About Liz Wooten, LPC

I'm an LPC in private practice. I see clients every week — over thirty of them, actually. I still remember what it was like to be a PLPC with no idea how the business side worked. I figured it out the hard way, and now I help other therapists skip the mistakes I made.

But the real story is messier.

When I turned 18, that was it. No family money, no safety net, no place to crash if things fell apart. Everything I have, I earned — and I earned it while exhausted.

I went to Saint Louis University and worked full-time the entire time. Not part-time, not work-study — full-time, while taking a full course load. I finished both bachelor's degrees in five years and barely enough sleep to remember the graduation ceremony.

I wanted to get a PhD in Clinical Psychology. I was doing work-study hours at a PhD program on top of my other job, and the faculty there advised me not to apply. They told me SLU wouldn't admit me. That was the first big piece of bad advice I got. I listened, and I shouldn't have. I don't know if they were right or wrong — but I wish I'd tried anyway.

So I pivoted. I got a master's in Criminal Justice from the University of Cincinnati — they had a strong emphasis on rehabilitation, which mattered to me. My faculty had advised me to get a graduate degree to prove I could handle the work. It wasn't my dream — it was a stepping stone. And it worked. After that, I got into a Clinical Counseling master's program at Webster University, which is CACREP-accredited. I worked full-time through that one too.

Later, I started a PhD program at a different school. I left it. The degree would have given me letters after my name, but it wasn't going to pay my bills. I was tired of chasing credentials that didn't translate to actual income.

Now I'm pursuing a Neuroscience master's at King's College London. It's an online program, but King's isn't some diploma mill — their Institute of Psychiatry, Psychology and Neuroscience is ranked #2 in the world for the field. In Europe, neuroscience is more deeply integrated with psychology than it is in the US, where we lean more toward the social science side. I wanted that perspective. I wanted to understand the brain, not just the behavior. And I'm still learning — because I never want to be the person who thinks they've figured it all out.

When I got my LPC, I had to figure out insurance paneling on my own. Nobody walked me through it. I applied to every panel myself — Aetna, Cigna, United, all of them. It's not as hard as people make it sound, as long as you have all your documents ready and you're willing to follow up. The exception is Blue Cross Blue Shield. I've been waiting over two years. Six months of that was just trying to get someone on the phone to tell me my application status.

As a PLPC, I could only see private pay clients. That meant tight margins. That meant checking my bank account before I bought groceries. That meant understanding exactly what it's like to build a practice without a safety net.

I remember what that felt like. And I don't forget it.

I'm Not a Guru

I'm not here to teach you how to build a six-figure practice. I'm not here to sell you a course, a mastermind, or a coaching program. I don't have a funnel designed to extract money from therapists who are already stretched thin.

I'm a peer. I'm someone who figured some things out — the hard way — and wants to share what I learned. That's it.

I'm not ahead of you. I just have different data. I made mistakes you haven't made yet, and I found solutions to problems you might be facing right now. But I'm still in the trenches. I still see clients every week. I'm still navigating the same systems you are.

When we work together, it's collaboration, not coaching. I'm not going to tell you what to do. I'm going to share what worked for me, listen to what's going on with you, and help you figure out what makes sense for your practice. Your success doesn't cost me anything. I don't need you to fail so I can succeed.

I believe in peer support. I believe in sharing openly. I believe the best way to help other therapists is to stop gatekeeping information and start treating each other like colleagues instead of competitors.

I'm Not Doing This Alone

I have a partner who handles the technical side. They have a degree in Art and Design with an emphasis in web design and a minor in marketing. They've been building websites since 2012.

They're also neurodivergent — AuDHD — and they spent years looking for therapists who actually understood how their brain works. That's part of why they care about this work. They know what it's like to search for someone who gets it.

I focus on the clinical side — the voice work, the positioning, the strategy that only a therapist can understand. They focus on the technical execution — the websites, the SEO, the systems that run behind the scenes. Together, we build something neither of us could build alone.

If you want to know more about how it all works — the infrastructure, the research, the technology — you can see that on The Machine.

Why I Do This

I'm not doing this to build an empire. I'm doing this because I remember what it felt like to have nobody.

When I was starting out, I had questions I couldn't answer and no one to ask. I made mistakes that cost me time and money because I didn't have anyone who had been there before me. I figured it out eventually, but it took longer than it should have.

I don't want that for you.

I'm here because I remember. And I want to give you the support I never had.

If This Resonates

If any of this sounds familiar — if you're tired of figuring everything out alone, if you want someone who actually understands what it's like — I'd love to talk.