Before I was a therapist, I would write a lot more. I was the student that would choose a paper over an exam anyday and bluebooks actually brought relief over multiple choice. Writing was never hard for me. In fact, writing was a way for me to put my thoughts somewhere. I wrote in journals throughout high school. I realized that the sooner I got things out of my head and onto paper, the thoughts stopped swirling around, the anger went away, the tears could fall… and then subside. I wrote letters. Letters to my boyfriends, and letters to my friends. I was the ultimate penpal.
Today, I talk. I have my people that I trust myself to be vulnerable with and I get those thoughts out as needed. With those thoughts come my feelings. My naked, vulnerable feelings.
As a therapist, I get to provide that space for people. That safe, protected, accepting space… and then I get to be helpful after that. I offer insights and feedback and validation and suggestions. I bring clarity.
Everyone is an expert about themselves. Everyone is smart. Everyone is rational. But what about those swirling thoughts? What about those things you hate to think about? Or the feelings that wake you up during the night?
I have found that the healthiest people go to therapy and trust the process. It is the bravest, most vulnerable thing you may ever do: To sit on that couch and say things out loud. But in my experience, you leave that room feeling better. And it is my job as your therapist to figure out how.