Ham Sandwiches.


T is meant to be on a break for the holidays. After a few very difficult days, and a number of emails from me, I begged T to talk to me on the phone – she came back with one better, and offered to have a real session today. T holds her boundaries with holidays, so I felt very blessed that she was willing to see me during her time.

I thought there might be lots of tears, but there weren’t. I talked, and talked, and talked about daddy. Nothing different to what I’ve been going over and over in the last few days, but to tell her felt important. It felt important to let all of those emotions pour out into the space between us. Our space. That space is held with some much love, care, vulnerability, openness…and trust. To let all those emotions out felt intensely soothing.

We haven’t sat together for a cuddle in a while. In fact, we haven’t hugged at all in a long time… I’m not sure why. But today, I needed that closeness. I asked her to sit next to me, and she did – I leant in to her and she put her arm around me, rubbing my back. We cuddled for a long time, talking about how the last few days have been. I haven’t eaten properly – partially binging, partially starving – and when I was with her, I was shaking with lack of food. Promise me, she said, promise me you will eat and text me when you have. I laughed and promised I would try. Do you want me to make you a ham sandwich? she went on. Seriously, I could make you one? You’ll say no, though. I laughed, and said no – eating in front of her would kill me. But her warmth behind the offer warmed me.

She tugged down my sleeve slightly, to see my self harm. She ran her finger over each mark, slowly and very tenderly – like she was acknowledging each one. Hearing them, seeing them, and validating the pain behind them. T is understandably very careful with touch, so it’s rare she moves to touch me… when she does, especially in such a gentle, loving way – it melts me. I can’t describe it any other way. I melt inside.

I knew it must be close to the end so I sat up slightly. She moved, too, so she could see the clock. We were over time. She didn’t move me instantly, though… we sat together for a little while longer. Before we separate, we always get a little jokey – it’s hard, moving from that intense, beautiful closeness. She was teasing me about how much work I have to do, and laughing about how much work she has to do. In her fluidity and ease of these beautiful minutes of our sessions, she called me darling. It was said so easily, at the end of sentence before the next one started… but I stopped hearing her. I was trying to bottle this feeling. I love her, and she makes me feel held and cared for.

Small things in comparison to the big things she does for me. All her training and experience, all the hard slog she puts in to supporting me through our sessions… and I love her for that. But I love her more for her offers of ham sandwiches, and the way she methodically found every scar to show it care… that’s the real healing. That relationship, right there. I love her for that.



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