This is for the brave ones who do what no one else in their family dared to do. The ones who stop the cycle, who go to therapy first, who say “no” instead of staying silent, who choose healing over suffering. And no one throws them a party for it. 

No one tells you that healing can feel lonelier than suffering in familiarity, at least for a little while until you find your footing. That choosing clarity might mean losing connection, at least at first. That doing what might be best for you, might look like betrayal to others. When you’re first to break a pattern, grief can show up in unexpected ways. There is grief for the closeness you once had with people you now see more clearly. Grief when others interpret your growth as judgement. Grief for the versions of yourself that you’re learning to let go of. Grief of losing connection, while gaining clarity for yourself and future generations. 

The labor of being a cycle breaker isn’t just yours, there’s an invisible labor of many. You’re not only healing yourself and your own wounds, you’re metabolizing and working through generations of patterns, ruptures, beliefs, and wounds that were never meant to be yours, but landed on your shoulders anyway. On top of that, that labor also comes with emotional fatigue. The exhaustion of always being the one who is emotionally aware, reflects, initiates, listens, explains, communicates, and grows. The one who is “doing the work” for your family, for yourself, and for your lineage that never got the chance. It makes sense that you feel alone sometimes. It’s no wonder, you might feel guilty for seeing things differently. You might also wonder if you’re too sensitive, too “extra”, if you’re the problem, if ignorance was bliss. I’ve been there and I’ve made it to the other side.

Here’s what I can tell you. Healing is not linear. It’s messy and chaotic and layered and emotional and also so worth it. Healing is learning to name what you need and want even when no one asked. Healing is feeling joy and grief all at the same time. Healing is learning to parent yourself for what you feel that you missed and accepting what you were given from your guardians. Healing is regulating your nervous system because no one can regulate that for you, but they can definitely help to co-regulate with you. Healing is holding to your boundaries, respecting yourself, and noticing that others will respect you in the process. Healing is not about being perfect, it’s not about pleasing others, it’s about being authentic to what is right for you in the moment that you are in. And no, the loneliness you feel does not mean that you’re doing it wrong, it just means that you’re the first person in your family to do this and you’re leading the way for others after you. You don’t need validation from your family to see that what you’re doing is impactful and monumental. You got this. There are people who understand. You are not alone, even if it feels like it.

If this feels familiar, if you’re tired, angry, hopeful, and heartbroken all at once, therapy can be a place where you don’t have to explain why it’s all so heavy. You just get to put it down and we can sift through the heaviness together. I offer therapy that honors both your story and your survival, whether you’re navigating what it means to differentiate while honoring collectivistic values or trying to hold onto your roots within an individualistic culture, I’m here to support you.