Life as a therapist

The consulting room is a crowded space.

I look out of my window and see figures. People who can’t wait to be heard and seen. People who are wounded, curious and misunderstood. People who have never known the touch of love, people who are afraid to come clean on who they love, and people who have stopped loving the ones they live with long ago.

The consulting room is a crowded space.

It houses all the clients who chose to take me along with them in their journey to heal. It holds their heavy hearts, grief, and tears. It holds reluctance, second thoughts, and fear. It holds loss, sadness and confusion. It hums the voices of those who have pushed them to be here and the ones they wish to go home to. It holds the silence and awkwardness of being in the room with many others who are unable to voice out the courage to ask each other for help, but nod in agreement that life isn’t fair.

The consulting room is a crowded space.

The corners hold my self-doubt, my fear of incompetence and abandonment. The room screams of anxiety of inadequacy, conflicting values and unpolished skills. I hear relentless thoughts on theories, concepts and my dilemma on truths that cease when I strain my ears. The space blinds me with my own past, my unmet needs, my mistakes and my unwavering sense of unworthiness.

The consulting room is a crowded space.

But I see the walls resonating resilience. I see the floor echoing hope. I see willingness, efforts and time chosen, handpicked in fact, by many who wish to better their lives and the lives of others. I see second chances, big dreams and strong wills of those who have desired change. The bricks reverberate the voices of my supportive peers, my inspiring mentors and my own vulnerability and kindness.

I take a moment to breathe and take in the sight. It’s a new day and I am not ready. But I step out into the room nevertheless with a smile.