I was leaving my therapist’s office a couple of months ago and decided to walk rather than wait for a bus.  As I began my journey, I reflected on many significant occurrences in my life. You know, the ones that got to this point, you know, needing a therapist. 

It was a nice, crisp evening, as I strolled the avenue towards downtown, where I would catch a bus that would take me home. I savored the solitude and enjoyed the walk. I continued to reflect on the many events of my life and found myself drawn to several intense moments. Moments that I did not want to deal with in therapy. The more I pondered, I realized how challenging looking back was going to be. Nevertheless, if I wanted to understand why I was, who I was, I had to put in the work. 

Besides, therapy had been a brief respite that evening. Considering I did not talk about anything unpleasant or anything that would have made me cry. I despised those sessions; I hated crying! Crying never did anything but give me a headache?! I did not see the value in it, plus it made me look ugly! Lol! 

The question: Do you love yourself? I asked myself one evening. The honest answer or the lack thereof made me feel sadder than I already was. Wasn’t the question simple? Yes or no! Why couldn’t I answer the question?!  

How could I have loved myself when I had extraordinarily little self-esteem and self-worth? That is why I decided to do the therapy thing again. I wasn’t a fool; I knew there was something wrong with me. My sadness, my depression, and my personal belief about myself stemmed from many places. I needed to understand why those places had such an emotional impact on my life. 

I hadn’t noticed I was downtown until I smelled the exhaust from the several buses that lined the town hall. As I rushed to my bus, I quickly decided to be completely authentic with my therapist. 

I was glad to be sitting down because the walk exhausted me. I was surprised that more people were not on the bus. Sitting down, I started thinking again about the roads that led me to therapy, those harsh terrains and obstacles placed in my life to destroy me. 

The bus ride home was uneventful. The bus stopped right across from my apartment. As I gazed out of the bus window, I saw five beautiful faces impatiently waiting for me to get home. It was that moment I realized, as the sight of them pulled at my heart, that it did not matter what led me to therapy. The five of them were without any hesitation, my people, my commitment, my unwavering determination to be a better parent, and gain a kinder and loving opinion of who I was. Glory be to God! 

Until the Next Blog Be Blessed