Dominique Caesar

A conversation with Dominique Caesar

• What led you to choose psychotherapy or counselling as a profession?

  To be honest, I didn’t start out thinking I’d end up in this field! I studied classics at university and later trained as a high school teacher - two paths that felt intellectually stimulating but ultimately didn’t quite align with my deeper passions. Over time, though, I realised how much I loved working one-on-one with people, listening deeply, and helping them make sense of their experiences. That’s when I began to see the potential for a career rooted in connection and understanding.
  
  As an autistic, trans, and queer person who consciously tries to live outside societal norms, I’ve experienced firsthand what it’s like to navigate systems not built for people like me. These experiences have shaped my perspective and driven me toward work centred on justice, equity, and human rights. I wanted to create a space where others who feel similarly marginalised could feel truly seen and supported - not just in their individual struggles but also within the broader context of systemic oppression.
  
  I became a social worker specifically because of its inherent commitment to social justice and systemic reform. I was tired of professions that framed challenges solely as personal failings rather than recognising the role of larger systems in shaping people’s lives. Social work gave me the tools to address both individual needs and systemic barriers, which felt like a more holistic way to support people.
  
  Ultimately, my journey into counselling is deeply personal. It’s about meeting others who may share similar experiences of navigating marginalisation, identity, and resilience - and offering them a space to explore their truths authentically, without judgment.

• Which philosophical approaches have influenced your professional development?

  My professional development has been deeply shaped by a mix of personal lived experience and political philosophies that centre justice, equity, and collective care. As an autistic, queer, and trans person, I’m committed to neuroaffirming and queer-affirming practices - approaches that reject pathologising or "fixing" people and instead celebrate their identities and experiences. These frameworks are non-negotiable in my work because they honour the dignity and autonomy of those I support (and affirm my own identity!).
  
  I’m also driven by principles of social justice and systemic analysis, which stem from my belief that many struggles aren’t personal failings but rather the result of oppressive systems. This perspective is influenced by anarchism and the understanding that mutual aid, collective support, and grassroots efforts can create meaningful change where traditional systems often fail. The idea that “the personal is political” resonates strongly with me - I see how individual challenges connect to broader societal injustices, and I bring this lens into my practice.
  
  Pragmatism plays a big role too. While I care deeply about systemic critique, I’m equally focused on finding practical, actionable solutions to the problems people face. Whether it’s navigating complex systems like the NDIS or Centrelink, advocating for workplace accommodations, or building tools for self-advocacy, I aim to empower people with tangible strategies they can use in their daily lives.
  
  Finally, I’m drawn to working with people who are politically and socially motivated - those who understand the interconnectedness of personal liberation and collective justice. My practice is rooted in relational depth and peer principles, such as Intentional Peer Support, which emphasise mutuality, trust, and collaboration over hierarchy. At its core, my work is about creating spaces where people feel seen, supported, and equipped to thrive on their own terms while challenging the systems that hold us all back.

• Which particular aspects of health or the human journey are you interested in?

  I’m most interested in the parts of the human journey that don’t fit neatly into clinical boxes. My focus is on non-clinical, peer-based approaches that honour people’s lived experiences rather than trying to “fix” them. I believe real change happens through trust, mutual understanding, and taking the time to get to know someone slowly - not rushing toward solutions.
  
  As an autistic person, I value exploring how neurodivergent ways of connecting and being in the world can shape our experiences. Neurodivergence isn’t something to be “overcome”; it’s a valuable lens through which we see and interact with the world. Whether it’s unpacking burnout, navigating identity, or finding strategies that actually work for your brain, I approach this work with curiosity and respect for what makes each person unique.
  
  Trans-affirming care is also central to my practice. I understand the importance of creating space where people can explore their identities without judgment or pressure - whether that’s about relationships, transitions, or simply existing as your whole self.
  
  Ultimately, I’m drawn to supporting people as they navigate systems that weren’t built for them. This includes advocating for systemic changes while helping individuals build tools to survive (and thrive!) in environments that often feel hostile. My goal is always practical: how do we create sustainable, meaningful shifts that align with your values and needs?
  
  At the heart of it all, I care deeply about connection - how we relate to ourselves, others, and the world around us. Whether you’re unraveling complex systems, rebuilding after burnout, or just trying to exist authentically, I’ll meet you where you’re at with warmth, pragmatism, and a commitment to justice.

• What methods do you use?

  My methods are rooted in collaboration, authenticity, and a deep respect for your lived experience. I take an eclectic, non-clinical approach that blends evidence-based practices with peer principles and systemic awareness. Here’s how it looks in practice:
  
  Neuroaffirming care: I prioritise understanding your neurotype and work with your brain (not against it). Whether you’re exploring identity, unmasking, or navigating burnout, we’ll focus on strategies that honour your unique needs and strengths.
  
  Relational depth: Real change happens through trust, not checklists. I take the time to get to know you as a whole person, meeting you where you’re at without assumptions or judgement.
  
  Anti-oppressive practice: Systems often create barriers, not people. Together, we’ll name injustices and navigate them while centring your agency and resilience, and acknowledging intersecting identities.
  
  Peer principles: Drawing on frameworks like Intentional Peer Support, my approach emphasises mutuality, connection, and empowerment. You’re not just a client - I’m here as a collaborator.
  
  Trauma-informed and strengths-based approaches: I focus on your inherent strengths and resources, helping you build tools to thrive while acknowledging the impact of trauma and systemic harm.
  
  Practical problem-solving: From navigating complex systems like the NDIS, Centrelink, housing, education, or workplaces to advocating for yourself in challenging environments, I offer pragmatic solutions tailored to your goals.
  
  Narrative therapy and self-advocacy: We’ll explore how narratives shape your experiences and co-create new stories that affirm who you are. Building self-advocacy skills is often central to this work.
  
  Ultimately, my methods are flexible and guided by what works best for you. Whether you need one-off support to troubleshoot a specific issue or ongoing collaboration to unpack deeper challenges, we’ll find a rhythm and approach that feels right.

• When do you think the client will start to feel that progress is being made?

  
  Progress often begins when people feel truly seen, heard, and understood - when they realise they’re not alone in their struggles. For many people I work with, this happens early on, often during our initial sessions. Building trust and creating a safe space where you can show up authentically is foundational to my practice, and many folks report feeling relief or hope simply from having someone who “gets it.”
  
  That said, progress looks different for everyone. Some people notice shifts quickly, like gaining clarity about their needs or feeling empowered to take small but meaningful steps toward change. Others may experience progress more gradually, as we unpack systemic barriers, explore identity, or develop tools to navigate burnout or distress.
  
  For neurodivergent people, progress might feel like finally finding strategies that actually work for their brain or beginning to unmask in spaces where they’ve always felt pressured to conform. For those navigating systemic challenges, it might come from successfully advocating for themselves or feeling equipped to challenge unjust structures.
  
  Ultimately, I believe progress isn’t linear - it’s about noticing moments of growth, connection, or insight along the way. Together, we’ll celebrate even the smallest wins because they often lead to bigger changes over time. My role is to walk alongside you, offering support and practical tools while honouring your unique pace and journey.

• How has therapy made a difference in your life?

  To be honest, I’m not what you’d call a “model client.” I often resist traditional therapeutic approaches - CBT? Let’s just say it’s not my jam (even though I occasionally, begrudgingly, admit that it's useful!) As an autistic person, I can really struggle with neurotypical ways of framing or processing things, and many mainstream methods just don’t resonate with me. Therapy hasn’t always been easy, but when it works, it’s transformative.
  
  What’s made the difference for me is finding therapists who see me as a whole person - not just a set of symptoms or problems. The ones who honour my messiness, my unique ways of processing, and my resistance to “neat” solutions have been the most impactful. They’ve created space for me to explore the world on my own terms, without judgment or pressure to conform to someone else’s idea of progress.
  
  Therapy has given me room to process experiences in ways that feel authentic to me. It’s helped me untangle systemic barriers, navigate identity, and find clarity about what I need to thrive. Most importantly, it’s reminded me that there’s no “right” way to do therapy - or to exist in the world.

• What do you like most about being a therapist?

  What I love most about my role is the opportunity to think outside the box and build meaningful connections with people who are navigating life in ways that don’t fit societal norms. There’s something deeply rewarding about sharing experiences, exploring identities, and co-creating solutions that honour individuality rather than conformity.
  
  I’m also driven by the bigger picture - thinking about the kind of world and community I want to live in, and how I can consciously contribute to it through my work. Supporting activists, creatives, and folks who are trying to live thoughtfully and give back to their communities feels like an extension of that idea. It’s about more than just individual growth; it’s about collective care and liberation.
  
  On a personal level, I value the freedom to work in ways that align with my neurodivergence. By embracing my own rhythm and needs, I can create a practice that not only works *for me* but also models what it looks like to live authentically. This allows me to show up fully for others, meeting them where they’re at with honesty, creativity, and pragmatism.

• Do you ever have 'bad hair' days?

  Literally? Not really - thanks to my shaved head, bad hair days aren’t really in the cards for me! But figuratively? Absolutely. Like anyone else, I have days where things feel harder, where I’m more tired, more sensitive to sensory input, or slower to process information. As an autistic person, these ups and downs are just part of life, and I think it’s important to be open about them.
  
  I see these “bad days” not as something to hide but as an opportunity to model authenticity - for myself and for the people I work with. They’re a reminder that being human (and neurodivergent) means having variability in how we show up in the world. Some days are smoother than others, and that’s okay. In fact, it’s more than okay - it’s normal!
  
  For me, these moments are a chance to practice what I encourage in others: self-compassion, flexibility, and the understanding that struggling doesn’t mean you’re failing. It’s all part of the journey, and sometimes, it’s on the tough days that we learn the most about ourselves.

• What do you think is the most significant problem we face, in the world today?

  I baulked at this question... I don't know if it's possible to answer, but I tip my hat to all the therapists on here who have tried!
  
  But seriously, if I had to pick one overarching issue, it’s this: the systems we’ve built often devalue what makes us human - our differences, our creativity, our messiness. Whether it’s ableism, imperialism, transphobia, racism, or classism, these structures thrive on conformity and exclusion, leaving so many people feeling like they don’t belong. And when you add in things like climate change, late-stage capitalism, and the endless churn of bureaucracy… Well, it’s no wonder so many of us are overwhelmed.
  
  That said, the flip side of all this is that we're incredibly resilient, resourceful, and good at finding connection, even in the messiest of times. Every day, I see people challenging these systems, building communities, and creating spaces where authenticity and care come first.
  
  So, while I can’t pinpoint *the* most significant problem (because honestly, who can?), I know that fostering collective care, justice, and mutual support is a pretty solid place to start.