You’re sitting in a quiet room.
There’s a chair in front of you.
No clipboard.
No clock ticking on the wall.
And in that chair,
Is someone who looks like you.
Older. Calmer.
They’re your therapist for today.
You don’t speak right away.
You look down, and pick at your fingers.
You wonder what this is supposed to be.
They wait.
But not impatiently.
Then they ask:
“How have you really been?”
It’s such a simple question,
But it hits something deep.
It breaks you open. It makes you feel bare.
You’ve heard it before but this time, it feels safe to answer.
You don’t have to perform here.
You don’t have to have to wear a mask.
So they ask again, softer this time:
“What have you been carrying that no one sees?”
“What do you wish someone would ask you?”
There’s a pause.
You sit with it.
If you could say anything right now,
What would it be?
Maybe something like:
– “I’m tired of pretending I’m okay.”
– “I don’t know how to feel better.”
– “Why does it feel like I’m always the one holding everything?”
– “I miss the version of me who used to hope.”
– “I’m scared I’ll always feel like this.”
What would you say?
And what do you think your older self would say back?
What would you say if you really let yourself speak?
