Meet Israa Hussein | Therapist, LPC

We had the good fortune of connecting with Israa Hussein and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Israa, have you ever found yourself in a spot where you had to decide whether to give up or keep going? How did you make the choice?
When your only option for survival is to keep going, giving up becomes a luxury that’s unattainable, even when you desperately want it. Growing up in a war-torn country, my brain was tunnel-visioned on moving constantly just to find safety, learning over and over how to rebuild myself when I never even got the chance to truly know myself. I only knew myself through the lens of “keep going” , making sure I kept going, no matter what. Giving up was something my brain never considered possible until I finally achieved safety, but even then, I put pressure on myself to keep going on paths that were harming me or that didn’t align with the person I wanted to become. I thought giving up meant I was failing at survival.

But it’s not just about surviving anymore. To a degree, giving up can still act as a defense mechanism a way to avoid challenging the versions of myself I haven’t reached. Anything that threatens that carefully built house of cards, we tend to abandon. I no longer view giving up as a limitation. When I give up on a harmful person who refuses to respect me or my boundaries, I am choosing myself. When I finally accept that I am human and flawed, I am giving up the unrealistic social expectations of perfection. When I refuse to blame myself for the harm others have inflicted, I am giving up being unfair to myself.

And in the same breath, I will only keep going on the paths that allows me to be present with myself and aligned with my values, I will stay on it, moving toward the people and communities that resonate with who I am and who I aim to become.

Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?
My career as a therapist has been shaped by resilience, curiosity, and a deep commitment to creating spaces where people feel truly seen and heard. As an Arab Muslim conducting therapy in Arabic, I’ve faced unique challenges finding the right therapeutic words in Arabic that truly capture experiences that don’t have direct translations was difficult. Early on, I felt pressure to prove myself to a community that often didn’t believe in therapy. But once I stepped back, listened, and simply gave clients space, I realized that pain is pain whether expressed in Arabic or English.

I consider myself more of a conversational therapist because I never want someone to feel alone when sharing their pain or being vulnerable in front of someone they may fear. Humans are incredibly resilient and have defied the odds countless times. What I want the world to know is that the emotions and symptoms you refuse to acknowledge will show up in your life, with or without your permission. You don’t need a perfect moment to start healing or growing. Ironically, the most hurt people often feel like they need to change or wait until they are “better,” but you don’t, sometimes it’s when we hold accountable those who caused us harm that real growth and healing can begin.

I’m most proud of helping clients break harmful patterns, build healthier relationships with themselves, and reclaim their sense of agency. My approach is rooted in authenticity, empathy, and creating a space where people feel empowered to explore, express, and navigate their lives on their own terms, in the language that resonates with them most.

Let’s say your best friend was visiting the area and you wanted to show them the best time ever. Where would you take them? Give us a little itinerary – say it was a week long trip, where would you eat, drink, visit, hang out, etc.
Since it’s fall, my newly discovered favorite season, and it aligns with my goal of leaving my room, my cat, and my books to actually see the world, having my best friend visit would be the perfect excuse to explore. We’d start the week with a steaming bowl of pho, letting the warmth settle in and chatting about life and the unrealistic reality TV that we are consuming. Then we’d wander downtown Denver, enjoying the crisp fall air, stopping at a local café for espresso to make sure we have the energy to for the day. We’d explore bookstores like Tattered Cover and Trident, getting books that we no longer have space for under the reason of supporting our local community.

For dinner, we’d head to Karma Asian Fusion, savoring bold flavors and the comforting, relaxed vibe. Later, we might catch a Clocktower Cabaret show or check out a local theater production or an exhibit at the Denver Art Museum, soaking in the city’s creative energy.

A day trip would take us into the mountains, wandering through trails with vibrant fall colors, crisp air, and breathtaking views. We could even visit a hot spring nearby to relax after a hike, letting the warm water ease our muscles and enjoying the quiet beauty of nature. Another afternoon, we might drive to Boulder or Idaho Springs, exploring small-town streets, stopping at a cozy café for pastries, and letting the scenery slow us down a bit.

With plenty of espresso to keep us moving, pastries to snack on, and the mountains to reset our minds, my friend would experience the heart of the area, full of little surprises, and I would finally accomplish my mission of leaving my room for good.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I want to give a shoutout to all the books that shaped me, especially those in which someone dared to share their story and be vulnerable. I also want to thank my sister Nour and Doha, my parents, my friends, teachers, and supporters who recognized my values before I could; my cat Lulu; Melissa, for recommending me for this newspaper; and, of course, myself, for surviving, learning, and continuing to show up every day.

Website: https://knotcounseling.com/about/#israa

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/israa-hussein-lpc-866943157