This is the start of a journey – possibly. I don’t like to commit out of fear that I won’t be able to
live up to expectations. While this mindset is the wrong one, by most accounts, it is part of the reason
why I am here. Now is the time to push the boundaries and see what happens. Just because it hurts or is
uncomfortable, doesn’t always mean that it is wrong or bad. It just is.
I have been in therapy since October of 2022. It has been hard, rewarding, frustrating, and a
whole host of other things. Every single session I have either learned something new about myself, or
was inspired by a new idea on how to view myself and how I exist in the world. There are so many
aspects of who I am that has changed in that time, and so many more that I haven’t even scratched the
surface on.
I have a fondness for writing and an affection for reading. Often, it has been far easier to express
myself through writing than verbally. I’m not quite sure what the difference is. Maybe seeing the lines
makes it more tangible – the emotions, that is. They can sometimes be fleeting or come in so many
waves that I cannot see or feel them all. I know they are there. I just can’t seem to put them together in
order. Once my therapist found that this was helpful, she has tasked me here and there with small
writing homework assignments.
Attending therapy for an hour once a week means nothing if you aren’t going to take what you
learned and put it into practice. I feel as though it is very intentional. Every day is a choice to do an
action or not do an action to continue on the path to the person you want to me. Every interaction,
every phone call, every sentence I use, I try to be the person that I desire to be mentally and
emotionally. With that, here we are.
I was tasked with a homework assignment that, until now, I have not tackled. It has been about
two weeks and I am struggling with it. She asked, “What is your purpose.” I have no response to that. I
have been trying and trying to find it. Here we are though, days later in the same place. I have no idea. I
do not understand why any of us are put here or how all of this humanity is supposed to go.
There are times where the existential aspect of this question takes over. It renders the idea of
God, the universe, our impact on the world, is there such a thing as the right way or wrong way to do
something, why do bad things happen, and on and on. While existential isn’t necessarily bad, it has been
a place where I lived and could not leave. It should be like a library, not a holding cell. You shouldn’t
need the right answer in order to leave. I was stuck there. On occasion, I still get stuck there, albeit far
less often. Through some trial and error, I found that this method helps unlock the door and let me out.
All of the mental whirlwind and chaos has a place. It can be heard, and then it can be shelved, here on
the lines of this paper. It can be revisited, but doesn’t need to live inside me. It has its own space, and I
have mine.
My therapist, let’s call her Gaia, asked me one day, “If you could live your perfect life, what
would that look like?” Easy! I would own a book shop in some small coastal town with amazing bread
and coffee, with a mountain cabin as my refuge. No big deal, right?!
While that is the largest dream I could muster, there is also another. To write. And actually make
money. Ha! That might actually be more unrealistic that the stories I conjure, if we are being honest. I
can’t help it though. It has built inside of me for so long, and now, it seems like it wants to be free. Will it
be any good? I don’t believe so. Gaia says this is self-esteem talking. Low self-esteem. Be it that, or fear,
I just have never been able to do it. Until now.
That is how I got here, on this page, doing the thing that scares me the most. I am publicly
writing. It is subject to someone coming across it and ripping it to shreds. It is subject to critique and
criticism. It is subject to someone saying how utterly awful my writing is and they cannot even believe
that I would post something publicly. Here we are though, doing it anyway.
I decided that this is how I will start the next phase. We will be working on self-esteem in this
part of my journey. We will be working on me helping myself get to where I feel I would be happiest. It is
practice in writing, to see if this is really just a fantasy, or something I actually want to fulfill. This is
hoping that no one actually ever comes across it and just my therapist will see my madness. Maybe, just
maybe, there is someone who will find it and think to themselves, “Wow. I thought it was just me.”
I still have no idea what my purpose is. This might be one that we come back to again and again.
I do know that right now, what I want to do is feel relief. I want to quiet the noise and give it its own
home. I want to honor it, but I need a break from it. I want to be friends with it, but not feel obligated to
it. I guess then, the purpose of right now, is to see what happens when I do something scary. To see
what happens if I take a chance on myself. We will see how it goes.