In high school, I was voted “Most Likely to Succeed.” On paper, it made sense—I was driven, focused, always chasing the next accolade. But what no one saw was everything I was carrying in silence. Behind the awards and leadership roles was a teenager grappling with anxiety, depression, and a quiet desperation I couldn’t put into words. I didn’t have the tools. I didn’t have the language. I didn’t even know how to ask for help. What I did have was a long road ahead—one that would take me through seven therapists, four psychiatrists, three inpatient hospitalizations, and more medical debt than I’d like to admit.
My story isn’t unique. I’ve met so many brilliant, passionate, creative young people—especially in schools—who are buckling under the weight of invisible battles. Kids who are told to “just push through.” Teens who turn to TikTok because it feels safer than turning to an adult. School counselors who are burned out and stretched thin. That’s why I started Psyflo—a school-based mental health and social-emotional learning (SEL) platform designed to support students before they break down. We use AI agents to deliver SEL content, facilitate emotional check-ins, and guide students through self-reflection—before they reach crisis.
We’re not waiting for kids to fall behind, lash out, or lose hope. We’re designing with prevention at the center. Because for too long, we’ve expected young people to navigate their emotional lives without giving them the language, tools, or support to do so. Psyflo is our attempt to reimagine what early care can look like in schools where too many kids feel overlooked, underserved—or simply unheard.
At its core, I’m building what I needed: A safe space. A starting point. A way to make sense of emotions I didn’t yet know how to name.
And I’m building it for the quiet kid in the back of the room. For the first-gen student. For the high-achieving Black girl who keeps it together on the outside but is falling apart inside. What excites me most about this work is the chance to change the culture around care—from reaction to prevention, from stigma to strength. To give schools, families, and students agency over their emotional well-being.
We’ve already piloted Psyflo in NYC schools, and the early signs are hopeful: Students feel more seen. Educators feel more equipped. And communities are having conversations that used to stay hidden. There’s still a long way to go. But every feature we build, every partnership we form, every student we reach brings us closer to a future where mental health support isn’t an afterthought—it’s a foundation. Entrepreneurship isn’t easy. It’s uncertain, chaotic, and often overwhelming. But for me, it feels right. Like purpose finally catching up with experience.
Psyflo isn’t just a start-up. It’s the thing I needed most. And now, I get to build it—for someone else.