M. arrived at the practice after years of feeling she was living in survival mode. A complex childhood, relationships that drained her energy and a constant sense of not being enough.
In the first sessions, she could barely be in silence. Her body was tense, her breathing shallow, her gaze always alert. We started with massage therapy sessions so that her body could learn to let go before her mind could.
Little by little, the body began to trust. And then the mind began to speak.
We worked on the inner dialogue, the patterns she repeated without realising, the guilt she carried like an invisible backpack. There were sessions of deep crying and sessions of shared silence. There was no hurry.
Six months in, M. told me something I will never forget: “I did not know that feeling at peace was this. I thought peace was having no problems. But it is something else. It is feeling that you can be with yourself without needing to escape.”
Today M. continues her path. She no longer comes every week. She comes when she feels she needs a space. And every time I see her, I notice her gaze is different. Softer. More present.
This is what accompanying means.