Meet Sander T. Jones, LCSW | Licensed Clinical Social Worker, psychotherapist in private practice

We had the good fortune of connecting with Sander T. Jones, LCSW and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Sander T., what was your thought process behind starting your own business?
I started my practice because I wanted to provide the kind of healing guidance I needed in my own journey. As someone recovering from Complex PTSD, I know how much trauma—especially when it’s rooted in systemic oppression—can impact our mental wellbeing, emotional peace, and the quality and stability of our relationships.
I work with all types of people, and I’ve focused on providing affirming care for people from marginalized communities that I’m part of—LGBTQ+ folks, people doing consensual non-monogamy, and people in kink/BDSM/Leather communities. I also strive to provide affirming care for BIPOC people, people of all body types/sizes/abilities, and sex workers—because I understand how trauma shows up in these spaces, not just from personal experiences, but from the systems of oppression we’re all navigating.
My goal is to help people heal and build happier, more connected and fulfilling lives. That’s what drives everything I do.

Can you give our readers an introduction to your business? Maybe you can share a bit about what you do and what sets you apart from others?
What sets me and my therapy practice apart is the way I integrate my personal and professional experience. I don’t just draw from my clinical training—I also bring in my own healing journey.

I specialize in areas that can be challenging—complex PTSD, relationship counseling, and consensual non-monogamy. I’ve been practicing polyamory for many years myself, so I know both personally and professionally how to hold those conversations in a safe and affirming way.

Another piece that sets me apart is that I don’t see healing as separate from the larger social context we live in. I draw on thinkers like Resmaa Menakem, Jennifer Mullan PsyD, bell hooks, and others to help people connect their personal struggles with the bigger systems of racism, gender roles, and capitalism. That perspective helps clients make sense of their experiences in a broader way.

I also put a strong emphasis on accountability and integrity. I want my clients to grow beyond coping skills—I want them to build self-trust and create healthier, more authentic relationships.

Finally, I see myself not only as a therapist, but also as a public educator. Through my Substack, live events, and social media, I try to make tools for healing more widely accessible. My work is always trauma-informed, and it’s community-centered—I help people navigate the tension between family-of-origin trauma and finding healing in chosen family or community.

Altogether, I think what makes me unique is the way I weave together trauma therapy, relational healing, social justice, and lived experience into a grounded and deeply human practice.

Where are you from and how did your background and upbringing impact who you are today?

On the surface, I came from a white, working-class, military family and was raised mostly in Texas. But a deeper look reveals something more complicated: I grew up as a girl in a deeply misogynistic culture, surrounded by Southern Baptist patriarchy, racism, and homophobia. I endured extensive sexual abuse, all while navigating a world that either denied the abuse existed, or justified it by blaming the victims. This kind of abuse always instills deep shame and feelings of unworthiness. As a budding queer person, I was taught that my queer feelings meant I was unworthy of respect, love, or even existence. The combination of systemic oppression and Complex PTSD nearly ended my life in young adulthood.
What changed everything was leaving home and staying away. By 21, I began my healing path, and eventually I found higher education—which helped me name the systems of oppression that shape our lives. I learned how systemic oppression shields perpetrators from consequences, and how much of what I’d been told to internalize wasn’t mine to carry.

Through healing, I’ve learned self-compassion, how to place blame where it belongs, and—most importantly—how to love myself. From there, I was able to learn how to love others well, and how to allow others to love me.
People sometimes ask me, “How did you come through all of that in one piece?” My answer is always the same: I didn’t. But I built a pretty incredible person out of the pieces—and a joyful life worth living.

What is the most important factor behind your success / the success of your brand?

The most important factor behind my success has been authenticity—choosing to live and work in alignment with my values, even when that has meant taking risks. As a queer therapist in private practice, I built my business on the foundation of freedom and integrity, creating a space where both my clients and I can show up fully as ourselves.
My background taught me early how harmful it is to live in environments of judgment, silencing, and oppression. That experience has fueled my commitment to create the opposite: spaces of safety, honesty, and compassion. Whether in therapy, in my writing, or in speaking engagements, I bring my whole self—including my personal story of healing from trauma, navigating systemic oppression, and building resilience.
What has helped my brand grow is that people can feel when you’re real. I don’t pretend to have it all together, but I do model what it looks like to build a meaningful life out of broken pieces. That’s the thread running through everything I do: authenticity, courage, and a refusal to shrink.

What value or principle matters most to you? Why?

The principle that matters most to me is balance. Every value I hold—kindness, self-compassion, accountability, dignity—has to live in balance to be meaningful.
Take kindness, for example. Kindness is essential, but without balance, it can become enabling or an excuse to avoid the hard conversations that actually foster growth and deepen connections. On the other hand, too little kindness makes it impossible for others to hear or receive what you’re trying to say, no matter how true or valuable your words might be.
The same is true of self-compassion. It’s the cornerstone of my own healing journey, and of the work I do as a therapist. But balance is key—too much self-compassion can become avoidance of necessary discomfort, while too little breeds perfectionism and self-punishment.
I also believe deeply in a shared social contract: that every person deserves basic human rights, dignity, and freedom. To me, the strength to be held accountable is honorable. It’s a way of respecting that contract with others, just as I expect it to be respected in return.
At the heart of it all, balance is what allows me to live authentically, to love myself and others well, and to keep building a life and a practice rooted in both compassion and courage.

Work life balance: how has your balance changed over time? How do you think about the balance?

Work–life balance is something I’m still actively working on, and it continues to evolve. These days, I’ve structured my schedule so that I see clients three days a week and dedicate two days to my writing and speaking career. I keep weekends for rest, family, and joy, and I make it a priority to take vacations.
I live in a polycule of four wonderful people and two octogenarian moms, so balance isn’t just about my own needs—it’s also about being present in the web of relationships and responsibilities that make up my life. Having that community keeps me grounded and reminds me that work is only one part of who I am.
At the same time, I recognize that balance has limits. When a client is in crisis, it doesn’t matter what day it is—I’m responsible for their care, and I don’t take that lightly. For me, balance isn’t about perfection; it’s about building a life that allows me to give generously to my work and my loved ones without burning myself out, and learning when to lean into rest as much as I lean into responsibility.

How do you think about risk, what role has taking risks played in your life/career?

For me, risk has always been tied to freedom. I’m a therapist in private practice now, but the decision to start my own business didn’t feel like a risk so much as a necessity. I wanted the freedom to express myself fully and to work without fear of discrimination. Before I became a therapist, as a queer person, I had been railroaded out of jobs by bigoted management and harassed by coworkers. Striking out on my own was the way I could thrive, rather than shrink myself to fit into hostile environments.

Even before becoming a therapist, I worked for myself as a home remodeling contractor, and I’ve consistently found the most freedom and safety in self-employment. More recently, I have felt risk in publishing my book and stepping into a speaking career. Putting my creative work into the public eye came with the fear of unkind critique and exposure. But choosing to do it anyway has stretched me in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. Each risk I’ve taken has helped me grow—not just professionally, but personally, by deepening my resilience and commitment to living authentically.

What’s the end goal? Where do you want to be professionally by the end of your career?

The end goal for me isn’t about titles or accolades—it’s about impact. By the end of my career, I want to know that I’ve helped shift the way people think about healing, justice, and love. As a therapist, a writer, and a speaker, my work is about showing that it’s possible to build wholeness and joy out of trauma, and to live authentically even in the face of systemic oppression.
Professionally, I hope to continue growing my speaking and writing career alongside my therapy practice—reaching not only the clients who sit across from me, but also broader audiences who are hungry for tools, language, and courage to live more fully. I want my books, my talks, and my presence to keep opening doors for conversations about trauma, systemic oppression, queer identity, and what it means to build real connection.
If there’s an “end goal,” it’s this: to leave behind a body of work that continues to help people long after I’m gone—and to know my life and career were rooted in authenticity, compassion, and the belief that every person deserves dignity and freedom.

Why did you pursue an artistic or creative career?

I pursued a writing and speaking career because I believe healing and justice require more than the one-on-one conversations in my therapy room. My private practice is deeply meaningful, but I’ve always known that the insights I’ve gained through my own healing journey—and through walking alongside clients—deserve a wider audience.
As a queer person who grew up in the thick of patriarchy, racism, homophobia, and abuse, I know what it feels like to be silenced. Writing and speaking are ways I refuse to stay silent. They allow me to name truths about systemic oppression, trauma, and resilience, and to offer others both language and hope for their own healing.
It’s not always easy—sharing my work publicly means risking critique and vulnerability—but it’s worth it. Each time someone tells me that my words helped them feel less alone or gave them a new perspective, I’m reminded why I do this. Writing and speaking expand my reach, let me live more fully in my authenticity, and allow me to contribute to building a more compassionate, courageous world.

Tell us about a book you’ve read and why you like it / what impact it had on you.

One of the most impactful books I’ve read is All About Love by bell hooks. It completely reshaped the way I think about what love actually is. hooks makes the point that what many of us call “love”—that rush of emotion we feel when we think of someone—is more accurately described as cathexis. It’s a powerful feeling, but it’s not the same thing as love.
What she taught me is that love is not simply a feeling—it’s an action. Love is the willingness to foster our own growth and the growth of another. That definition has stayed with me, both in my personal life and in my work as a therapist and writer. It challenged me to stop thinking of love as something that just happens and start understanding it as something we practice, intentionally and consistently.
This book gave me language and clarity for something I had always felt but couldn’t quite name: that real love is active, reciprocal, and rooted in care. It’s changed how I show up in my relationships and in how I talk about love with others.

Shoutout is all about shouting out others who you feel deserve additional recognition and exposure. Who would you like to shoutout?
I owe so much of where I am today to the people, communities, and resources that supported me along the way. First and foremost, I want to recognize the therapists and self-help books that were lifelines in my own healing journey. They gave me the tools to build self-compassion, resilience, and a sense of possibility when I needed it most.

I also want to honor my family of choice—the incredible people I get to share daily love, support, and joy with. Being immersed in that kind of love and acceptance has been transformative, and it’s what sustains me.

Professionally, I’m grateful for the LGBTQ+ therapist community in Atlanta, which has given me connection, solidarity, and encouragement in what can sometimes feel like isolating work. In particular, I want to shout out Rachel Kieran, PsyD, who helped me get started in private practice. Her support and generosity made an enormous difference in giving me the confidence to step into this work on my own terms.

My success has never been mine alone—it’s been built on a foundation of love, guidance, and community, and I’m endlessly grateful for it.

Website: https://www.sandertjones.com

Instagram: @sandertjones

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/sander-t-jones/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sandertjoneslcsw

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@sandertjones

Other: https://substack.com/@sandertjones
https://fetlife.com/SanderTJonesLCSW

Image Credits
three wedding photos were taken by professional photographer Mason Ward https://www.masonwardphotography.art/
all the other photos were taken by family. Desiree B Stephens was the officiant at our wedding. My wife Kelli is in many photos. My other partner Jan is in two photos. And my mom Myearl is in one photo