When I sat in my therapists office for what would, potentially, be the very last time, he told me that most people just late cancel on a session and never come back. Or they just stop scheduling appointments without discussion.
I was shocked by this. Partially because I find it kind of rude, but mostly because I couldn’t fathom the absence of closure. I needed to have this last session with him. I needed to wrap up the last two and a half years with one last conversation, one last congratulation.
To me, that last session was physical representation of emotional and mental growth. It was the culmination of everything I’ve done, everything I’ve learned about myself, and everything I need to remember move forward.
I needed to sit in that chair across from him and not fear the conversation. I needed to experience seeing him as a partner in my emotional/mental growth, rather than a superior that was going to fix me.
And that’s exactly what happened. When I left his office that last time, I fully owned my right to have been there in the first place – something I had struggled with so intensely at first.