Reclaiming my brain

I’m 42. The vibes of starting this writing adventure is giving Live Journal and MySpace. My inner teenager is ecstatic and cringing at the same time. If you’re a lifer for continually reminding yourself that you can feel two things at the same time: you’re in good company.

I launched my therapy private practice in San Diego, CA one week before lockdown in 2020. The timing; a complete shot in the dark of not knowing. The need for mental health support; off the charts. The rate of therapists joining social media; explosion. I never wanted to be a content creator as a therapist. I wanted to meet in person with other professionals in my field, hand out business cards, grab a coffee, build relationships and hunker down in my cozy office with a steady stream of referrals in my little corner of mental health support offerings. But that all changed over the past five years. Facebook, Instagram and Tik Tok became these new avenues for the mental health field to see and be seen.

There are moments I’ve felt moved & inspired by colleagues and moments I’ve gasped and hid my face behind my hands. The line of overtly disclosing every detail of your life including what you’re eating & wearing (links to buy included) to smashing the stigma of being a “blank slate” as a therapist have all been thrown in the blender. I’ve had mixed feelings. Still do. I realize we’re right on the edge of another shift. Human connection v. AI in the mental health space.

My truth is; I can’t find my way of expression through the confines of short, flashy, musical posts any longer. Also, the small font size on Instagram is giving my aging eyes a workout where many props are needed. I’ve been mulling it over all year, and I realize I’m not alone the more I’ve shared about it. There’s a huge transition happening to reclaim our humanity, our brains, our uniqueness, our own individual paces of doing life, and our own spectacular reflections, thoughts, stories and experiences of life without running it through ChatGPT.

I’m writing for me, but I’d be amiss not to acknowledge that my story is also a part of someone else’s story and by sharing we help each other feel less alone. And by feeling less alone we can offer an energetic hand hold as we each walk our own path giving grace, courage, and love to one another to keep going. Wherever that may be.

This year, I am challenging myself to love myself through this. Wherever this may take me. Through vulnerability, excitement, fear, sadness, joy. All of it. A question I often ask the mothers and fathers I work with: “If the kindest, most nurturing voice whispered something in your ear right now; what would it be?”. For me, it’s “that’s it, keep following that part of you that wants to be here in this writing space. you belong here. stay awhile.”

I’ll end here now with my favorite photo from deep in the throes of early postpartum. Gosh, I’m so proud of her. For resting. For leaving the laundry. For sleeping whichever way we wanted.

me with my son 2021, a few weeks old, both of us