Last week My Love and I began therapy together. I realized how important it was for the two of us to be as strong as possible as we enter into this new season – one that will be full of hard conversations and could be marked as one of the most difficult times we’ve ever faced. The need was great for she and I to talk about the issues buried underneath so much and learn how to effectively handle conflict as well as areas we can better communicate, both to one another and to our loved ones. Luckily My Love was brave and understanding and jumped into the process with me.
We poured over numerous profiles online, trying to identify the “perfect” therapist. We wrote a whole bunch, screening them and liked T based on her response, part of which is included below.
“What an exciting time for you both, I would be honored to help you navigate through this season!”
It’s exciting? The shame, the grief, the torment is exciting? No, but the thought of leaving all that behind is. The idea of getting to look My Love in the eyes and tell her how beautiful she is without wondering who may see us is exciting. Getting to find her soft hand in the movie theater is exciting. Allowing each other to celebrate our anniversary in big ways is exciting. As is so much more.
T gets it. She was, in fact, the first person we told our secret to, this carefully protected, sacred secret and she recognized it and honored it. In our first meeting with her as we verbally vomited our story, she met us with grace and understanding and shock at how we’ve made it this long. When we tell her the great lengths we go to in secret-keeping, she is literally floored at how we’ve been able to keep it together for this long and acknowledges the mental strain alone to function in two parallel worlds. She identified the toll this has taken on us and that most of why we’ve kept our secret for so long is because we are so worried of letting our families down – of being yet another thing bringing brokenness within the family structure we’ve come from.
She fills our time with a good amount of admonition and praise for us having made it this far. When doing so, I note how My Love and I usually sit there, quiet, just soaking it in. Receiving these kind words in a sea of judgment. Allowing our ears to hear positive things and believe them deep down in our belly as we’ve known all along that she’s right but somehow the message got convoluted and we stopped believing a long time ago.
When therapy night comes around, we are excited – knowing there’s work to be done but that it’s good work. We are realizing how much we’re benefiting from our time with T each week and how we have at least one ally in this big world who accepts us and wants to see what beautiful things My Love and I can do together.