I showed up 15 minutes early, in true Kaila fashion. I wasn't sure what paperwork would need filling out or logistics we would need to talk through. So, in my peaceful-anxious state (yes I felt both simultaneously), I showed up early.
I was greeted by the friendliest, down-to-earth therapist I have ever known (I've known two others). I knew just a couple of things about her from her website but wouldn't know if we would click until after our first session. She has her own private practice so her space was decorated exactly how she wanted it; warm, dark blues, creams, greenery, cute accented throw pillows, and a white marble side table that became the permanent residence of the box of Kleenex that sat there. I expressed how cozy and homey it all felt and she replied with, "That's the goal!"
We were learning we had some core things in common; mission work, Bible school, Jesus, full-time ministry, and empathy. We relished in our commonalities until my tears came and flowed freely. I had just met this woman 40 minutes ago and here I was, on her dark blue couch, tears rolling down my cheeks. (Thank the Lord for that box of Kleenex). She looked at me with the utmost of empathy and compassion. It wasn't something I just saw in her eyes...I felt it. She was hurting with me. She was grieving with me. She had compassion for me when I didn't have any for myself. I felt my shoulders loosen, my body at ease, and my emotions not judged. I felt safe.
My therapist is both clinical and faith-based (Spirit-led). She explains the psychology behind things and provides me with great tools for navigating various situations. She also leaves room for the Holy Spirit to lead her as she listens to me. I so value this about her [private] practice.
Our conversation started with the main reason I was there; the one specific event that left me angry and confused. The more we talked through and slowly digested the trauma, the more parts of the same trauma began to unearth themselves; either from similar experiences several years ago, or similar experiences from childhood. She equated the things I was describing to hundreds of little paper cuts. There's a bunch of them, and it was going to take work, compassion, patience, and time to address them.
We addressed the whole of why I was there but then we began to dig up the parts...the paper cuts; the parts that needed tending to, verbalized, healing, and truth spoken into outside of my own head. She's really good at that! So good, in fact, she knows when my mind is swirling without me verbalizing it and simply asks with a smile on her face, "Whatcha thinkin' over there" like she's known me for years.
Parts.
Pieces.
Areas.
We don't want to address these...usually. We want to just fix the "one problem" without going deeper and getting to the root. I am so guilty of that..hence why I will be seeing my therapist for the rest of my life.
I was slowly starting to learn through my time with her that this was about more than just the isolated incident I initially came to see her for. This was going to change everything; my thinking, processing, coping mechanisms, emotions, boundaries, relationships, and walk with Jesus. This was going to change my literal life, and not just as a whole but each individual part that would rather stay hidden.
Naming. It's a powerful tool that I do not give enough credit.
She dispells the darkness with me as I say the things on my heart and put a name to them. Out loud. Through tears.
We ended the session with her saying, "I'm guessing you feel like we are a good fit and you want to continue meeting?"
And this was just the first session.
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