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Yes, this site sells candles and soaps—but don’t be fooled. Beneath the scent of lavender and sandalwood lives a conversation most people avoid like the plague: mental health, real mental health. Not the Instagram-quote version. The kind that shapes how you cope, connect, desire, self-sabotage, love, numb out, and survive.

Mental health isn’t just about anxiety and depression. It’s how you handle stress at 2 a.m., how you relate to the people you sleep next to, how you make choices when no one is watching. And whether we like it or not, sexuality is woven straight through all of it. Ignoring that doesn’t make us “proper”—it just keeps us stuck, confused, and quietly miserable.

As a Licensed Professional Counselor and ASSECT-Certified Sexuality Therapist, I have zero interest in treating sexuality like a shameful sidebar or a whispered confession. It’s part of being human. Full stop. My goal is to drag this topic out of the dark ages, strip it of moral panic and misinformation, and treat it with the same honesty and respect we give any other aspect of health.

So light a candle, wash your hands, and stay awhile. If you find yourself wanting—or needing—something deeper, I’m a licensed clinician, and you already know where to find me.

All My Best,

Dr. B. K. Wise, Master Therapist

The Autopsy of a Friendship

Morning is supposed to be renewal-at least for me. A clean slate, a chance to start over. A time for reflection and the opportunity to start over. At 5 a.m., in the cold quiet, there’s no noise to drown out the truth. No distractions to soften the blow. Just me, my coffee, and yesterday’s old self. Today’s subject? A thirty-plus-year friendship that finally bled out. People love to romanticize friendship. They call it sacred, unbreakable. Inspirational quotes about “true fri

Dr. B. K. Wise, LPC, NCC, CST

Jan 77 min read

The Mudpack, Ain't Worth A Nickle

"They eat out of the same plate and swim in the same mud holes." This morning, I woke at my usual time—around 5:00 a.m. I go to bed embarrassingly early, sometimes as early as 8:00 p.m. At 5:00 a.m., Bruce Willis (my dog, not the actor, though I wouldn’t have minded) was lying belly up, snoring softly, his little Boston Terrier body radiating heat like a space heater on four legs. Did you know their body temperature runs about 101 or 102 degrees? Mine does. It’s like sle

Dr. B. K. Wise, LPC, NCC, CST

Dec 28, 20254 min read

The Witching Hour

I started drinking at fourteen. Not sampling . Drinking. Abusing it. Fourteen. Sometimes it ended after one or two. More often, it ended with me on the floor, draped around a toilet, crouched in a yard, or wherever I could vomit in relative privacy. My parents knew. Occasionally, they even offered me a sip. And no—I never tried to stop. Before you rush to judgment, understand the context. This was the mid-1970s. Long before MADD. Long before DUIs were a public concern. Alcoho

Dr. B. K. Wise, LPC, NCC, CST

Nov 6, 20243 min read