AES45 Going to Therapy as A Child

I think I was about 8 when I went to therapy for the first time. I obviously didn’t understand what therapy was, my mom just told me that there was a lady that wanted to talk to me. I was kinda confused to be honest because I didn’t find anything interesting about myself. Like why would this lady plan to talk to me, it just didn’t sit right with me. But okay, I just listened to what my mom said because I trust her (or maybe because my Chinese zodiac is a dog, we will never know).

So I get in the room and there was my therapist, and she asked me some basic questions. Like how are you, where do you go to school, and what did you have for breakfast. After that, she said that my mom told her that I liked to draw, and I said yes I love drawing. She handed me a piece of paper and she told me to draw my family, and I really felt uncomfortable because that was like the crucial time of my parent’s divorce. But okay I drew a house and I drew my mom, me, my brother, and my cat. 

And my therapist looked at me and she kinda gave me the look, she looked like she understood what was going on in my head. I think it’s much easier for me at the time to express how I feel by drawing. Because when I talk, I cry, and when I cry people usually can’t hear what Im talking about. After she saw the drawing she asked some other questions and I knew that I couldn’t quite answer them. It’s not really because I didn’t have the answer, it’s more because I didn’t have the energy to say those things. It was just very exhausting for me. 

At that time I was so young yet so exhausted and stressed. I feel like I didn’t really understand what was going on, and I forced myself to understand. Also, I was kinda being a sponge, so I didn’t realize that I was absorbing everyone’s stress and it make me kinda insane. 

So at my next therapy appointment, I brought a painting that I made for my therapist, and I was really touched because she actually loved it. I remember it was a painting of a sunset, and I was really proud of my work. This time she asked me about how my school was going and I said “I don’t know, I just think Im just not smart. My mom is really smart she does good math. But I can barely hold my tears when I see one math problem”. My therapist just looked at me and said “Can I ask you something?” and I said yes. She asked “I know you love to draw and paint. You gave me this wonderful painting right here. But if one day, when you turn into an amazing and successful artist, and you made an art gallery. You can put 10 paintings there, would you put the 10 copies of the same painting, or would you show 10 individual different paintings?”

And I said “I would put 10 different paintings because every painting is different. Then people can enjoy many variations of paintings.” She smiled and said “That’s exactly the same answer for what you said earlier, every human is different and unique. Every human has their own flaws, and that is okay. I can solve a math problem, but I can’t make such a beautiful painting the way you do. Besides, you’re so young. You have so much time to learn, and progress” I cried at that exact moment. I felt like my heart was so full, and that I got the validation I needed. I was living in a world where math was the only definition of smart. It felt like someone was opening a new door for my life. 

So I think going to therapy was amazing and it was extremely helpful. When I look back I really am grateful that my mom took me to see a therapist, because I can see how it affects me even until this day. 

picture: https://id.pinterest.com/pin/1759287343990691/