Jade Goodloe, DNP, APRN, PMHNP-BC

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Breaking the stigma and making mental health care feel human. No cold checklists or rushed med visits. I want people to feel seen, supported, and heard — like their story matters (because it does). Watching someone go from barely coping to actually living? That’s the work.

Medication can be a game-changer — but it’s not the only answer, and it’s never the first and only thing we reach for.

I don’t believe in throwing pills at people and hoping for the best. I believe in using meds strategically — when they make sense, when they support your goals, and when we’ve had an honest conversation about what they can (and can’t) do.

Some people feel better with the right medication on board. Others do well with education, nervous system support, and lifestyle shifts. Most benefit from a thoughtful combo.

If meds are part of your care, we’ll keep it collaborative, low-pressure, and transparent. You’ll always know what you’re taking, why, and what to expect — no surprises, no “just trust me.”

Your body, your brain, your choice. I’m here to guide, not 

push.

First — I’m really sorry that happened. You shouldn’t have to recover from care that was supposed to help you.

What I do differently is simple, but rare: I listen. I slow down. I treat you like a human — not a checklist or a diagnosis.

You won’t get rushed out the door or talked down to. I won’t assume I know your story before you tell it. You can show up messy, guarded, unsure — that’s all welcome here.

This isn’t about “fixing” you. It’s about understanding you, so we can build care that actually fits.

You deserve a space where you’re taken seriously — without having to perform your pain to prove it. That’s what I’m here to offer.

Start where you are. You don’t have to spill everything — or anything — right away.

This isn’t a test, and there’s no “right” way to show up.

If you need silence, we can sit in it. If you need humor, I’ve got you. If you don’t know how to start, I’ll help you find the words.

I know how hard it is to open up — and how powerful it can be when it finally feels safe to.

When someone realizes they don’t have to hide who they are to be helped. That shift — from guarded to seen — is everything.

Pausing time. Not to get more done — just to rest, breathe, and exist without the world rushing past.

A slow morning. Something baking. No alarm clocks, no emails, no “shoulds.” Just rest, real food, and quality time with my family.

Traveling, gardening, baking, trying new recipes. Nothing fancy, just the real grounding stuff.

Give me an ‘80s action comedy any day — Lethal Weapon, Beverly Hills Cop, Police Academy. It’s nostalgic, ridiculous, and weirdly comforting. 

I’m actually a tea person. Something minty, citrusy, and green — with honey. Always.

I’m wildly introverted — and somehow still the loudest, goofiest one in the room. Probably the snacks. Definitely the snacks.

I’d live on a farm and run my own farmers market — selling homemade jam, fresh-pressed olive oil, warm bread, and honey from my own bees. Slower mornings. Dirt under my nails. Peace.