How I Work HOW I WORK

I believe people can change. Sometimes that change is enormous. Sometimes it's one millimetre, and one millimetre can be a lot.

But I don't think change is necessarily the point of therapy.

I think there's something important about returning.

Week after week, we come back. We sit together with the hard questions, the hurt, the things that haven't been resolved. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we cry. Sometimes we're angry. Sometimes we don't have much to say at all.

And sometimes we ask the same questions we've asked before.

There's a story from psychotherapy research that has stayed with me. A woman was struggling with her relationship with God. Her therapist invited her to imagine God sitting in an empty chair and to ask him the questions she had been carrying.*

What matters to me about that story isn't whether God answered. It's that someone made room for the questions and stayed with her while she asked them.

I think therapy can be like that.

We don't always get answers. The hurt doesn't always go away. Life doesn't necessarily become easier, and not every story has a beautiful ending.

But we can keep returning.

And this isn't something I ask you to do alone.

I return, too. As your therapist, my part is to keep showing up, to listen, to remain curious, and to sit alongside you with things we may not know how to resolve. I won't always have an answer. Sometimes I won't know what to do next. But we can keep thinking, questioning, and finding our way together.

Sometimes something changes. Sometimes it doesn't.

And sometimes, in the act of returning together, we find that something has shifted by just one millimetre.

The return itself matters.

You don't have to arrive anywhere for our time together to have been worthwhile.

I believe people can change. Some changes are big. Some are tiny. Even a tiny change can matter a lot.

But therapy does not always have to be about making a change.

Coming back can matter too.

Each week, we can sit together with pain and hard questions. We can talk, cry, be angry, or be quiet.

We can ask the same questions more than once.

I read about a woman who was struggling with her relationship with God. Her therapist asked her to imagine God in an empty chair, and ask the questions she wanted to ask.*

For me, the important part is that she could ask her questions, with someone beside her.

Therapy can be like that.

We may not find answers. Pain may still be there. Life may still be hard.

But we can come back to it together.

You do not have to do this alone.

My part is to keep showing up, listen, and stay curious. I will not always have answers or know what to do next. We can keep thinking and finding our way together.

Sometimes things change. Sometimes they do not.

Sometimes we notice a tiny change as we keep meeting.

Coming back matters.

You do not have to reach a goal for our time together to matter.