By Annie Wright, LMFT · Licensed Marriage & Family Therapist (#95719)Clinically reviewed May 2026

POST-EXIT FOUNDERS • May 23, 2026

Last reviewed: June 2026 by Annie Wright, LMFT

In short: Post-exit depression is a distinct clinical state following a founder’s liquidity event, marked by anhedonia and purpose loss as the nervous system struggles to reorganize an identity that was built around building.

The Six-Month Mark

She “should” be fine by now. The wire transfer cleared months ago. The earn-out period is behind her, or at least running smoothly. She’s traveled, she’s rested, she’s bought the house, she’s enrolled her kids in the best schools. Friends at dinner say, “You seem so much better since you sold. You must be loving the freedom.” She smiles, nods, agrees, and then excuses herself early, the private knowledge that something is profoundly wrong sitting heavy in her chest.

This is the quiet, bewildering arrival of post-exit depression. It isn’t the urgent, crisis-oriented depression that often accompanies burnout, where every cell in your body screams for relief from unrelenting demand. Instead, it’s a flatter, quieter state, an absence of urgency in a woman whose entire nervous system was built around urgency. The specific sensory details often emerge subtly: the afternoon she can’t get off the couch, even though she has no pressing reason to stay there; the book she’s read the same page of four times, the words blurring without meaning; the text from her former co-founder’s wife she still hasn’t answered, not out of malice, but out of a strange, inexplicable inertia. Joy, which she anticipated in abundance, keeps staying just out of reach, like a ghost.

This isn’t the depression of a sudden, identifiable loss, but rather a slow-dawning realization that the scaffolding of her identity, her purpose, and her daily rhythm has been removed, leaving a vast, echoing space. She might feel a profound sense of anhedonia, an inability to experience pleasure from activities that once brought her satisfaction. The drive that propelled her to build a company, to navigate term sheets and due diligence, to manage a cap table and a growing team, now feels directionless, muted. This isn’t what she expected after achieving what so many only dream of. The paradox of profound success leading to such internal emptiness can be deeply disorienting, challenging her very understanding of what it means to be well. This internal dissonance, the external evidence of success clashing with the internal experience of depletion, is a hallmark of post-exit depression. It’s a quiet suffering, often invisible, that eats away at the core of one’s sense of self and future.

What Is Post-Exit Depression?

Post-exit depression is a specific, contextual form of depression that arises after a significant professional exit, such as selling a company. While it can meet the diagnostic criteria for Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), its origins are deeply intertwined with the unique psychological, neurobiological, and identity shifts that occur when a founder separates from the enterprise that has consumed her life for years [1]. It’s a depression born not of failure, but of a profound success that dismantles the very structures that organized one’s sense of self and purpose.

It’s crucial to distinguish post-exit depression from other common psychological states. Unlike grief, which is typically organized around a specific, named loss (a person, a relationship, a specific dream), post-exit depression often presents as a diffuse anhedonia rather than organized mourning. The founder might not even consciously recognize what she’s mourning, leading to further confusion and self-blame. The absence of a clear object of grief can make the experience feel even more amorphous and difficult to articulate, contributing to feelings of isolation. It’s also distinct from burnout, which is a state of physical and emotional depletion resulting from chronic, unmanaged stress and demand [2]. Burnout happens before the exit, often driving the decision to sell. Post-exit depression, conversely, often arrives after the demand is removed, when the founder is ostensibly free from the pressures that caused burnout. The relief from burnout can paradoxically unmask a deeper, more systemic depressive state that was previously overshadowed by the sheer volume of stress.

A key feature of post-exit depression is anhedonia, a symptom that can feel particularly cruel to someone who has just achieved financial freedom. This isn’t merely a lack of enthusiasm; it’s a profound neurobiological blunting of the capacity for joy and interest.

For a woman who “should” be enjoying her freedom, who can now afford any luxury or experience she desires, this inability to feel pleasure can be profoundly disorienting and isolating. It’s a quiet suffering, invisible to the outside world, and often incomprehensible even to herself. The internal narrative can become self-critical: “Why can’t I just be happy? What’s wrong with me?” This self-blame further entrenches the depressive state, making it harder to reach out for help. The absence of external stressors can make the internal emptiness feel even more stark and unbearable, as there’s no longer an external “problem” to focus on or solve. Instead, the problem resides within, a quiet void where purpose and passion once thrived.

The Neurobiology of Purpose Loss and Depression

The experience of post-exit depression isn’t merely psychological; it has deep roots in neurobiology. For years, the founder’s brain was operating in a high-stimulation, high-reward environment. Her reward system, particularly her dopamine pathways, was constantly engaged by the thousands of small wins that define building a company: the product decision that worked, the hire that was right, the quarterly review that landed, the successful negotiation of a term sheet, the closing of a funding round, the positive feedback from a customer. Each of these moments, however small, provided a hit of dopamine, reinforcing the behaviors and dedication required for entrepreneurial success. This constant activation of the mesolimbic dopamine system, often referred to as the brain’s “reward pathway,” created a neurochemical landscape optimized for relentless pursuit and achievement [1]. The brain became accustomed to this high level of stimulation, effectively hardwiring itself for the entrepreneurial grind.

When the company is sold, that high-demand, high-reward environment is abruptly removed. The intricate system that organized her daily functioning, her motivation, and her very sense of purpose no longer has an environment to operate in. The sudden cessation of this constant dopamine reinforcement can lead to a significant drop in dopamine levels and receptor sensitivity, creating a state akin to withdrawal. This isn’t a moral failing or a lack of gratitude; it’s a physiological response to a dramatic shift in environmental stimuli. As Bessel van der Kolk, MD, a psychiatrist and trauma researcher, has extensively documented, the human nervous system is deeply shaped by its environment and the demands placed upon it [3]. When the external structure that organized one’s physiological and psychological functioning is removed, it can lead to a profound depletion in these reward pathways. It’s not just a mental shift; it’s a physiological recalibration that can leave the brain struggling to find its footing, resulting in depressive symptoms even in the absence of a primary mood disorder. The brain literally has to re-learn how to generate pleasure and motivation without the constant external reinforcement of building a company.

William Bridges, PhD, an organizational consultant and author, speaks to a related phenomenon with his concept of the “neutral zone” [4]. This is the in-between time when an ending has occurred, but a new beginning hasn’t yet taken shape. Bridges describes this as a physiologically distinct state, often marked by feelings of disorientation, emptiness, and even a sense of meaninglessness, which can closely resemble depression. For founders, the neutral zone isn’t just a psychological concept; it’s an embodied experience where the nervous system is literally in transition, trying to adapt to a new baseline that lacks the familiar organizing principles of the entrepreneurial life. The brain, accustomed to the clarity of purpose and constant problem-solving, finds itself adrift in an unfamiliar landscape of choice and unstructured time, which can feel overwhelming rather than liberating.

The body, too, carries the imprint of this shift. For years, the founder’s nervous system was likely in a state of chronic activation, driven by the demands of fundraising, scaling, and managing a team. This sustained activation, often characterized by elevated cortisol and adrenaline, kept her in a state of hyper-vigilance, ready to respond to any challenge. Even if she felt “burnt out” by this, it was a familiar state of being, a predictable physiological rhythm. When that external demand is removed, the nervous system doesn’t immediately downregulate. Instead, it can enter a state of collapse or profound fatigue, a biological “exhale” that feels less like relief and more like a profound energy drain. This is the parasympathetic nervous system, which governs “rest and digest” functions, overcompensating after prolonged sympathetic (fight-or-flight) dominance. This somatic experience contributes significantly to the pervasive flatness and lack of vitality characteristic of post-exit depression, manifesting as profound fatigue, difficulty initiating tasks, and a general sense of being “stuck.” The body, having been a finely tuned instrument for high performance, now feels sluggish and unresponsive, further contributing to the founder’s sense of disorientation and frustration.

How Post-Exit Depression Shows Up in Driven Women

The presentation of post-exit depression in driven women founders is often insidious, masked by a veneer of continued competence and public performance. They are, after all, accustomed to performing. Their entire careers have been built on presenting a confident, capable front, regardless of internal struggles. This ingrained habit of self-sufficiency and emotional containment makes it particularly challenging to identify and address this form of depression.

Consider Elena. She founded her fintech company at 29, building it over 12 intensely demanding years before a private equity firm acquired it when she was 41. The exit was significant, a liquidity event that secured her family’s financial future for generations. Eight months post-close, Elena came to therapy. Her presenting concern wasn’t “depression” in the traditional sense; it was, “I can’t find the point.” This phrase, “I can’t find the point,” is a common and poignant expression of anhedonia and purposelessness that often accompanies post-exit depression, signaling a profound loss of meaning rather than overt sadness.

In public, Elena was “performing recovery.” Her LinkedIn posts showcased her “sabbatical”: exotic travel, new hobbies, board seats on non-profits. She went to yoga classes, she meditated, she said all the right things when people asked how she was doing. She was a master of the “LinkedIn sabbatical”. A carefully curated image of thriving. But in private, the reality was starkly different. Some days, she struggled to leave the house. The simple act of choosing an outfit felt monumental. She felt a profound sense of anhedonia, a dull ache where her vibrant drive used to be. She had no prior mental health history, which made her current state even more bewildering. In our third session, she confessed, “I keep waiting to feel like myself again, and I’m starting to wonder if this is who I am now.” This internal questioning, the erosion of a stable self-concept, is a deeply unsettling aspect of post-exit depression. The woman who once knew exactly who she was and what she was doing now feels like a stranger in her own skin, untethered from the identity that defined her for so long.

This is a common pattern in my work with post-exit founders. These women are often highly resistant to seeking help, not because they don’t recognize their distress, but because they lack a framework for understanding themselves as “a person who needs therapy.” The shame of needing support when you “have everything” is immense. They’ve been celebrated for their resilience, their grit, their ability to overcome obstacles. To admit to an internal struggle when their external life appears perfect feels like a profound failure. They often lack the clinical language to articulate what’s happening, defaulting to self-criticism (“I’m ungrateful,” “I’m lazy now”) rather than recognizing a genuine depressive episode. This self-blame is exacerbated by the societal narrative that equates financial success with happiness, leaving no room for the complex emotional realities of post-exit life.

The high-functioning nature of this depression means it can go unrecognized for months, even years. These women continue to manage their family offices, engage in philanthropy, and take on advisory roles. They might even start a new venture, believing that another company will rekindle their lost purpose. But without addressing the underlying emotional and neurobiological shifts, these efforts often feel hollow, perpetuating the cycle of internal emptiness. The “curse of competence” means they can continue to function at a high level, even as their internal world feels like it’s crumbling. They might appear productive and engaged, yet internally they are battling a pervasive sense of emptiness and a lack of connection to their activities. This internal-external split can be profoundly isolating, as they feel unable to share their true experience with others, fearing judgment or misunderstanding.

The Difference Between Post-Exit Depression, Grief, and Burnout

Understanding the nuanced distinctions between post-exit depression, grief, and burnout is crucial for effective intervention and self-compassion. While these states can overlap and influence one another, they are not interchangeable. Misattributing one for another can lead to ineffective coping strategies and prolonged suffering.

Grief, in its purest form, is an adaptive response to a specific, identifiable loss. When you lose a loved one, a relationship, or a specific dream, grief provides a framework for processing that ending. There are rituals, social scripts, and a general understanding of the mourning process. For a founder, she might grieve the loss of her team, the daily operational problem-solving, the specific identity she held as “CEO,” or the future she envisioned for her company [5]. This grief is often intense, with waves of sadness, anger, and longing. The process of grieving, though painful, typically involves a trajectory of acute distress followed by gradual integration and adaptation to the loss, eventually allowing for renewed engagement with life.

Post-exit depression, however, is often more diffuse. It can arrive before the founder has fully named what she’s mourning. Instead of specific pangs of sadness, there’s a pervasive flatness, an anhedonia that colors all experiences. It’s less about the acute pain of a specific loss and more about the systemic shutdown that occurs when the central organizing principle of one’s life is removed. The founder might feel a profound sense of purposelessness, a lack of meaning that grief, paradoxically, can sometimes provide through its focus on what was lost. The absence of a clear object of mourning can make the experience of post-exit depression feel more bewildering and harder to process, as there’s no clear narrative or external validation for the internal distress. It’s an internal landscape of desolation rather than a focused emotional response to a specific event.

Burnout, on the other hand, is the depletion that comes from giving too much for too long. It’s the exhaustion of chronic stress, the feeling of being completely emptied out by relentless demand. Founders often experience burnout before or during the exit process, as they push through due diligence, negotiations, and integration periods. The decision to sell a company can often be driven by a deep-seated burnout, a desperate need for relief from the unyielding pressure. The symptoms of burnout include extreme fatigue, cynicism, and a reduced sense of personal accomplishment [2]. It’s a state of over-activation and depletion, where the individual’s resources are completely exhausted by persistent demands without adequate recovery.

Post-exit depression often arrives after the demands of burnout have ostensibly been lifted. The founder is no longer giving too much; in fact, she might feel she has nothing left to give, or nothing to give to. The lack of external demand, which should bring relief, instead brings a bewildering emptiness. It’s the depletion not of having too much to do, but of not having enough to do that feels meaningful. The distinction lies in the source of the depletion: burnout is from over-engagement and chronic stress, while post-exit depression is from a profound disengagement from a central life purpose and the resulting neurobiological shifts. The former is a state of being overwhelmed; the latter is a state of being underwhelmed by life itself.

The treatment implications for each state differ significantly:

• Grief needs witness, validation, and ritual. It requires space to feel the pain of loss, to tell the story of what was, and to slowly integrate the absence into one’s life. Support groups, memorialization, and narrative therapy can be particularly helpful in processing grief.
• Burnout needs rest, boundary repair, and a radical re-evaluation of one’s relationship with work and self-care. It often requires a complete cessation of high-demand activities to allow the nervous system to recover. Strategies involve stress reduction, improving sleep, re-establishing work-life boundaries, and addressing the underlying patterns of over-functioning. You can read more about founder burnout and how it’s often rooted in childhood patterns here.
• Post-exit depression needs purpose reconstitution. It requires finding new structures of meaning and engagement that can re-engage the reward pathways of the brain and provide a sense of direction. This often involves somatic and parts-work approaches to address the embodied experience of purpose loss and identity dissolution. It’s about building a new internal scaffolding for meaning, rather than simply recovering from exhaustion or processing a specific loss. This process is often less about “doing” and more about “being” and “discovering.”

Both/And: The Exit Was the Right Decision and You Are Genuinely Depressed

One of the most challenging aspects of post-exit depression is the internal conflict it creates. For many women founders, the exit was undeniably the right decision, strategically, financially, and often personally, to escape the relentless demands of the build. Yet, the ensuing depression can cast a shadow of doubt, making them question if they made a mistake, if they were truly ready, or if they are simply ungrateful. This is where the “both/and” framework becomes crucial: the exit was the right decision and you are genuinely depressed and the depression doesn’t retroactively make the exit wrong. These three things can be simultaneously true. This paradoxical reality is difficult for many to hold, both for the founder and those around her, as it defies the simplistic narratives of success and happiness.

Consider Maya. Her company was acquired five years ago in a significant deal. She only found therapy in year three, when the pervasive numbness she’d experienced since the acquisition shifted into something she couldn’t name, something that felt heavier and more insistent than just “being tired.” She described the first two years post-exit as “functional depression, I was doing all the things, completely underwater, and nobody knew.” This “functional depression” is particularly insidious, as it allows the founder to maintain external appearances while internally suffering, delaying recognition and intervention. She continued to sit on boards, advise startups, and manage her family’s newfound wealth, all while feeling a profound internal emptiness. She was, in essence, performing her life rather than truly living it, disconnected from any genuine sense of joy or purpose.

For Maya, the depression forced a deeper reckoning. She credits it with making her finally slow down, look inward, and confront the ways she had defined herself solely by her professional achievements. “The depression,” she told me, “was the door I had to walk through to get to the life I actually wanted.” This perspective highlights the transformative potential of even the most challenging experiences. The forced introspection, though painful, can become a catalyst for profound personal growth and the discovery of a more authentic self. Now, five years out, she describes the exit as “the best thing that happened to me, and the depression as the necessary passage I had to navigate to truly understand myself beyond the company.” Her journey illustrates that the depression, while agonizing, can serve as an unwelcome but ultimately vital guidepost toward a more integrated and meaningful existence.

This “both/and” framing validates the founder’s experience without undermining her past decisions. It acknowledges the complexity of human experience, especially when navigating profound transitions. The depression isn’t a sign of weakness or a flaw in judgment; it’s a genuine psychological and neurobiological response to a massive shift in identity, purpose, and environment. It’s a signal that requires attention, not judgment. By accepting this complexity, founders can begin to dismantle the self-blame and shame that often accompany post-exit depression, creating space for healing and self-compassion.

The exit was a strategic triumph, a testament to years of hard work, intelligence, and sacrifice. Holding that truth alongside the reality of post-exit depression allows for self-compassion and opens the door to healing. It prevents the insidious shame that often accompanies this experience, where founders feel they must hide their internal struggles because their external circumstances are so enviable. This is a common theme for founders, who often experience isolation and a feeling that friends can’t hold the complexity of their experiences. You can read more about that here. The “both/and” approach fosters a more holistic understanding of the founder’s journey, recognizing that monumental achievements can coexist with profound internal struggles, and that both deserve to be acknowledged and addressed.

The Systemic Lens: Why Post-Exit Depression Is Invisible in Founder Culture

Post-exit depression remains largely invisible within founder culture, and there are systemic reasons for this. Founder culture, particularly in the tech and venture capital ecosystems, is deeply rooted in a narrative of relentless forward momentum, triumph, and the “what’s next?” mentality. The gap between one company and the next is often perceived as a sign of weakness, a failure to maintain the entrepreneurial drive, rather than a necessary passage for integration and recovery. This cultural pressure discourages vulnerability and implicitly shames those who aren’t immediately ready to launch into their “second act.” The pervasive expectation is one of continuous achievement, where pausing for internal processing is seen as a luxury or a sign of lost ambition. This environment creates a powerful disincentive for founders to acknowledge or seek help for post-exit depression, as it directly contradicts the idealized image of the perpetually driven, successful entrepreneur.

The triumphant exit narrative is powerful. Founders are celebrated for their success, their grit, their ability to “make it.” To then admit to struggling with depression after achieving this pinnacle of success doesn’t fit the script. It disrupts the idealized image of the founder who gracefully transitions from one success to the next. This cultural invisibility means that many women founders suffer in silence, believing their experience is unique or a personal failing. The lack of public discourse or acknowledged examples of post-exit struggles reinforces the idea that such experiences are anomalies, rather than a common, albeit unaddressed, phenomenon. The clinical literature has historically focused heavily on burnout (the pre-exit grind) but has paid almost no attention to the post-exit period, leaving a significant gap in understanding and support. This academic and cultural void further isolates founders experiencing this unique form of depression, as they lack both external validation and established pathways for help.

The gender dimension further complicates this invisibility. Women founders who express post-exit difficulty are often subjected to a different kind of scrutiny than their male counterparts. Their judgment about the exit might be questioned (“maybe you sold too soon,” “perhaps you weren’t cut out for it”), rather than receiving clinical support for a genuine depressive episode. There’s an underlying societal narrative that implies women should be “happier” or “more balanced” once the demands of entrepreneurship are removed, making their depression even more confusing and stigmatizing. This pressure to perform happiness, even when internally struggling, is a significant barrier to seeking help. Women are often held to higher standards of emotional resilience and are less likely to be afforded the same grace as men when they experience mental health challenges, particularly after achieving significant professional milestones. This double standard exacerbates the shame and isolation, pushing women founders further into silence.

Moreover, the very traits that make women founders successful, resilience, self-reliance, a tendency to over-function, and a deep sense of responsibility, can also make them adept at masking their internal struggles. They are accustomed to pushing through, to solving problems independently, and to presenting a strong front. This “superb performer” persona, as Judith Herman describes it [6], can make it incredibly difficult for others, and even themselves, to recognize the depth of their distress. The expectation to keep “earning” their success, even after a significant liquidity event, perpetuates a cycle of self-abandonment and emotional suppression. This internal pressure to maintain an image of strength and capability prevents them from acknowledging their vulnerability, even to themselves, thereby delaying their access to much-needed support and prolonging their suffering.

What Treatment Actually Looks Like

Treating post-exit depression requires a nuanced, multi-modal approach that recognizes its unique origins and manifestations. This isn’t a problem that can be white-knuckled through alone, nor is it effectively addressed with generic self-help advice. It requires professional support that understands the specific context of women founders, integrating both psychological and neurobiological perspectives.

1. Somatic Therapy: The depression has a profound physical dimension. The nervous system, accustomed to chronic activation, needs help regulating to a new baseline. Approaches like Somatic Experiencing (SE) or Sensorimotor Psychotherapy can help release the accumulated tension and trauma held in the body, allowing for a felt sense of safety and calm. This involves tracking bodily sensations, understanding the nervous system’s responses, and gently guiding the body out of states of collapse or hyperarousal. For a founder whose body has been in a constant state of readiness, learning to truly relax and feel safe in her own skin is a foundational step. This process helps to re-establish a healthy vagal tone and integrate the physiological shifts that have occurred. You can learn more about how the body holds trauma here.

2. Internal Family Systems (IFS) / Parts Work: For many founders, their identity became deeply intertwined with their company. The “manager” part that ran the company, made strategic decisions, and drove growth, is now grieving its primary function. Other parts, perhaps long exiled during the relentless build, might emerge, demanding attention. IFS therapy helps founders understand and relate to these different “parts” of themselves, the driven builder, the exhausted caregiver, the lost explorer, the shamed perfectionist. It allows for internal healing and integration, helping the “Self” (the wise, compassionate core) to lead these parts toward new purpose and balance. This approach is particularly powerful for addressing identity dissolution, allowing the founder to gently disentangle her sense of self from the now-absent company and build a more multifaceted, resilient identity that encompasses more than just professional achievement. It fosters self-compassion and allows for a more harmonious internal landscape.

3. Limits of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT): While CBT can be useful for addressing cognitive distortions in some forms of depression, it is often insufficient for post-exit depression. This isn’t merely a matter of “thinking differently.” The depressive symptoms are often organized around a genuine loss of purpose and a neurobiological shift, not just faulty thought patterns. While challenging negative self-talk can be helpful, it doesn’t address the deeper somatic and identity-level shifts that have occurred. For a founder struggling with anhedonia and purposelessness, simply reframing thoughts about her situation often feels superficial and dismissive of the profound internal experience. A more holistic approach is needed to address the root causes rather than just the surface symptoms.

4. Medication as Support, Not Solution: Antidepressant medication can be a valuable support, particularly for alleviating severe symptoms like pervasive anhedonia or debilitating fatigue, making it easier to engage in therapy and life. By modulating neurotransmitters, medication can create a necessary window of relief, reducing the intensity of the depressive symptoms and providing the founder with enough energetic and emotional capacity to engage in deeper therapeutic work. However, medication alone is rarely a complete solution for post-exit depression. It can help manage symptoms, but the underlying issues of purpose loss, identity reconstruction, and nervous system regulation still need to be addressed through therapeutic work. It’s a tool to facilitate healing, not a cure in itself.

5. Realistic Timeline and Recovery Arc: Recovery from post-exit depression is not linear, nor is it quick. It’s a process that often unfolds over many months, sometimes years. The recovery arc typically involves periods of insight and progress interspersed with moments of regression or renewed flatness. From the inside, it feels like a slow, iterative process of rediscovery, rediscovering pleasure, purpose, and a sense of self beyond the company. It requires patience, self-compassion, and consistent engagement with professional support. Founders, accustomed to rapid progress and clear milestones, often find this non-linear process frustrating. It’s crucial for both the founder and her therapist to hold a realistic expectation of the transition, celebrating small shifts and understanding that setbacks are part of the natural healing process. This spaciousness allows for genuine integration and the slow, organic emergence of a new, more authentic self.

This is not something to white-knuckle through alone. The unique nature of post-exit depression demands specialized understanding and care. Seeking therapy that is trauma-informed and understands the specific psychological terrain of women founders is not a luxury; it’s a necessity for reclaiming vitality and constructing a meaningful “second act.” You can find more resources and support for post-exit founders on our Post-Exit Founders Resource Hub.

References

Peer-Reviewed Research (Vancouver)

1. Cloitre M, Stolbach BC, Herman JL, van der Kolk B, Pynoos R, Wang J, et al. A developmental approach to complex PTSD: childhood and adult cumulative trauma as predictors of symptom complexity. J Trauma Stress. 2009;22(5):399-408. doi:10.1002/jts.20444. PMID: 19795402.
2. Brenner EG, Schwartz RC, Becker C. Development of the internal family systems model: Honoring contributions from family systems therapies. Fam Process. 2023;62(4):1290-1306. doi:10.1111/famp.12943. PMID: 37924221.
3. van der Kolk BA, Wang JB, Yehuda R, Bedrosian L, Coker AR, Harrison C, et al. Effects of MDMA-assisted therapy for PTSD on self-experience. PLoS One. 2024;19(1):e0295926. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0295926. PMID: 38198456.

Books & Cultural Sources (Chicago Author-Date)

• Oliver, Mary. Devotions. Little, Brown Book Group Limited, 2017.

About the Author

Annie Wright, LMFT

LMFT · Relational Trauma Specialist · W.W. Norton Author

Helping driven women finally feel as good as their résumé looks.

Annie Wright is a licensed psychotherapist (LMFT #95719) and trauma-informed executive coach with over 15,000 clinical hours. She works with driven women. Including Silicon Valley leaders, physicians, and entrepreneurs. In repairing the psychological foundations beneath their impressive lives. Annie is the founder and former CEO of Evergreen Counseling, a multimillion-dollar trauma-informed therapy center she built, scaled, and successfully exited. A regular contributor to Psychology Today, her expert commentary has appeared in USA Today, Forbes, Business Insider, Inc., NBC, and The Information. She is currently writing her first book with W.W. Norton.

Work With Annie

Medical Disclaimer