This Work Is Sacred
A reflection on the privilege of holding people’s lives.
I wrote this just minutes after a colleague received an upsetting message from one of her patients. It’s not uncommon for us to get emails or texts sharing breakups, cancer diagnoses, or the death of a loved one. In those moments, we have to quickly regulate our own emotions so we can show up fully for the people we care for. I’m deeply grateful for the colleagues who help me process my own emotions so I can continue holding space for others.
Being a therapist is some sacred ass work. For multiple hours over several days, we hold space for the saddest, most painful stories you can imagine. We know how common sexual abuse is in our society and how many monsters lurk in the corners. We’ve listened to the wails of grief. We sense the fears. We sit with the consequences of abuse, neglect, and really shitty life experiences for so many people. We support others by carrying the weight of their pain, hopes, and dreams - even if it’s only for 50 minutes at a time.
I’ve heard people “jokingly” say that therapy is just paying for a friend and… yeah. Some people go to therapy because otherwise they won’t know another human who will listen and hold space for their pain and asking questions that genuinely get to know who they are - not what they do for a living, where they went to school, or if they have any children, but something deeper. And if that sounds sad, I’d ask: when’s the last time you sat across from another human and took the time to try and understand them beyond the surface?
You know what’s funny (not funny)? As a therapist, it can be hard sometimes to have long conversations with people who aren’t “into” therapy stuff. I’m not well practiced in surface level talk. I want to know other people deeply and to understand them from the inside out. I forget that most people aren’t spending hours a day practicing empathy and self reflection. Not because they’re bad people but because that’s not their job.
Sometimes I worry that I come across as work obsessed, but my love for my work isn’t about work for work’s sake. I feel incredibly honored to hold so many stories with care. Yes, it’s my job, but I carry the stories of every patient I’ve ever encountered in my heart every day. Their stories, both the painful and the hilarious, shape the ways I talk with my children and how I love on my people.
If there’s any wisdom I can offer from my years doing this work, it’s that there is so much pain, success, and wisdom sitting inside your neighbor. I don’t care if they’re 2 or 103 - every life holds pain, success, and wisdom. And if you’re brave enough to understand your own stories while also making space to hear someone else’s, you will grow.
I seriously get to love people for a living. How cool is that?