not in the direction I first intended, but forward nonetheless.
Finances, of course, were their own kind of barrier. In the world I had chosen, standing still wasn’t an option. As a social worker, I had to remain current—credentials renewed, continuing education units completed, always learning, always adapting to a field that refused to slow down. Growth came with a cost, and it was rarely small.
As a woman-owned small business, those costs felt even heavier. Fees stacked on fees, forms layered on forms, systems that seemed designed to test endurance more than capability. At times, it felt less like building something meaningful and more like navigating an endless maze of paperwork and expectations.
But even then, I refused to stop.
Because beneath the construction, beyond the detours, there was still a road. And as long as it stretched ahead of me—uncertain, uneven, and unfinished—I would keep going.
Appreciate you sharing that. What should we know about Healing Hearts Psychotherapy?
I am a clinical social worker, and each day I have the privilege of supporting individuals, families, groups, and communities as they navigate life’s challenges. I’m invited into meaningful moments—like sitting with a single mother who is doing everything she can to create a safe, loving home for her children, or celebrating a child overcoming their anxiety.
I’m trusted with some of the most personal and sensitive parts of people’s lives, and I hold that responsibility with deep care. Sometimes, I may be one of the few people who truly understands what someone is going through.
My work centers on creating a space where people can feel safe to be themselves—whether that means being vulnerable, expressing anger, shedding tears, or even finding moments of laughter. It’s a space without judgment, where people can simply be.
And I’m grateful that I get to do this every day.
Are there any important lessons you’ve learned that you can share with us?
The most important lesson I’ve learned didn’t arrive all at once—it revealed itself slowly, through every detour, every challenge, every moment that asked me to choose how I would show up.
At some point along the way, I realized something simple but powerful: you have to decide who you are—and then live like that decision matters.
Not just when it’s easy, or when things are going well, but especially when they’re not. When the path is unclear, when doubt creeps in, when circumstances try to define you before you’ve had the chance to define yourself.
There is a quiet strength in choosing your identity with intention. In saying, this is who I am, and allowing your actions to reflect that, even when the world feels uncertain.
That decision became my anchor. And once I made it, everything else—every step forward, every challenge faced—began to align with it.
Pricing:
- $130 individual session
Contact Info:
- Website: https://psychologytoday.com/profile/980361
- Other: https://care.headway.co/providers/jessie-chism?utm_source=pem&utm_medium=direct_link&utm_campaign=111304
