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emotional health

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People share the most impactful things a therapist has said to them.

Good mental health is often achieved with the help of a therapist. Therapists can be an incredible resources for getting additional support during hard times, overcoming challenges, or looking to change patterns. Their words and insights can lead to breakthroughs, realizations, and stick with you for years to come.

So when the question "What's one thing a therapist has said to you that you will never forget?" was asked in a discussion among people who have gone to therapy, many decided to get vulnerable and share the most meaningful things they've been told by a therapist.

These are 22 of the most inspiring, gut-wrenching, and impactful words and pieces of advice that people took away from their therapy sessions that changed their lives.

1. "'Is the relationship you have now, the relationship you'd want for your children?' (to which I had a fast and almost visceral response) and she went on to say 'because this relationship will be the one their subconscious uses as the prime example of what they accept later in life.'" – Sarkasmic_Trix

2. "'Be kind to yourself.' 40 years of therapy and those 4 words still resonate with me." – ScottishWidow64

3. "You are not responsible for other people's happiness. You can contribute to it, but you are not ultimately responsible for someone else being happy or not." – Shot_Razzmatazz5560

happy, happiness, therapy, counsel, mental healthHappy Duck Dynasty GIF by DefyTVGiphy

4. "'Your thoughts are scarier than the real thing.'" – NewsgramLady

5. "Not everyone is going to like you." – Accomplished-Leg8461

6. "When we are growing and developing, the animal part of our brain that ensures our survival is hard wired to tune into our protectors. Parental disapproval stokes fear of death, basically. That is why I absolutely panic when someone is angry with me. That helped me break that circuit and rewire my brain." – SueBeee

7. "Give yourself permission. When you have a permission slip, it makes it physically easier to do what you need to do for yourself and let go of feelings that get in the way. She literally made me get out sticky notes and write things like: 'I give myself permission to let go of guilt. I give myself permission to have the wedding I want. I give myself permission to not be responsible for my mother.'" – iris_cat1313


Permission, therapy, notes, mental health, therapisttv land permission GIF by YoungerTVGiphy

8. "'Analyzing and researching are also avoidance tactics to avoid feeling.'" – Gallumbits42

9. "I was struggling with trying to 'save' my adult daughter dealing with substance use disorder. I was allowing her to live with me and she wasn’t working or improving. I was reluctant (read codependent) to let her go and kick her out because maybe she’d be homeless. Maybe her life would get worse. After months of this, my therapist looked at me in the eye and said: 'Who made you god? Why do you think you have the power to save her?' And that’s when it hit me. I had no control over the situation. I had to let her go. I kicked her out in 2023. Today she’s doing well. Sober, working and heading back to college. ❤️" – YellowFirestorm

10. "As my ex was gaslighting, insulting me, being an all around terrible person to me saying the most awful things about me to me and the kids my therapist told me, 'You can consider him an unreliable narrator.' That helped me with perspective." – ithinksotoomaybee

11. "After sharing some work updates and just needing a sounding board to see if I was overreacting or not: 'I’m going to take my therapist hat off for one second, that’s absolutely f*cked up, ok hat back on'." – Vrey

therapy, therapist, mental health, counseling, helpHbo Therapy GIF by SuccessionHBOGiphy

12. "After 2 months of marriage counseling my therapist said that things were not going to get better and that my husband was not a diamond in the rough he was a piece of coal and even if he wanted and participated in therapy he was never going to get well in this lifetime." – Puzzleheaded_Gear622

13. "After I broke up with my ex, he said 'Thank god, now you don't need therapy anymore'. Was literally our last session." – Aggravating_Pick_951

14. "Regarding looking for love from certain family members, she said, 'It's like a child going to the pantry looking for food, but they're isn't any. It's okay for that child to keep going back to that same pantry looking for food (even if there isn't any) because they don't know any better. But now that you're grown, you may need to accept that there will never be food in that pantry. You need to look for a different pantry.'" – MikeOxmaul

Empty pantry, advice, therapy, therapist, helpHungry Thanksgiving GIF by Looney TunesGiphy

15. "'So you're an orphan.' (Both parents had died by my age of 46)." – AGPym

16. "That sometimes we feel guilt or anger when the real feeling is helplessness. Sometimes it's easier to feel like we failed instead of realizing we had no power over it at all." – OhNever_Mind

17. "'These are feelings, not facts.'" – SweetSweet_Jane


feelings, facts, therapist, therapy, counselFeelings Feels GIF by WE tvGiphy

18. "'Their intent nor if they are consciously choosing to hurt you is what matters. Are they hurting you? Do you want it to continue? That is what matters.'" – Sarkasmic_Trix

19. "'Enabling can sometimes disguise itself as good intentions.'" – naughtytinytina

20. "When discussing past drug use, we talked about how I maintained sobriety throughout both pregnancies. She asked why, nobody forced me to. I said it was the right thing to do. Then she says 'if you can do the right thing for others, why can’t you do it for yourself?' Good question, Casey. Been thinking about that one a lot, even now. It’s helped me work on my self destructive behaviors, helped me prioritize my own needs, and helped me maintain my sobriety now." – Pure_Preference_5773

sobriety, mental health, therapy, therapist, advice, counselSobriety GIF by Lady GagaGiphy

21. "Two things: 'I think it’s time you talk to your doctor'. (my situational depression was progressing to a point of no return, and it was time to be medicated. I went to my doctor that day. My therapist saved my life). 'You’re going to be OK.' She said it so calmly and with such confidence. I believed her. And she was right." – Numerous_Office_4671

22. "'You get to define what "family" means.'" – TrueBelievingMoron

Photo: Canva

We're nearly a year into the pandemic, and what a year it has been. We've gone through the struggles of shutdowns, the trauma of mass death, the seemingly fleeting "We're all in this together" phase, the mind-boggling denial and deluge of misinformation, the constantly frustrating uncertainty, and the ongoing question of when we're going to get to resume some sense of normalcy.

It's been a lot. It's been emotionally and mentally exhausting. And at this point, many of us have hit a wall of pandemic fatigue that's hard to describe. We're just done with all of it, but we know we still have to keep going.

Poet Donna Ashworth has put this "done" feeling into words that are resonating with so many of us. While it seems like we should want to talk to people we love more than ever right now, we've sort of lost the will to socialize pandemically. We're tired of Zoom calls. Getting together masked and socially distanced is doable—we've been doing it—but it sucks. In the wintry north (and recently south) the weather is too crappy to get together outside. So many of us have just gone quiet.

If that sounds like you, you're not alone. As Ashworth wrote:


You're not imagining it, nobody seems to want to talk right now.

Messages are brief and replies late.

Talk of catch ups on zoom are perpetually put on hold.

Group chats are no longer pinging all night long.

It's not you.

It's everyone.

We are spent.

We have nothing left to say.

We are tired of saying 'I miss you' and 'I can't wait for this to end'.

So we mostly say nothing, put our heads down and get through each day.

You're not imagining it.

This is a state of being like no other we have ever known because we are all going through it together but so very far apart.

Hang in there my friend.

When the mood strikes, send out all those messages and don't feel you have to apologise for being quiet.

This is hard.

No one is judging.

- Donna Ashworth

Those of us who find ourselves feeling this way certainly hope that no one is judging. We hope that our friends understand, either because they're in the same boat or because we all get that we're all handling this weird time differently.

It's not that we don't care or that we don't miss people outside of our household desperately. It's more that we miss people so much that we can't stand this half-baked way of being with people anymore. Personally, I'd rather just wait it out until we get enough people vaccinated over the next few months. I'm holding out for the hugs, man. Going into hermit mode in this final stretch feels more doable than straining to make socializing work with all the limitations and the exhaustion on top of it.

There are exceptions, of course. People who live alone probably need whatever socializing they can get. And checking in with people, especially loved ones you know struggle with mental health issues, is important. Some of this pandemic wall can be veiled depression, so we need to look out for one another and touch base sometimes. It's also good for us to make connections even when we don't necessarily feel like it. Sometimes the desire might be lacking, but we're happy to have connected once we've done it.

And of course, there are people who have just pretended that the pandemic isn't happening this whole time. Maybe those people aren't feeling this, even while they're making life harder for the rest of us who are trying to follow the guildelines.

It's all just hard. There's no right or wrong way to make it through a pandemic, as long as we're not actively harming ourselves or other people. Everyone has different needs, and those change as we go through different phases of this thing. It's just nice to see a common feeling in this phase put into words so eloquently.

Donna Ashworth has published a whole book of poems about the pandemic called "History Will Remember When the World Stopped." She also has a book of poetry for women, "To The Women: Words to Live By."

The arts are always a gift, but they can be especially powerful during tough times. Thank you, Ms. Ashworth, for using your words to give voice to what so many of us are experiencing.

Concept by Susan Silk, Graphic by Annie Reneau

It's hard to know what to say when someone you know is going through a crisis. Whether a person has lost a loved one, received a dire medical diagnosis, or is experiencing some other kind of grief, we're often at a loss for words for how to comfort them.

It gets even trickier when we share in some measure of the person's grief. When your friend finds out they have a terminal illness, that's painful for your friend and their family, but also for you. While it's important to honor that, it's also important to recognize that your grief isn't the same as the person afflicted, nor is it the same as their spouse's or children's or parents' grief. It's totally fine to feel the weight of your own sadness and loss, but there are appropriate and inappropriate places to put that weight. For example, saying to a mutual friend, "I can't handle this, it's too devastating" is very different than saying the same thing directly to your friend who just found out they are dying.

Psychologist Susan Silk has created a helpful concept that makes figuring out what to say and what not to say a bit easier. She refers to it as the Ring Theory, and she and author Barry Goldman described it in an op-ed in The Los Angeles Times.

Here's how it works:


First, draw a circle and put the name of the person in crisis in the middle of it. Then draw a ring around that and label it with the people closest to them—spouse, parents, children, etc. Then draw another ring for their intimate friends or other family members they are close to. Next, make a ring for their close co-workers, not-quite-as-close friends, distant relatives, etc., followed by a ring for other people who know them—acquaintances, community members, and such.

These concentric rings represent which direction our words of comfort and empathy should go, and which direction the venting or dumping of our own feelings of grief should go.

The person in the center can say anything they want to anyone, of course. The crisis is theirs and they get all the leeway and grace in how they express their feelings. People in the rings around them can vent their feelings toward people in the larger rings, but not the smaller ones. If we're talking to someone in a smaller ring than we are in, our words should only be comforting and empathetic, such as "I'm so sorry you're going through this," or "What a terrible tragedy, let me bring you a meal to make this time a little easier for you."

Silk explains that when we are talking to a person in a smaller circle from us—someone who is closer to the crisis—the goal is to help. It's appropriate not to offer advice, no matter how helpful we think we're being. It's not an appropriate direction for our personal storytelling or expressions of despair, however sincere. If we feel an impulse to do those things, we should point it outward, toward the people farther from the crisis.

We should never put people in smaller circles in a position of feeling like they need to comfort us. Comfort should move inward through the rings, not outward.

Let's imagine my friend Lee just lost her mother to cancer. I lost my much-loved mother-in-law to pancreatic cancer just six weeks after her diagnosis, but this is Lee's crisis, not mine. As a friend, I'm not going to tell her how much I miss my mother-in-law, describe in detail how hard it was to go through losing her, or go on and on about the meaning of life and death. I'm not going to say those things to her spouse, either. I might say, "I'm so sorry. Cancer really sucks, and this is such a hard thing to go through" and then offer to help watch the kids or bring over a casserole.

Concept by Susan Silk, Graphic by Annie Reneau

If I'm talking to a mutual friend or someone Lee knows peripherally, that's when I might share my own story or how Lee's mom's death is bringing up my own feelings of grief. The key is to make sure I'm pointing that emotional venting of my own toward someone in a larger circle, not a smaller one.

As Silk and Goldman explained, it's not so much what you say as whom you say it to.

"If you want to scream or cry or complain, if you want to tell someone how shocked you are or how icky you feel, or whine about how it reminds you of all the terrible things that have happened to you lately, that's fine," they wrote. "It's a perfectly normal response. Just do it to someone in a bigger ring."

"Comfort IN, dump OUT," they added.

Silk and Goldman point out that most of us intuitively know not to dump our feelings on the person in the center of the circle, but we may not be conscientious enough about how we talk to those who are close to the crisis as well. The Ring Theory visual can help us see where it's appropriate to vent and where it's not, and how best to help both those who are grieving and who are in the grieving person's orbit.

It can even help us recognize what we need most when we find ourselves at the center of the circle. All of us will be there at one time or another, and knowing where we are in the rings can help us know how to comfort one another through our grieving processes.

Photo by Karim MANJRA on Unsplash

Forgiveness is hard for most of us, but it's harder for some than others. When we've been harmed in some way—physically, emotionally, or both—we tend to carry the pain around with us. Anger and resentment are natural responses to being hurt, of course, and the longer or more severe the wounding, the more likely we are to feel those feelings long-term.

What we usually want—or think we want—is for the person who did the hurting to acknowledge our pain. We want them to fully understand what we feel, to know the impact of their words or actions. And we want an apology as proof that the person not only get, but also regrets, what they've said or done to us.

Some of us will hold onto our anger and resentment indefinitely, waiting for that all-important apology to come before we even consider the idea of forgiveness. But if we value our own well-being, we may want to rethink that order.

You don't have to wait for an apology—or even an acknowledgement—in order to forgive. And in fact, we shouldn't.


To fully understand why that is, we need to understand what forgiveness actually is. And in order to understand what forgiveness is, it's helpful to clarify what it isn't. Forgiving someone is not the same as making up with them. Forgiveness is not reconciliation. Forgiveness doesn't require justice to be done or apologies to be offered.

Forgiveness isn't an external action, but rather an internal state of letting go of anger and resentment. It's saying, "I'm no longer going to allow you and the hurt you've caused me keep me in a state of unhappiness." It's something you do for yourself, not for the person who hurt you.

Think about it. Who is that anger and resentment hurting the most? Who is having their life disrupted by it? Who is having to deal with it day in and day out? You, right? Not the person who hurt you. You.

And there are real physical effects of holding onto those emotions. "There is an enormous physical burden to being hurt and disappointed," says Karen Swartz, M.D., director of the Mood Disorders Adult Consultation Clinic at The Johns Hopkins Hospital. Chronic anger impacts your heart rate, blood pressure, and immune system, which increases your risk of chronic disease. Forgiveness has the opposite effect.

And it doesn't mean just saying that you forgive the person. Again, forgiveness is an internal act of releasing anger, frustration, disappointment, and resentment. "It is an active process in which you make a conscious decision to let go of negative feelings whether the person deserves it or not," Swartz says.

That's why an apology isn't necessary in order to practice forgiveness. We have to let go of the idea that forgiveness means telling someone what they did is okay or that they are somehow being let off the hook. It doesn't. It means telling yourself that whatever the person did to you isn't going to keep you in a state of bitterness. It's making the choice to stop allowing your own anger to keep hurting you.

Sometimes forgiveness can lead to empathy and compassion for the person who hurt you, but it doesn't have to. Some kinds of harm are impossible to empathize with, but that doesn't mean they make forgiveness impossible. There are some incredible stories of people forgiving perpetrators of terrible atrocities, like the genocide in Rwanda, not because those things were forgotten or justified but because holding onto resentment and anger only punishes the victim of harm, not the perpetrator.

So if you've been waiting on an apology, try forgiveness first. While it's easier said than done, letting go can be incredibly freeing, and good for both your mental and physical health.