Letter From A Therapist

To the Client I Haven’t Met Yet,

You’ve probably spent much of your life mentally shouldering responsibility for yourself and others. When a conversation feels awkward, you likely hear every shift in tone, every flicker of discomfort on the other person’s face. You leave, replaying the moment in your mind, dissecting it, as if the solution lies in tweaking one tiny detail.

You’ve probably tied yourself in knots, trying to solve interpersonal problems in your mind, imagining both sides of the conversation to figure out how to be heard while empathizing with the other person. When you do speak your feelings with a friend or significant other, it’s often either too careful or too explosive. You might look at people who speak their mind freely and think they’re admirable aliens—while, most of the time, feeling alien yourself.

Dear client, I understand you want to finally be able to answer the question “so what do you do for fun?” with confidence—but maybe you struggle to settle on a singular passion, a hobby, a calling. You flit from one interest to another, as though trying to grasp the elusive essence of your own heart, only to find it slipping through your fingers again and again.

I know you can take on the world alone, but when it comes to collaborating with someone else—the very thing you long for—you feel lost. And, yes, people are, at times, profoundly intimidating.

And here is what I want you to hear:

Your Emotions Are a Compass, Not a Burden

Your emotions are not "too much," even though I understand why it sometimes feels that way. Emotions are your body’s way of giving you important information. If you ignore them, they’ll come out sideways because they’re meant to be heard and felt. Instead of pushing them aside, try letting them out through the front door. Your body has ways of speaking that your mind cannot always explain. Let yourself feel your emotions before you attempt to understand them.

Feel, Don’t Just Think

The mind has a way of overcomplicating feelings, building stories that only distance us from what we’re actually experiencing. Let me offer this: remove the narrative. Instead of thinking, “I can’t believe that man cut me in line and grabbed the last bagel. What makes him think he has the right?” pause and ask, “What am I feeling? I am angry. I feel disrespected. I feel small.” Name the emotion itself, without the drama of the story. You do not need the story. You only need the truth of what is alive in you, right here, right now.

Your Needs Are Valid, Not Excessive (I'm not just saying this because I'm a therapist)

You don’t need to figure out both sides of the conversation. Instead, focus your energy on identifying your own needs. What do you want? What’s your desired outcome, your longing? Not how your needs fit with someone else’s, but what you genuinely need.

Your needs are valid.

Yes, they are valid.I’ll say it again: your needs are valid.

And once you’ve identified them, you can name them plainly. There is no need for excess or justification. You can say, simply and clearly, what you require, and in doing so, you give yourself permission to exist fully in the conversation.

Conflict Can Be a Portal, Not a Threat

Here’s a tough one: You are safe, even if your needs conflict with someone else’s. If you’re in danger then the advice here does not apply. But if it’s discomfort—a spasm of fear when disagreement rises—let it pass. Conflict does not need to be destructive. It can deepen the roots of a relationship, giving it space to grow into something more honest, more real.

Anger does not spell the end of connection. Anger, in its healthiest form, is a boundary—an honest, visceral expression of the self. You can feel anger without shutting down. You can feel it and remain present. You can listen to someone else’s anger without hearing, “You are wrong,” or “I can’t stand you.” You can stand there, in the tension of it, and be whole. Conflict can be uncomfortable, but it doesn’t have to be catastrophic.

Both Can Be True

Remember, both feelings can be true—yours and theirs. Your emotions are valid, and theirs are too.

You Don’t Need One Singular Hobby

And, by the way, you don’t need just one hobby! If you enjoy trying new things, give yourself permission to keep exploring. Maybe your hobby is learning new things!

Speak Your Need, Not Your Complaint

It’s not enough to just point out what someone does that makes you feel bad. You need to dig deeper to find out what you need. For example, instead of saying, “You don’t call me enough,” say, “I’d like you to call me more.” The specificity of your request is an act of vulnerability, of self-trust. The more you do it, the more your body will trust you to speak up on behalf of you, which will make you more confident and less dependent on others.

Some People May Not Meet Your Needs

Here’s an uncomfortable one: Some people will not be able to meet your needs. You’ll express them, and they may not be willing or able to meet them. That doesn’t mean you were “too needy” or asking for too much. If your needs aren’t being met, you can choose to compromise or move on—but you weren’t wrong for having needs. At the end of it all, the confidence you crave will not come from another but it beats within you, a whisper an inkling,

Hold Fast to Hope

I know it’s easier to assume that things will always stay the way they’ve been, but change is possible. Keep doing these steps, keep seeing a therapist, and you’ll see your relationships transform. It doesn’t have to be a “me or them” situation. You can safely coexist with others—whether in friendship, romance, or intimacy. I hope in time you will see that your sensitivity is a medicine so deeply needed in this world.

And in the end, there is hope. It does not always march boldly forward but lingers like a song, ever present, even when we cannot hear it clearly.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all. — Emily Dickinson

Hope…perches in the soul and sings its song, even when it’s hard to hear, even when you don’t know how to make the words come. But it’s always there, waiting for you to hear it. — Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

In hope,

Rebecca