My therapist is truly one of the most important—if not the most important—people on my medical team. Seriously. So, shout out to my girl Lisa! We love her. But honestly, therapy has been a lifeline for me. It’s such a powerful tool for personal growth and healing, and I don’t know where I’d be without it. During some of my hardest seasons—especially when I was isolated in my room for almost a year during COVID—I was seeing Lisa two to three times a week just to make it through. Therapy has helped me understand myself in ways I never could have on my own, and even now, I’m constantly learning and growing. In this post, I want to share five things I’m currently working on in therapy, in hopes that if you’re struggling with any of this, you don’t feel alone, or maybe you’ll feel inspired or empowered to start therapy yourself.
Believing there is *Actually* no timeline
One of the things I have been working on in therapy is a super common issue I know so many of us deal with – learning to believe that there is no set timeline for life and that I am not behind compared to my friends and other people my age.
I’ve found that in talking to others, this is actually SO common, even for the people I would think couldn’t possibly feel that way – yet they do.
Watching my friends and peers travel, move up in their careers, date, buy houses, get married, have kids, and achieve so many amazing milestones over the last decade – while I was just at home trying to stay alive – definitely made it hard for me to feel like I wasn’t INCREDIBLY behind.
It’s difficult to start to come out of that experience and look around without feeling like I’m so behind everyone else in society’s timeline. I feel like my life paused for a decade and I just can’t catch up. It’s so painful, and one of the things that has been the hardest to deal with over the last few years.
I’ve been working on this topic in particular for YEARS in therapy, and I have personally found it is something that I have to intentionally work at regularly to avoid falling into the depths of comparison.
Something that has helped me in therapy has been acknowledging what I have accomplished and focusing on celebrating the steps I am taking towards my personal next milestone moments. This helps to keep me focused on my own progress and my own goals rather than constantly looking at others and wishing I had had the time to get there too.
I’m not sure when or if this feeling will go away – but I am so grateful to have therapy to gain perspective, coping practices, process it, and be reminded that my journey is worth celebrating and being proud of too.
Not blaming myself for being sick
This one – yeah – ouch. Sensitive about this one. For five years I went undiagnosed with SO many doctors telling me nothing was wrong and I was doing this to myself. I was causing my symptoms – from stress, anxiety, wanting attention, wanting to lose weight etc. etc. That I was CHOOSING to feel sick.
So when I was diagnosed with not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, but 20 different conditions – and it was very clear I was not making it up or doing it to myself – my trauma and all of the gaslighting made me believe that it was still my fault and/or that none of the blatant and clear as day evidence was real and that I was just making it all up.
It’s a lot. Like I even was at a point where I LITERALLY carried around a screenshot of my intestinal x-rays and TBI imaging so that I could look at it and see PHYSICAL indisputable proof that it was real and not something I was imagining.
I don’t need to do that anymore, but I still deal with the thoughts and inner-dialogue arguments with my gaslighting trauma on one side and the logical points and proof on the other.
Right now in therapy, I’m working on standing my ground with myself and not letting my mind wander and continue to gaslight this girl in here who was never making anything up and was always trying to heal and get better.
I’m slowly but surely learning to trust myself fully with all my feelings, emotions, thoughts, beliefs, intuition and actions after losing belief and trust in them for SO long. I have to say – the moments where I have been able to be successful in holding my ground with myself in that way and truly trusting myself, has been one of the most FREEING feelings.
I’m not fully there yet, BUT I’ve done the work, and I’m doing the work over here in therapy land and in all other ways physically, mentally, and emotionally in my life. With each step, I’m learning to let go of the gaslighting and self-blame and really stand in my truth and trust myself wholly and fully. It’s not been an easy path, but I know I’m on the right one!
Accepting that not everyone will understand My Story Or My Heart
One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn in therapy—and in life—is that not everyone will understand my journey. Not everyone will understand my choices, my struggles, or the weight of what I’ve carried. And as much as I want to be understood, as much as I want people to really see me, I’m learning that their understanding is not something I can force.
For a long time, I felt like if I could just explain things the right way, if I could give enough details or paint a clearer picture, then maybe people would finally get it. Maybe they would understand why I’ve had to make the choices I’ve made, why my path looks different, why I can’t just “push through” the way they expect me to. But the truth is, no matter how much I explain, some people will still never truly understand what it’s like to be in my shoes. And that has to be okay.
It’s hard—really hard—to accept that. Because deep down, we all want to be understood. We all want that validation, that connection. And when people don’t get it, it can feel isolating, even disappointing. But I’m learning that their lack of understanding doesn’t take anything away from my truth. It doesn’t make my experiences any less real, my pain any less valid, or my journey any less important.
What I can do is focus on the people who do understand—or at the very least, the ones who try. The ones who listen with an open heart, who support me even when they don’t fully grasp the depth of my experience. I’m learning that I don’t need to be fully understood to be fully loved. That I can still find connection, even in the spaces where understanding is incomplete.
Most importantly, I’m working on giving myself the understanding I so deeply crave from others. Because at the end of the day, the most important person who needs to believe in my story, my choices, and my journey—is me.
Working on my relationship with food
My relationship with food is one of the most complicated and emotional things I’ve had to work through in therapy or really in life – ever. It’s not just about what I eat—or in my case, can’t eat—but about everything food represents: connection, culture, celebration, comfort. And when your body doesn’t process food the way it’s supposed to, it can feel like you’re missing out on so much more than just a meal.
Because of gastroparesis and my other motility conditions, eating like most people isn’t an option for me. I rely on a feeding tube to get the nutrition I need, and while I’m grateful for the medical advances that keep me alive, it doesn’t make the reality of it any easier. The truth is, it’s complicated. Some days, I accept it for what it is, and other days, it’s frustrating, heartbreaking, and isolating. There are moments when I crave the simple joy of sitting down to a meal without overthinking every bite, without pain, without consequences. And then there are moments when I feel guilty for even wanting that, knowing that my body just doesn’t work that way.
A huge part of healing for me is the process of trying new foods—something that has become one of my biggest fears. I’ve spent years cycling through every elimination diet imaginable, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong. For five years, I tested every theory, cut out entire food groups, and followed every restrictive plan, only to find out that the problem wasn’t just the food—it was my stomach itself. On top of that, I’ve dealt with stomach infections that were either caused by or made worse by certain foods, forcing me back into rigid diets and endless cycles of restriction. After all of that, it’s no surprise that food makes me anxious. Trying something new doesn’t feel exciting—it feels terrifying. When there’s a real possibility that a single bite could leave me sick for hours, even days, it just doesn’t feel worth it most of the time.
But in therapy, I’m working on this too. I’m working on shifting the way I view food—not as the enemy, not as something I have to fear, but as something that still has the potential to be good. I know that right now, it’s hard. But I also know that things can change, that there’s a possibility that one day, food won’t hurt, that my body might tolerate more, and that I won’t always feel this deep-rooted anxiety every time I take a bite of something new.
No matter what form my nutrition takes—whether it’s a feeding tube formula, a sip of something new, or a meal I can only share from the sidelines—what I’m really working on is healing my entire relationship with food. That means finding peace in social situations where I can’t eat like everyone else, allowing myself to grieve the experiences I’ve lost, and learning to separate my self-worth from what’s on my plate. It’s about making space for both the sadness and the hope, the frustration and the progress. Because at the end of the day, healing isn’t just about what I can or can’t eat—it’s about finding a way to exist in this reality without shame, without guilt, and with as much grace for myself as possible.
Learning to feel enough
One of the hardest things I’m working on in therapy is overcoming the feeling of not being enough. I think a lot of people struggle with this in some way, but for me, it’s been amplified by my experiences. Spending years being taken care of by my parents and doctors, watching my friends hit life milestones while I was just trying to survive—it’s made it so easy to feel like I’m falling behind, like I’m not doing enough, like I’m not being enough.
Not being able to work in the traditional sense, missing out on social events because of my health, and having to isolate due to being high-risk for COVID have only deepened that feeling. When so much of society equates worth with productivity, it’s hard not to internalize the idea that if I’m not achieving, if I’m not constantly doing, then I’m somehow failing. And when people don’t understand my situation, when they assume that because I “look fine” I must be fine, it just reinforces that voice in my head that tells me I should be doing more—even when I know, logically, that surviving what I’ve been through is already more than enough.
Through therapy, I’m learning to challenge these thoughts and remind myself that my value isn’t determined by my productivity, my ability to work, or the milestones I have or haven’t reached. I’m working on seeing myself as whole and worthy exactly as I am, even when I feel stuck, even when my path looks different from others’. I’m learning to appreciate the ways I do show up, the strength it takes to keep going, and the impact I make just by being here.
Are you in therapy? What are you working on?
I hope that reading about my struggles and what I am working on in therapy helps you feel less alone if you are struggling with them too and also empowers you to try out therapy too! It really has changed my life and been such a gamechanger for my health & wellbeing!
Have you struggled with any of that too? What did you do? I’d love to hear about your experiences! You can share your thoughts with me by commenting below! Thanks so much for being here!
xx I love you, I mean it
DISCLAIMER
Please note that all content on this page, website, and any affiliated resources is for informational and educational purposes only. It is not intended to provide medical advice or to take the place of treatment from a physician. NO information on this page or website should be used to diagnose, treat, prevent, or cure any disease or condition. Additionally, please be aware that some of the links on this page may be affiliate links, from which I may receive a small commission if you make a purchase through those links.
