Today we’d like to introduce you to Cheryl Bentley.
Hi Cheryl, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
My story isn’t exactly brief—it’s layered and continuous, with each chapter flowing into the next. I’m both a psychotherapist and an artist—or rather, an artist and a psychotherapist. I’m never quite sure how to order them because both are so central to how I move through the world.
At three years old, I began ballet. It was a modest start to a lifelong relationship with the arts. From age nine through my late twenties, I was hyper focused on dance (modern, contemporary, ballet, and jazz); it was my sun and my heart. Everything in my life revolved around dancing, so much so, there was never a plan or hope for stability, money, or even family- just a blind devotion to becoming the best dancer I could.
In my mid-twenties during my undergraduate studies at UC Berkeley—I hit an impasse with my dancing. The dance program at Berkeley had lost its rigor, and I found myself suffocating under profound boredom. I made a sudden and total pivot to fine art, which opened a new world for me. I threw myself into drawing, fell in love with visual art and found community among other art kids–something I didn’t have a lot of in dance circles. After earning my BA, I moved to New York for an MFA at NYU where my art practice expanded into sculpture and video work as well furthering my drawing–and eventually back to Los Angeles, searching for a simpler, more sustainable life.
After showing work consistently I once again felt I needed a big shift in my art and my life, I found the gumption to go back to school again—this time to become a psychotherapist. In New York, I had entered trauma therapy myself, where I discovered that healing could be just as creative and transformative as making art. The process changed me completely—emotionally, spiritually, and perceptually. I was hooked and the process of creating myself felt truly radical.
I took a long pause from making art that coincided with COVID and my graduate psychology program. My art had become deeply autobiographical through exploring trauma and transformation and I wanted space to sort out what was next for me. Five years later, I’m now a fully licensed psychotherapist with a private practice in Pasadena—and my art practice has been reborn through oil painting. I wouldn’t have been able to guess 5 years ago I’d be making the type of artwork I’m making now. My paintings are simple and direct in a lot of ways compared to the oblique, enigmatic way I engaged my subject matter previously.I’ve fallen in love with oil painting as a viewer and a maker, in love with the color, the touch of the brush, and the endless possibilities contained in the medium. I have slowly taught myself how to paint by watching YouTube videos. At first I was using single pigment layers and replicating the “Master’s technique” of the Renaissance period in order to learn what I could about the technicality of painting. I was immediately surprised at my skill level however, not to say I have it all figured out–because there is still so much room for me to grow, but Isuspect I was a painter (and a dancer for that matter) in a past life because the painting and me, we just took to each other like glue.
Arriving here has been an incredibly windy path; each step being emblematic of what I was learning to master at that particular stage of my artistic maturation and within my life. Taking on a new career like psychotherapy is not casual and has deeply shaped the contours of my life; equally, my obsession with art as a container for what is felt continues to make and hold shape for my life. Both have a foundation in process and trusting the next right step. Linear growth is an abstract concept applied to our stories, but it’s a construct. Really growth is all over the place and happening in ways we don’t understand until we have hindsight. I think the phrase: When you shine here, it sparkles somewhere else, captures it perfectly.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
The road has been a mix of smooth stretches and rocky, totally unpaved ones. One of my biggest hurdles was overcoming all-or-nothing thinking regarding my identity—that is to say I had to learn to see myself as a person of multiplicity. For a long time, I was afraid to return to school for therapy because I didn’t want to lose my identity as an artist the way I had unceremoniously let go of my dance practice. It took a couple years to truly believe that I didn’t have to abandon one love to make room for another. I could be both.
Another challenge has been expanding upon narrow ideas about what success looks like. There was a tendency to try to shape my path to match what I thought success “should” look like out of fear of getting the whole life project wrong somehow. That makes me laugh now… but it would take me off my center and I’d lose access to my inner compass and ways of knowing. The most meaningful growth has come from allowing my life to unfold in its own design or rhythm—trusting that being fully present in my world brings the greatest integrity and fulfillment moment by moment. One of my favorite mechanisms I use to sort out what to do next is I ask myself: What could I do that would make me proud? I read in an interview that Billie Eillish asks herself that when she’s writing music and I thought that was a fantastic question. I use it in my art and in my therapy practice.
And lastly, practically speaking, it wasn’t until my mid-to-late thirties that I started thinking seriously about stability and structure. After so many years focused purely on art I never cared about “adulting”— that shift was humbling and has been rewarding. As a Capricorn, it feels great to create a home, stability, structure, family (yes, I’m even a Mom now!) and routine.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about Chrysalis Therapy & Painter?
In my therapy practice, I specialize in working with women and creative, sensitive, or “off-center” types. My expertise lies in helping people recover from complex trauma and attachment wounds, though many clients simply come to me when something in their life has stopped working and they need fresh eyes on their situation.
What sets my work apart is the way I relate to clients. I’m both deeply caring and direct. I tell the truth with kindness, even when it’s hard to hear. My clients know I’m in their corner—that I rally for them to help them find their peace and their power. Whether they’re struggling with shame or with the defenses of overinflated self-protection, I’ll be there. Many therapists can help people who feel bad about themselves feel better; but fewer are comfortable helping those who hide behind confidence and ego to soften and reconnect on a real level; I hold space for both.
My therapeutic framework is relational and existential, drawing from Buddhism, feminism, somatics, Internal Family Systems (IFS), and psychodynamic theory. It might sound like a lot, but these modalities beautifully overlap, are informed by one another, and point toward wholeness and authenticity.
I’m currently expanding my offerings to include specialized EMDR and hypnotherapy intensives. My prolonged EMDR sessions already end with a crystal sound bath to induce a relaxed, hypnotic state where new beliefs can take root. Soon, I’ll be adding my full hypnotherapy certification to deepen this work. The results are profound—when we move beyond words and into the body’s natural capacity to heal, something truly magical happens. The body wants to heal; it just needs the space, safety and permission to do so.
In today’s world, many people have developed insight through therapy-related content on social media and the rising collective consciousness around mental health, but without a meaningful therapeutic relationship, that insight stays mostly in the head. It’s hard to integrate that knowledge without a real relationship. Relationships are a powerful crucible for healing, and in therapy that happens through a relationship with your therapist—through being fully seen by someone who you trust and asks for nothing in return. That relationship allows people to practice authenticity and then carry it into the rest of their lives. And when that’s paired with somatic work, healing isn’t just intellectual—it’s embodied. You don’t just know you’ve changed; you feel it when you’re moving through the world.
In my art practice, I’m creating luscious representational oil paintings that feel distinctly feminine and psychological. I work from instinct more than concept and let myself go towards desire and beauty. My daily meditation practice has always been a source of inspiration where I receive images, messages, and intuitive guidance…much of what I paint comes through that channel. My painting studio is a place where I give myself permission to follow what speaks to me on a gut level and trust what is beautiful to me to be enough.
As I build the paintings over time, they take on a psychological charge, although not autobiographical in the literal sense. As I mentioned, in the past, my art centered more directly on personal thoughts, narrative and trauma; now it’s more about the emotional field itself—the felt sense of meaning emerging through the materials, image, gesture, and color.
Another central aspect to my art is the process itself which is slow and deliberate. My painting practice serves as a vessel for mindfulness and devotion to something greater than myself. I use painting to be aware of my thoughts and feelings from the moment I start to mix paint, noticing the colors become alive to moments the brush touches canvas and illusion is created. I want to cultivate even more room to play, between order and spontaneity, what is literal, clear, succinct and a gulf of feeling that is in my body and the body of paint. This too reflects how I’ve come to see myself: not one thing or another, but a living multiplicity—structured and free, grounded and fluid, simultaneously oscillating.
Do you have any advice for those looking to network or find a mentor?
For me, the best mentors and good networking connections have always come from genuine relationships. When you’re in a field that truly excites something within you, connecting with others can actually feel natural and joyful. I believe joy is a wonderful metric to follow; it helps you sense what’s “right” for you and who or what feels aligned.
Personally, I have found my mentors all on “accident” from engaging in things that seemed interesting to me. Mentors also have a way of finding you. A good mentor sees something in you and they appreciate your value. They won’t be shy about letting you know you’re an asset. I really appreciate that aspect of the relationship because they are probably a few steps ahead of you in many ways, so their eyes start to help you see and value yourself better too.
Another thing to keep in mind is that a good mentor has your best interests at heart, but people are complex. I try to stay aware of who I’m seeking support from and what lens or bias they might bring into the conversation. My therapist once told me, and I often tell my clients: you have to know your animal. The same principle applies in mentorship—you need to understand the nature of the person you’re engaging with.
And perhaps most importantly, be brave enough to follow your own instincts. No one will ever understand your path and vision as intimately as you do. The best guidance, whether from a teacher, therapist, or book, ultimately points you back to yourself. The real work is learning to trust that inner compass.
Pricing:
- 225/50 minute individual session, sliding scale available
- 300/60 minute couples session, sliding scale available
- 300/60 minute EMDR, sliding scale available
- $300-$900 paintings on paper
- $3500-$7500 oil paintings on canvas
Contact Info:
- Website: chrysalis-therapy.com, cherylbentley.xyz
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cher_____bear/ & https://www.instagram.com/therapywithcher/,
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cherylsusannebentley/








Image Credits
Paintings by Cheryl Bentley
Photos by Aly Whitman
