It’s January again, and I don’t mean to nag, but the thought of you forgetting my name breaks my fucking heart.
Maybe there’s nothing beautiful here. Maybe there never was.
Loneliness will set up camp in the walls of your soul and give new meaning to a feeling you thought you’d known before.
You are going to wait for the day when you can be proud.
In my story, I pour my own coffee and I sit outside with a book. I learn to be still. I learn to grow into the space that you used to occupy.
To the women who’ve chosen me, who’ve pushed me to grow, who’ve motivated me and encouraged me, and who’ve shown me what it means to be a friend, a sister, a daughter, and a woman, this is for you.
The human connection – the relationship between a therapist and a client – that is why we do this.
Remember: Self-love doesn’t have a finish line.
Feelings are not facts.
There is not one single class in the next four years that will teach you how to say goodbye, though I wish that was a prerequisite for adolescence.