Let's talk about the professional development conversation that makes everyone uncomfortable: you're not actually good at everything, and pretending you are isn't helping anyone. I know, I know. You're a certified behavior analyst. You passed your exam. You have a caseload. You're doing the work. But if we're being really honest - and that's what this whole series has been about - there are parts of your clinical skillset that are solid, parts that are adequate, and parts tha

There's a moment that happens to every behavior analyst, usually around 2 AM when you can't sleep: you realize the intervention you've been implementing with complete fidelity for the past month isn't working. The data doesn't lie, and what it's telling you is that despite your best efforts, you're not helping this kid. And then comes the spiral: Did I choose the wrong procedure? Is my functional assessment wrong? Am I missing something obvious? Should I have seen this coming

I've sat through hundreds of intake meetings. I've conducted them, I've supervised them, I've reviewed recordings of them. And here's what I can tell you: most of us are doing them wrong. Not catastrophically wrong. Just... incompletely wrong. We're asking the questions we're supposed to ask, filling out the forms we're supposed to fill out, and somehow still walking away without the information we actually need. You know what I'm talking about. You get three sessions in and

Let's be honest about something most ABA professionals won't say out loud: sometimes you realize you've been winging it. Not in a reckless way, but in that "I've done this a thousand times so I'm just going to trust my gut" kind of way. And then one day, you're sitting with data that doesn't make sense, or a parent asks you a question you should know the answer to, and you think... wait, when did I stop being intentional about this? If that hits close to home, you're not alon

This is it. The end of 2025. And if you've made it through this year—through the sessions and the paperwork and the hard conversations and the moments of doubt and the small victories and everything in between—you've earned a moment to stop. Not to plan. Not to prepare. Not to get ahead. Just to stop. So here's what I want to say to you as we close out this year: you have permission to pause for ABA professionals and for yourself as a human being. What Permission to Pause for

Let's be honest: New Year's resolutions are kind of a setup. We set these big, ambitious goals in January when we're feeling motivated and rested. Then life happens. Work gets busy. Motivation fades. And by February, we're back to our old patterns, feeling like we failed at something we never had a realistic shot at succeeding with in the first place. Sound familiar? Here's the thing: as ABA professionals, we know better. We know how behavior change actually works. We know ab

I attended Dr. Shane Spiker's webinar recently where he said something that stopped me in my tracks. He said: "Self-care isn't me first, it's me too." I hadn't heard it phrased that way before, and it landed differently—cleaner, truer, and far more compassionate than the standard "take time for yourself" advice that so often feels impossible. For years, I've coached parents on supporting their children, and almost always, part of that work includes encouraging parents to supp

As I look back on 2025, the themes that keep rising to the surface—louder and clearer than anything else—are intentionality, community, and learning to let go. These aren't the polished, LinkedIn-ready reflections. This is the real version. The messy, honest, "I'm still figuring this out" version. And I think that's what makes these reflections on 2025 for ABA professionals worth sharing. Because if this year taught me anything, it's that the work of building a sustainable pr