It had been two months since that first trip into Vicky’s Counseling Office. The first time she told me to let it be. So I did. The next time I went to see her, she un-wrappeded my emotional wound, applied her verbal ointment and a fresh bandaid. This time.. she surprised me. I expected a gentle conversation between us. Her sitting with a notepad on her lap and me across from her on the leather sofa. My goal was to not cry during this session. I was feeling a little bit stronger and I thought I could actually do it. I began telling her about my blogging. Then I told her about the Santa Barbara Writer’s Conference and how I’d always wanted to go. And that I might even drive there. By myself. As in a ‘self discovery quest’.
The surprise came when she asked me if I thought I really needed to be coming to see her. (I thought yes..) I was stunned actually. I was thinking this healing thing was gonna take a while. Instead she sent me on my way.
I had learned to comfort and console myself over these past weeks. During my wobbly moments, I would put on my fuzzy pink slippers and cuddle myself up in a blue fuzzy blanket. (I like fuzzy.) It helped me make the harsher realities of life a little softer. A little warmer. I felt safely protected and wrapped in comfort.
Then I began having stronger, bolder moments. My self-confidence began building with the immediate feed-back from the blogging community. And I found that I needed the pink fuzzy slippers less and less. I was healing. I was getting better. Stronger. And spring was coming. With the days becoming warmer, my emotional sun began to shine. My walks with Whitney weren’t the slow saunters I’d been making early on. Now I was walking at a lively pace.
Life moves on. I was moving on. I had found hope and a reason or two to look toward the future. Vicky knew these things before I did. So she gave me a little push. It’s just what I needed.