So, I started therapy again.
In 2023, I had five therapy sessions through my company’s benefits. When I first reached out, I was in a rough place, but by the time I finished my last session, I felt much better and thought I didn’t need therapy anymore. Now, I realize it doesn’t matter how I feel—therapy is a space for me to process my emotions and thoughts.
When I first dreamed of creating my own business, I thought everything would go according to plan. But as things progressed very rapidly, I became so overwhelmed that I felt a lot of stress and pain. That’s when I felt like it was time to go back to therapy.
My boyfriend mentioned a therapist he knew of through two people who had transformative experiences with him. They had gone on to live successful lives, and I felt intrigued. The therapist is an Iranian living in the UK, someone with a long and diverse life experience—first as an entrepreneur, then as a lawyer, before transitioning to therapy to help others. I wondered, Is he really that good? but kept my skepticism, as always.
I reached out, and he suggested a 20-minute conversation to see if we had a connection and if I wanted to continue working with him.
An Emotional First Call
One day, while working from a coffee shop, he messaged me saying he was available to talk. I didn’t expect it to be such an emotional conversation, but as I sat outside on the patio, explaining my life—my sports, my teahouse idea, moving from China to the U.S. alone, the sudden appearance of my two half-brothers, my internal conflict about leaving my job to pursue my business, my relationship with my boyfriend—I unexpectedly broke down in tears. I felt overwhelmed, frustrated, and lost.
For 40 minutes, I cried as people walked in and out of the coffee shop around me, but I didn’t care. After the session, I cried a lot more in the car, but I actually felt better, maybe because that’s what therapy does—it gives you a space to release everything onto someone who listens without judgment. I can’t imagine how much emotional strength it takes to be a therapist, absorbing all of their clients' pain while keeping composure.
After that, I decided to try working with this therapist, despite my skepticism. I still struggle to believe how these sessions can truly transform someone’s life, like my boyfriend’s friends claimed. But I chose to give it a chance. It’s expensive to do it weekly, but I’m ready to invest in myself.
My First Therapy Session
By the time I had my first official session, I was already in a better place. I had slowed down my business venture and met inspiring people—an integrative wellness facilitator with a similar vision who wanted to collaborate long-term, and another woman who shared incredible energy and advice about starting a community as mentioned in my last entry. I had also spent time walking around campus putting up posters for a friend, which made me feel purposeful in small ways.
During the session, I talked about hosting a tea ceremony in nature the previous weekend. He asked how I felt about it, and I told him:
- I loved being in nature, lying down on my yoga mat, watching the sky while the speaker played music.
- I felt connected to the people who came, even though not everyone showed up.
- I also learned practical things—like how parking issues might have prevented some guests from coming.
- I was exhausted from setting up, packing, and serving tea while sitting on the ground, but overall, it was a meaningful experience.
He told me that some people need autonomy in their lives—the ability to do something and be rewarded for it. That resonated with me deeply. The tea event felt rewarding in itself, just like signing up for and completing a half marathon. He told me, The journey must be part of the destination.
Maybe I was so focused on making the teahouse happen that I forgot to enjoy the process. But now, by slowing down and focusing on these small events, I find joy in the creation process—the pictures I get to take and edit, the experiences I build, the connections I make.
The Creator in Me
I also realized something bigger: I am a creator.
Ever since I was a child, I have loved to create. In elementary school, I made a game in a notebook—an entire world with characters, shops, and a system where my classmates could build their own characters and interact with it. I crafted that entire world with just a pen and paper. Throughout my life, I continued to create—small crafts, music, videos, clothing designs that came to life, photography, blogs, stories, ML models. I even built a web app with the limited coding skills I had.
The form of creation has changed over time, but the act of creating has always brought me joy.
Now, I create tea events. And right now, this is my journey.
Releasing Tension, Letting Go of Thoughts
After talking about the tea ceremony, my therapist asked me how I was feeling. I paused. I felt tension in my chest—the same feeling I usually get before I start crying. But why? The conversation had been good so far.
I told him I felt like crying, and he said, That's good. You're recognizing the feeling before it happens. Then he guided me through a meditation exercise. I placed my hand on my chest, focused on my breath, and directed my attention to different parts of my body, like my feet. He told me that thoughts are like parcels—I can acknowledge them, look at them, but don't open them, just pass them along.
I imagined myself in a factory, watching boxes pass along the conveyor belt without unpacking them. At some point, I became so absorbed in the practice that I felt momentarily transported into another world. When I returned, I had two tears running down my face.
It was a powerful experience. Normally, when I attempt guided meditation, my mind is cluttered—I'm always thinking about what I need to do next or questioning why I'm "wasting" time instead of being productive. But this time, I was present. My therapist told me I have a strong capacity for this practice and encouraged me to take just a few breaths throughout my day to check in with myself and my body.
Am I a Leader?
Then, we shifted the conversation to leadership. I told him that I never wanted to be a leader. I had always preferred to follow. My dad, my boyfriend—they both encouraged me to start my own business, but it was never my idea. I just went along with it.
Then he said something that was comforting to me:
Many people have fathers or boyfriends who push them toward business, yet they don't do it. But you are. You wouldn't be here, seeking answers, if you weren't meant to create something. I can sense it in you. There is a tiger inside you—a powerful energy that wants to give. And I sense that you will achieve what you want. You just need to be unblocked from your fear, anxiety, and doubts. From what I've heard from you, you are not a follower.
(These weren't his exact words—I'm only recalling from memory. His actual words were much more eloquent and powerful.)
He also pointed out that many entrepreneurs come to him wishing for financial success, but my intention is different. He was right. I'm not doing this for money. Yes, I'd love to be wealthy one day, but wealth alone isn't what drives me. What I truly seek is purpose—meaning. He told me, you don't want to melt into a big pot, referencing the corporate life that doesn't fulfill me. And he was right. I crave something more.
Moving Forward
After the session, I reflected on how much I rely on external sources for comfort—my boyfriend, my relationships, my friends, extreme sports, my business idea. But I don't generate enough comfort within myself. My therapist pointed out that I lack self-soothing, self-assurance, and self-love, and I knew he was right.
I remembered how, in high school, when I had to stay at school over the weekend to study for tests, I had a self-care ritual. Every Friday night, I would go to the mall, have a nice meal, window shop (trying on clothes without buying them), and sometimes see a movie, all by myself. It was my way of unwinding before a weekend of studying, and I enjoyed every single moment. It also kept me sane. How can I cultivate that same level of care for myself again as an adult?
Maybe therapy, just one hour a week, will become part of my new self-care ritual. I don't know what the future holds, but I am learning to focus on the present—because the future will take care of itself. I will take care of it.