Anastasija Ignjatovic

Adults say I radiate warmth. Kids say they feel safe with me. I’ll take both.

I’m Anastasija, and I grew up in Serbia where mental health was something you didn’t talk about.

If you were struggling, you sucked it up and pushed through because vulnerability was treated as weakness. That was the culture, and for some reason that mentality never stuck with me. Instead, it pushed me in the opposite direction. I wanted to understand why people suffered in silence and what might happen if they didn’t have to.

Moving to the US gave me a front row seat to what’s possible when resources and support are available. But it also gave me a deep understanding of what it feels like to navigate two completely different worlds. I know what it’s like to search for the right words in a second language and come up short and I know what it’s like to feel ashamed of asking for help when everything you were raised on told you not to. That’s why I also offer sessions in Serbian, Croatian, and Bosnian because sometimes the most important things you need to say can only be said in the language you grew up thinking in.

I work with all ages, from childhood right through to older adults. I specialize in anxiety, depression, grief, trauma, ADHD, self-esteem, identity, relationship struggles, and helping people who are navigating life between two cultures.

A lot of my career has been spent working with children, and something that frustrates me is the idea that young kids don’t know what’s going on around them or can’t express what they feel. They absolutely can. They just do it differently. My job is to pay attention to their play and create ways for them to show me their world on their own terms.

I understand that instinct because I’m a dancer myself. Dance is how I express things that don’t fit into words. Feeling the movement has always helped me more than perfecting it, and that philosophy carries into how I practice. Not everything needs to be perfectly articulated to be meaningful. Sometimes the feeling is enough to start with.

I had a client once with a history of trauma and for months, he barely shared anything. But I didn’t push. I stayed patient and curious, and one day he opened up about something he’d never told anyone. That moment confirmed that my approach was right and trust just takes time.

My father used to say “It doesn’t matter how many times you fall. It matters that you get up.” In therapy with me I want to help you stand up again after a setback. I’m not here to lecture you on how to live or hand you a set of instructions. I’m the character in the movie who shows up along the way and helps the main character realize the answer was already inside them. You’re the one who gets there. I just help you see what was already there all along.

If you’re hesitant about therapy, that makes complete sense, especially if positive feelings about therapy weren’t something you grew up with. New things are uncomfortable and being vulnerable in front of a stranger is scary. You might try it and realize you hate it but you might try it and realize it was exactly what you needed. Not trying at all is the only option that guarantees nothing changes.

In Serbia we have an expression – hope dies last. It means that even when everything feels impossible, the desire for something better is the last thing to leave. If that desire is still somewhere inside you, that’s enough to begin.