Everyone Needs Therapy

Yes, Even You

I was 19 years old, sitting in yet another doctor’s office waiting to be told why I was in near-constant pain. The paper gown felt as thin as my skin as I huddled there hoping for answers. My mother hovered nearby, as anxious for answers as I was. The doctor stepped in with the chart and asked a couple of questions before asking my mother to allow us to chat privately.

He waited for my mother to leave the room, and the questions changed. For the first time in my memory, a doctor was taking my emotional temperature. It was the first time any doctor suggested that perhaps my constant stomach pain wasn’t evidence of a physical malady. When he suggested that I should see a therapist, time stopped.

At least, time stopped for me. His mouth kept moving, words tripping out as his pen moved steadily across the notepad, names and numbers of potential therapists jotted down and held toward me. Time resumed, and I reached for it. I was afraid, but for the first time, I felt a little something like hope. Maybe the answers were somewhere else.

I spent a year in therapy. In one year, we deconstructed my life and found a way to put it back together better. By the end of the year, the chronic stomach pain was gone. I won’t say my life was perfect. In fact, the changes that came with therapy made a lot of people in my life angry and confused. But for the first time, I wasn’t hurting, and I was closer to being happy than I’d ever been.

My therapist was the first person who told me that I didn’t have to be perfect.

She was the first person in my life to come right out and say that maybe I am good enough as I am. Working with her was a revelation because she was able to show me how I had been participating in some of the very things I hated. With that knowledge, I was able to remove myself from toxic ways of being. I began to learn about a healthier and far happier way of living.

I may have spent only a year sitting across from my therapist, but I’ve never stopped returning to those sessions.

They have been a guiding force in my life, one that has helped me shoulder some of the toughest moments. It didn’t save me from a bad marriage, but it gave me coping skills to get through it. It didn’t keep me from making bad choices, but it helped me be able to admit them later and learn from them. It stayed with me, a small voice in the back of my mind. It’s with me even now.

I’ve never stopped going to therapy, really. While I only saw a therapist for a year in sessions, the lessons have stayed with me. I keep going back to them. But more, I keep practicing them. Lessons aren’t useful to learn if we don’t actually apply them to our lives.

An uncomfortable conversation with a family member used to leave me wrecked.

Now, I can hear my therapist’s voice suggesting that I read Emotional Blackmail and Boundaries. I remember those books and what they taught me. I hold onto my boundaries, and I don’t allow myself to be manipulated by others. I stand firm because my therapist once thought that these books would help.

Years later, they’re still helping.

A day when I was completely depleted reminded me of the importance of self-care and of balance.

Balance, in particular, was one of the primary lessons I’d gotten from therapy. Physical exhaustion is just a reminder that I need to practice more balance to make sure that I’m getting the rest I need.

I can still see my therapist drawing a square on a whiteboard. Each side was an area of my life. I needed to cultivate each area evenly to maintain balance. Was I doing that? No, I wasn’t- then. Some days, I still fail to maintain the balance. But I see the square drawn in my memories, and I am reminded to take the time to make sure to find balance.

In so many areas of my life, the lessons I learned in therapy come back to me, and I practice them. It wasn’t just about figuring out how to deal with stress and not be in physical pain. It was about making my life better- for the rest of my life, not just during the time I spent in therapy.

There are so many good reasons to go to a therapist outside of any personal crisis.

It helps us to see our lives from an outside perspective. All the things we’ve normalized are seen clearly, and we can learn how to break toxic cycles. We can use the newfound insight to revolutionize our relationships — disconnecting from unhealthy patterns and nurturing healthy relationships. We can learn how to live full lives and not just fantasize about how we could if only.

If only is a popular crutch. We can go years trying to wait for the perfect circumstances to live our lives the way we want. Or we can go to therapy and put the work into making them what we want.

I’ve never quit therapy, and I never will.

I haven’t felt the need to go back to a counselor, but that could always change. I wouldn’t rule it out. I’ve made the most of that one year, and I’ll keep using it to make me better, to remind me that I am worthy of love and kindness, and to keep my relationships healthy.

As a former therapist myself, it seems natural that I would continue to advocate for others to seek counseling. But at 19, I wasn’t a therapist. I wasn’t even a psychology major yet. I was just a young woman who couldn’t understand that some pain won’t just disappear with a round of medication. I was a young woman needing desperately to feel loved and accepted with no idea how to make that happen. I was just another human being, suffering because I didn’t know how to make the suffering stop.

So when I say that everyone should go to therapy and never stop, I’m not saying it as the former therapist. I’m saying it as the woman that 19-year-old grew up to be.

Therapy isn’t just for times of crisis.

It’s not because we’re crazy or weak or can’t cope with life. Therapy exists because we’re human. We’ll never see our lives as clearly as someone on the outside. Therapy is important because our lives aren’t supposed to be about collecting paychecks and paying bills until we die. Life is meant to be lived and to be filled with love and happiness, not obligations and guilt and a nagging sense of inadequacy.

Maybe our insurance will only give us a few short sessions. Maybe all we can do is attend free group counseling or read self-help books we’ve heard about. If we want to change our lives and not just talk about changing our lives, we have to start today. With a book ordered or the first session scheduled. We need to start right now.

Whatever way we can source therapy, we can make the most of it. We can grow- and never stop growing. We can learn- and never stop learning.

I went to therapy for one year when I was 19. I’ve never stopped showing up for myself, using those lessons learned to make my life better. I never will. It’s too important.

I used to live my life wishing for when things would be better, so sure that I would be happier then. Now I know that there is only now. This moment.

I don’t need to call up my former therapist to hear her tell me that. She told it to me in so many ways that it just exists inside my head now. I’ll keep returning to those lessons for the rest of my life because life is far too short to be anything other than truly ourselves and deeply happy.

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