I am no expert on the topic of therapy, let me be clear. I wrote 3 blogs on my journey with therapy and what led me to that point. The things I share both on here and on Instagram are my journey and I know not all of you have had positive experiences (I am so sorry) or any experience with seeing a therapist (it's okay!). This has been one of the biggest, hardest, healthiest journeys I have taken within the last year. I write this last therapy blog is to give you hope.
My hope is that if you are in therapy, you'll continue as you need it and be able to trace the threads of grace and healing as you look back and reflect.
My hope is that if you are not currently in therapy, this last blog would make going feel less scary and shed light on why I continue to show up and sit on her dark blue couch for an hour every other week. (Let's be honest...I'd pay her daily if I could lol.)
I keep showing up to therapy for many reasons. Here are a few:
Name my feelings in the presence of someone who is safe. She lives out Romans 12:15 so beautifully.
Have a licensed and trained therapist help me untangle the complicated that goes on inside my brain, and to have her give me tools to feel less stuck.
To be heard, seen, and known unashamedly; to let her challenge my thinking or come alongside me and affirm it.
I have been consistently going for 6 months. This is the longest stretch of time I've ever seen a therapist.
Nothing huge and profound happens every time I show up. The days I think I'm going to have a huge breakthrough in one area ends up being the day that opens up 10 other layers, to which I have homework to unpack further. The days I think are going to be casual and just processing an isolated event end up being actual healing breakthroughs and many tears in her presence; she's often misty-eyed with me. So I guess both scenarios are huge and profound because healing is still taking place!
I guess what I'm trying to communicate is that therapy isn't this huge scary thing where you're lying in the fetal position on the floor every session. It's not a meeting with a person who wears black skirts, heels, and pearls, has no feelings, and writes down everything you say on a mysterious legal-sized pad you never see.
It's a real person with real feelings and emotions (likes yours) who has been trained to help people through a WIDE variety of things (trauma, anxiety, ptsd, abuse, depression, divorce, death, etc.), and gifts you with their presence and knowledge in the process. It's a real person who cares about the one sitting across from them. It's a real person who has to keep a notebook for not just you but all of their other clients, to be able to jot down patterns of thinking, themes, significant conversations, and follow-up questions.
I keep showing up to work on my stuff (past, present, and future) and to receive tools and care to be a healthier and more whole me. I keep showing up because the work I am doing on myself affects those in proximity to me (family, co-workers, and friends). I keep showing up because I feel deeply and just want/need to be heard, affirmed, and sometimes challenged (thank you 10 year old Kaila for revealing that to 31 year old me).
"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." (Romans 12:15).
My therapist undeniably lives this out in every session I have with her. If nothing else, I show up because I know she's in my corner; rejoicing and weeping with me as I unearth it all.
I keep showing up and she does too. I am eternally grateful.
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