Years Later

Today a memory from our very first session together flooded into my mind. There is grief that comes with the memory because I can recognize the care, the nurturance, and the compassion you offered me. Not only in that session, but in every session.

The grief comes from a few different places. I genuinely just miss you and many things about you. It also comes from recognizing, not for the first time but with more embodiment than I’ve ever felt before, how much you offered me that I couldn’t receive in the moment. Even though I couldn’t fully take it in then, it stayed with me, and I can feel it now. Not just understand it, but actually feel it. Years later.

Our work mattered to me, and it impacted me in ways that are only now beginning to reach me. Thank you for all of the care and work you put into helping me. Thank you for giving me the gift of knowing what it feels like to be cared for.

Author’s Note:

It’s been a while since I felt the urge to write to her this strongly. This letter is about my first therapist.

Letting it live here feels like a way to honor the work we did, the impact it had on me, and the boundaries that have remained since therapy ended.