The Power of Being Truly Heard – Anon

Sometimes we carry on for years without realising how much of ourselves has gone quiet. Life gets busy, roles take over, and before we know it, we’ve forgotten the sound of our own voice. This reflection comes from a woman who came to therapy not because something was “wrong,” but because she wanted to feel alive again.

I’ll be honest, when I first decided to try therapy, I felt guilty. I kept thinking, what right do I have to take up space on someone’s couch when there’s nothing really wrong? I wasn’t in crisis, nobody had died, and my life looked perfectly fine from the outside. But inside, I just felt smothered. Like I’d been living in a fog for years.

It wasn’t that I was unhappy exactly, more that I’d gone missing somehow. The kids were older, my husband and I barely talked about anything real anymore, and every day felt like the same script on repeat. I remember saying to my therapist, “I don’t even know why I’m here.” I laughed, trying to make light of it, but part of me was scared she’d agree and say, “Yes, you’re fine, you don’t need this.”

But she didn’t. She just smiled gently and said, “Then let’s start there.” Because she could sense my anxiety, she taught me some breathing techniques to help me centre myself when I needed.

That was the first time I realised how tightly I’d been holding everything in. I’d convinced myself I had no right to feel lost when I had a roof over my head and healthy children. But deep down, I knew there was more to me than being everyone else’s support system. I loved my family, of course I did, but somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten what I wanted. I’d forgotten how to listen to my own voice.

Talking about it felt awkward at first. I was so used to minimising things, saying “It’s nothing really,” or “I’m just being silly.” But she didn’t rush me or tell me I was fine. She listened, properly listened, in a way that made me feel like maybe my feelings did matter after all. There was no judgment, no fixing, just space. And somehow, that space helped me breathe again. Have you had one of those moments where you take a deep breath, close your eyes, and feel the warmth of the sun on your face? It was perfect.

Sometimes I’d say things and surprise myself. Thoughts I didn’t even know were there would tumble out, like, “I feel like I belong somewhere else, but I don’t know where that is.” She didn’t tell me where I should be. She just sat with me in the not knowing. And slowly, the guilt started to fade. I realised therapy isn’t just for people whose lives have fallen apart. It’s also for people who feel like theirs never quite began.

Now, I’m starting to recognise bits of myself I thought had gone for good, the parts that are curious, creative, and quietly brave. I still don’t have all the answers, but I no longer feel like a stranger in my own life.

Being truly heard has a way of reminding you that you exist. That you’re allowed to want more, to take up space, to find your own voice again. And once you’ve felt that, there’s no going back to silence.

If this reflection resonates with you, perhaps it’s time to start listening for your own voice too. Therapy can be the place where you begin to hear it again – gently, at your own pace, with someone beside you.

If you enjoyed reading this, and chronic illness has made you question who you are, here’s another piece that may interest you.

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