People often ask me why I became a therapist. I usually smile, take a breath and say something calm and professional like 'It was a calling.' But if I'm being truly honest (and as a therapist, I like to practice what I preach), it started with a breakdown.
Not the glamorous, Hollywood kind where someone sobs in a bathroom and has an epiphany. No, this one crept in quietly. About 10 years ago my dad passed away suddenly and with that loss, a heavy fog descended. I didn't just grieve - I unravelled. My dad had been a huge part of my life. I was only 25 when he passed, a new mother to a 9-month old boy and my foundation felt like it had fallen apart. Anxiety came first. Generalised Anxiety Disorder - a full-time, unpaid job where your brain runs worst case scenarios all day long. I became an unwilling expert in Health Anxiety too. Every twinge meant death. Every heart palpitation (thanks anxiety) meant I too was going to drop down dead, just like my dad. Depression, an old foe from my teen years joined the party too.
For a while I coped like many people do: by not coping at all. I kept busy. I was a stay-at-home mum by day, working evening jobs to help the family stay afloat. I poured energy into everyone else and left myself running on empty. But eventually I couldn't ignore the whisper (or was it a scream?) that I needed help.
And that's when I met her - my therapist. She didn't just listen. She saw me. Not just the anxious, tired, grief-stricken version of me - but also the parts that I had buried. The stronger parts. The curious parts. The healer in me that had always been there, just waiting for permission to come to life.
She said one sentence that changed everything.
"You'd make a great therapist, you know."
At first, I laughed. Loudly. I had baby sick on my shoulder and hadn't had a full night's sleep since Frozen was released. But the seed had been planted.
So I started researching. Slowly. Secretly. Just in case I was being ridiculous. But it turns out I wasn't. I found a course, signed up for my Level 5 in Psychotherapeutic Counselling, and began studying - often late in the evening or those rare moments when the children were in front of the tv and quiet for 10 minutes, surrounded by snack wrappers and notes scribbled in books covered in Disney stickers.
Training to be a therapist while raising three small humans wasn't easy. But I did it because I knew what it was like to sit in that chair, full of fear and pain and not knowing if it would ever get better. And I wanted to be the person who could look someone in the eye and say "You're not broken. You're just becoming."
Therapy changed my life. It didn't erase the grief, or the anxiety, or the tough days - it showed me light in the darkness. And it gave me something else even more powerful - understanding, compassion and the ability to hold space for others as they find their way through their own darkness.
So, why did I become a therapist?
Because I believe in transformation. Because pain cracked me open and light found its way in. Because one therapist believed in me - and now I get to pass that on.
And maybe, just maybe, I can give something to someone else that will be life changing.
I promise to always walk with you on your journey and hold space for you without judgement, with empathy and compassion.
Emma Rice BA (Hons), Prof. Dip Psy C., MNCPS Accred.
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