I’ll always remember when it was me

When the clock strikes 9am today, it will be the one-year anniversary of when I last worked with clients in Edinburgh, Scotland. I remember prior to my first session of the day taking photos of my therapy room. All I could do was be present and remain in the present moment. Overthinking would cause me to crumble, and my five clients deserved to have me at my best, especially the client I had been working with for eleven months.

            Each final session was memorable, unique, and incredibly special. I smile now as I recall the moments we spent together; I will never forget them. It was not my first time finishing with a client, I had three previous “endings” with other clients. This was different. I was the one ending the sessions, I was leaving. It is incredible how life happens when you are making other plans. We can choose to let it terrorize and decimate us, or we can choose to become quiet, listen, and look for the meaning. I am a fan of going with the flow of life, even if the waters feel like a tumultuous storm. I have found fortune favours the brave. Bearing in mind the fortune may not look like what you expect.

            I remember sitting in my car for a full thirty minutes after I left the counselling office. I could not bear to move. I knew once I did, that was it. It was all over. I sat, allowed myself to embrace all my feelings and what was coming up for me, inviting my body to create a muscle memory. Eventually, I turned the car on, pulled out of my spot, and passed the counselling office for the last time as I would know it to be (as much has changed since I left).

            In my memory, I have never cried so much in my entire life. I held it together until I got on the motorway (you’re going fast enough you have the privacy from prying eyes). It was so intense, the pain vastly deep, I could not see. I just allowed myself to feel it. Entirely. To perceive the loss and devastation completely. It humanized me and I equally had tears of gratitude for having the opportunity to hold space for the people I was meant to hold space for. I cried for not being strong enough, feeling weak that when it all came on top of me, I felt I needed family. I cried for my act of surrendering and trusting that it all had a purpose and there was a reason for everything, even if I couldn’t immediately see it.

            At one point, I considered pulling my car over as I was blinded by endless tears. It wasn’t safe not only for myself but for my fellow drivers as well. Eventually, once I passed the Kelpies, I was able to compose myself. Once home, I allowed myself to crumble. I welcomed it. That’s how much being a therapist meant to me. After years of searching, feeling like I never quite got it right, I had found what I had been searching for all my life: my purpose. It was such a beautiful tragedy in staying true to myself, I had to leave.

I intended on writing about and sharing this experience a year ago, yet everything happens in the time it is meant to. On the cusp of beginning my practicum in Los Angeles, I feel grateful. Before I began working with clients in Edinburgh, I was ready. I declined an offer to attend The University of Edinburgh, which would have allowed me to begin the track toward my doctorate because it would be another year before they let me begin to work with clients. A year seemed such a long time. You can imagine my frustration at the irony of learning I would need to re-train in the U.S.A. Yet, when I knew it would be a year before I worked with clients again, I was not too perturbed. I knew it would come quickly, and it has.

            Yesterday I accepted a practicum place. I got the feeling I was hoping I would when looking for a site. It’s interesting, the one I chose was the one I was most resistant to. However, when chatting with the Director yesterday, I could feel deep within the depths of my soul that this site is where I am meant to be.

            Come August, I will begin to work with clients again. It will be entirely different, and I recognize I am still a student in this environment, learning and growing yet, gratitude floods all of my being at the prospect of being a therapist again. My friends and colleagues on my course in Scotland continually tell me, “Marina, you are a therapist!” Be that as it may, I am excited at what opportunities obtaining my Masters will bring. As ever, I am eternally grateful.

            May you find the silver linings and gratitude in the trials and tribulations of your own life.

With love,

M x