Dear Therapist,
There’s something I need to name. It’s not because I want to walk away, but because I’m tired of walking away silently.
There’s a pattern that lives in my system. One I’ve danced with for years, in and out of therapy. It begins when I start seeming more “functional.” Productive. Regulated. Hopeful. Like I’m finally “Getting Better.”
But the truth is, that’s often when I start disappearing. The deeper, hurting parts of me go quiet…the ones inside who long for more from this relationship. The ones who crave real presence, real care, even the tiniest taste of love that was never given. They retreat, because history has taught us: asking for more ends in grief.
When we do want more…more relationship, more attunement, more witnessing outside the technical frame…that’s when the pain comes roaring back. Even with the best of intentions, the reality is that therapy was never built to hold that kind of hunger. It brushes against the limitations of professionalism, ethics, time, and the boundaries you’re required to keep.
So we begin the slow exit. We don’t do that with our words. We do that with distance, with silence, and with our system pulling back long before we even realize what’s happening.
But here’s the truth I’m sitting in now…
It doesn’t have to be black and white.
Maybe it’s not “stay and settle” or “leave and grieve.”
Maybe there’s something else.
Because therapy can hold something sacred, if the relationship is allowed to shift. If you, therapist, can step outside the pre-approved frame and sit with us in the in-between. If you can stop tracking “functionality” as a marker of progress, and instead say…
“Where did the other parts go?”
“What gets lost when you get better?”
“Can we talk about what you need that this space might never fully give…and still stay with that together?”
I’m not asking you to fix this. I’m not even sure I need you to meet the ache or if that’s even possible. But, I do need to stop pretending I’m okay when I’m not. I need to speak the unspeakable…
That I want more than therapy can give.
And I still might want to stay.
So let’s sit in the duality together. Let’s hold the grief of what isn’t, while staying open to what could be. If this relationship can stretch… Maybe, I don’t have to disappear again. Maybe being human will be put before the profession….
Maybe.
Still here. Still unsure. Still trying.
But not gone…not yet.
Your Client