It’s been awhile since I’ve written a blog post. It’s not, however, because I stopped writing. My time, creativity and energy has been spent on writing my latest novel, Owls, Foxes, and Fika.* In 2019, I had a kid. The ‘getting to the kid part’ and the first year of parenting really shook my mental health. My OCD reared it’s head, which wasn’t surprising given my history. None the less, it made bath time, sleep time, feeding time and living on the 12th floor with a balcony extremely difficult. My OCD would shout at me that my baby was at risk… because of me. Around the same time, my two friends were also navigating major life changes that rocked them to their cores. The death of a brother and a breakup with the love of their life.
My two friends and I, we are therapists. We have tons of skills. We are resilient human beings. Did you catch that last part. We’re humans. I know right… I thought therapists weren’t supposed to have problems. Let me break that misconception right now. I definitely held that mistaken belief in my twenties and early thirties. I thought therapists lived in a land of unicorns. Gods who were always emotionally stable with nothing but healthy relationships and families. I know better now… probably because I’m healthier than I was back then, and probably because I’m a therapist and I have yet to meet a real life unicorn.** There can be a lot of shame and stigma around therapists struggling, mainly because we don’t often talk about it. Enough of the silence.
I digress.
So, there we were. Struggling. Yet, each Friday, we would meet for coffee and go for a walk. We showed up in whatever state we were in and listened to one another, putting one foot in front of the other as we walked along a path with a source of caffeine in hand. We held space for grief, unknowns and uncertainty. We cried, vented and laughed. Oh how there is such power in sharing pain (and joy) amongst friends, as there is with learning how to give and receive compassion and validation. Friday’s were a tether when life got messy and raw. And, as I do, I needed to write about this monumental period in my life and I thought I’d share it with you. It’s not for everyone, nor do I claim to be a best selling author. I view it as a therapeutic process that I invite you in on. Enjoy!
*Many people ask how to say the last word of the title - fika. It’s a Swedish word for having coffee with friends while eating cinnamon buns or cookies. It sounds like - fee ka
**I have to say, my life is filled with unicorns… but not real life ones. There are unicorn stuffies, and unicorn printed pjs and t-shirts and blankets, and enough unicorn themed b-day parties to fill a lifetime of unicorn seeking needs.