Hi I’m Nat Vikitsreth, LCSW, DT, CEIM

I’m so happy you’re here. Thank you for taking the time to get to know me…

Let’s say we run into each other in an infant massage class and you ask me: “So…Nat, what do you do?”

My response would be: “I support social justice curious parents in their efforts to integrate social justice action into their daily parenting while re-parenting their inner child. So that they can bring their whole selves to both parenting and community organizing. I do that with a wholehearted compassion, a whole lot of curiosity, and a wholesome liberation practice.”

Which is a long way of saying: “I work as a decolonized and licensed, clinical and somatic psychotherapist and a trans-disciplinary artist and trans rights activist.”

(Professional) Letters, receipts, & bio

Land and Lineage acknowledgement

My path to this work started with one child.

I think every teacher can tell you a story or two about that ONE student who changed their life forever. Mine is a five-year-old student with autism in Thailand in 2009 who set my ego straight and brought me to you today.

His name is Dang, and he loved Thai fried rice, his baby sister, and trees… all of which I could not appreciate fully at the time. It was hard to honor how much he loved spinning leaves on the floor when I needed him at his table sitting with a 90 degree upright spine and writing the Thai alphabet with precision. Nothing I did seemed to get through to him. Wait, rewind. Nothing I did seemed to get him to be the student I wanted him to be. So, I tried harder. I wrote all the curriculum and instruction strategies I knew at the time, practiced them in front of my bathroom mirror, watched TED talk videos, and bribed him with my fried rice...for 30 days straight. Na.Da.

At a loss and with a wounded pride, I stopped talking and enforcing my doing, teaching, and therapizing. I sat next to Dang on the floor. He was ever present with the leaf he was spinning. I felt a brief moment of stillness in my heart even in the chaos of a hot, humid classroom of 45 preschoolers in Bangkok, Thailand. For the first time in four months, I had seen Dang (literally from a new perspective). Still feeling frustrated with myself, I picked up another leaf and played with it on the floor next to Dang. In that moment, I remembered a feeling that there was nothing to do and nothing to improve, perfect, or teach.

Then, I felt Dang scooting closer, still spinning his leaf on the floor. Playing it cool, I minded my own leaf. Moments later, which felt like three hours, he gently placed one hand on my knee as we were spinning our own leaves on the floor...together.

At that moment of shared silence my most “difficult” student became my first and greatest teacher. He taught me to stop talking and being smarty pants. Hello, humility. He taught me that to love is to attune, to be with, to witness, to slow down, to see the beauty in the most mundane moment with the fullest joy.

At that moment I knew that I wanted to dedicate my life serving parents and caregivers of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers.

I knew I wanted to hold space for parents, like you, to be all of who you are so that you can love and understand your child for all of who they are.

I knew I wanted to hold up a mirror so you can see your dignity and humanity reflected back to you.

And that’s what I’ve had the honor of doing for the past decade plus.

“As a cultural worker who belongs to an oppressed people, my job is to make revolution irresistible.”

-Toni Cade Bambara

Rooting My Work in Decolonized & Intergenerational Family Healing

I deepened my clinical training in somatic psychotherapy and infant-parent mental health to sharpen my professional niches in intergenerational transmission of trauma and resilience; neurobiology of attachment injuries (inner child wounds), and decolonized mental health.

This is when I committed to reconnecting with my body and ancestors daily to re-parent myself and heal my inner child and internalized oppression wounds. I used body-based practices like qigong, dance, and burlesque as tools of embodiment to come back home to my body and come back to care.

Because I had to do the work myself so I can teach what I know and teach from my heart.

Taking My Own Medicine First

I also sent myself on a mission to ask my parents about our ancestors, their childhood, their pregnancy with me, and my birth.

(Don’t worry, I won’t pull out the home video.)

It was a mission because I was raised to not ask questions, especially ones that potentially disrupted the family harmony. Plus, as a working class family we didn’t have the privilege to sit down together and talk about our deepest yearnings for the world. I remembered selling leather bags and accessories with my mom and dad at a night market in Bangkok during my preschool years. We were amazing at working together. Talking? Not so much.

It took me three video calls over a month just to learn that I was a C-section baby. The hardest part, though, was sitting through my parents’ emotional defenses- the huffing/puffing, flat out getting hung up on, sarcasm, and the worst of all, the Asian parent death stare of shame. It was quite an experience to see both pain and pride unfold as my parents recounted their childhood stories. I saw my parents, the mighty figures I love and respect, as my grandparents’ adult children. I saw my parents’ inner children yearning for the same love and authentic expression that I, too, long for.

On one call with my mom, we finally talked about the first moment she found out she was pregnant. I could see how hard it was for her to tell me how scared she was at 19. She was so worried about having to spend money to raise me and about losing her identity in motherhood. Interestingly, these are the exact same phrases I told my partner about my fear of having children. Then, I learned from my mom’s sister that my grandmother had a similar experience. Epigenetics, you have quite a sense of humor. Seeing my mom as a woman with rich life experiences made me love her in ways that I didn’t know I could before. It was my turn to hang up the phone on my mom so that I could cry.

Through this discovery via family storytelling, my love for my parents has transformed. I love them as their daughter and respect them as their adult daughter.

The combination of self-reflection and storytelling deepened the connection I have with my parents. The transformation transcends our Thai-Chinese family norms, especially that Asian parent death stare of shame.

Learn a bit more about my personal inner child & internalized oppression wound healing with my grandmother in this podcast episode:

Because to be your whole self, and truly heal, is not about victoriously climbing to the top of Mount Everest or slaying a bunch of self-help books’ protocols. Rather, it’s about coming back home to who you’re born to be and to your ancestral lineage.

That’s why I created Come Back to Care’s signature In-Out-N-Through® Program to build a community of liberation-minded families working together in solidarity towards healing their inner child wounds and breaking free from systems of oppression.

together, we can pass down a legacy of compassion and liberation to future generations.

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Being an Elephant Therapist

A monk in Thailand once taught me to be an elephant therapist- with a tiny mouth and large ears. To listen more than talk, essentially. I’ve been listening very deeply to many parents’ (legitimate) worries around caring for their inner child wounds. One parent told me that they would fight for anti-racism all day if they didn’t have to reopen the tall stack of band-aids their 5-year-old self put on their inner child pain.

To this day, I can still feel an itchy scab of my childhood healing-in-progress injury from the Asian parent death stare of shame (sighing in solidarity). Yes, the scab is still there as a reminder (that I don’t want to see). I have shea butter, coconut oil, pumpkin seed oil, and other remedies that I didn’t have as a child to take care of the healing scab. I’m creating this program so that through our head work, heart work, and hard work you can find your own cream, oil, or lotion, even toothpaste if that’s your jam.

Guided by your own trust in your inner voice, you’ll be the author of your own unfolding life stories. I’m here to facilitate ways you can reclaim and rewrite your stories for yourself and your children with the inevitable discomfort and necessary safety.

As a therapist, I care deeply for your safety. Although the program isn’t therapy, our work is your healing balm. You don’t have to relive the trauma by diving head first at lightning speed into those painful memories.

You can rework the trauma and reintegrate the fragments gradually, wisely, and compassionately with other parents who yearn for the same freedom.

I’m deeply grateful for the time you took to learn a bit more about me. I hope we can practice decolonized, embodied, and intergenerational parenting together when you’re ready.

“It is up to us- to you and to me and to everyone else who cares about human beings- to put a stop to this cycle of trauma. This means metabolizing the trauma in our bodies. It means accepting and moving through clean pain, individually and communally… By refusing to pass on the trauma we inherited, we help heal the world.”
- Resmaa Menakem, My Grandmother’s Hands

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