So, I said goodbye. At the beginning of this month, I finished therapy. The session was a long one: I asked my therapist if she could just let me stay (in the last session of the day) until I was done, and that when I felt “done”, I would leave. We started at 7pm, and around 9:30pm I felt myself slowing down, pausing. She asked me: “Are you just pausing to think about what you need?” and I found myself calmly replying: “I don’t need anything.”
I don’t need anything.
It was a strange feeling to realise that I enjoy talking to her, love being in her company, delight in receiving her love and attention and care … but that I don’t need her anymore. The beginning of this year was tough, not least that we were in the middle of the pandemic. In Germany at least, things have eased up slowly (for now). I got my vaccination and I feel safer. My mental health has had its ups and downs over the last year, but in general I have felt competent, stable, and like I built up the skills to look after myself. Therapy was becoming exhausting, it felt stalled in some way, or like I needed to take a break, take space, explore my independence. I just had a feeling in myself that I needed to move on, or move into something new.
And now, it has been about 3 weeks since I finished. I wrote her a quick note when my daughter began school, just to say “Look at my daughter! Look how well she is doing, how beautiful we are!”. I love sharing my joy, after years spent sobbing my eyes out in therapy. Sharing my joy with my therapist feels like taking pride in my own progress. She replied happily, taking pride and joy in my happiness, too.
I almost don’t know what to do anymore. Do I just go and live my life? How can I ever look at life the same way, after going through such a transformative process?
I feel almost stunned. What comes next in the adventure?