I have wanted to write this letter for a long time. I have started it in my head, in waiting rooms and on long drives and in the moments between sessions when one client has just left and another has not yet arrived. I have started it because I have met so many people, over so many years, who walked into my office or my screen carrying the same particular weariness — the kind that comes from having been strong for too long, alone, without being seen.
If that is you, I want you to know that I see you.
I see you in the morning, when you wake up and the first thing you do is run through what the day requires and what version of yourself you are going to need to be in order to meet it. I see you putting on the clothes that match that version. I see you driving to work, or sitting down at your desk at home, with a small and well-managed exhale that no one else is around to hear.
I see you at the meeting where you say the right things. I see you in the conversation with the friend where you ask after their life and never quite get the chance to mention yours. I see you in the family text thread where you offer to handle the thing that nobody else has remembered to do. I see you offering, again, the support that you have been quietly waiting decades to receive.
I see you in the evening, when you finally have an hour to yourself and you do not know what to do with it. You think you should rest. You think you should sleep. You think you should call someone. You end up scrolling, half-watching, half-living, until it is time to get into bed and start the cycle again.
I see you at three in the morning when you wake up with the tight chest and the racing mind and the worry that you cannot quite name. I see you doing the calculations about whether you have time to call a therapist. I see you deciding, again, that this week is too busy.
I see you, and I have seen so many people who look like you, and I want to say something to you, gently, that I think you need to hear.
You do not have to carry this alone anymore.
I know it is hard to imagine what that would even mean. You have been carrying it alone for so long that you may not be able to picture the shape of your life without the carrying. The work that I do, with so many of the people who walk into it tired in the way you are tired, is the slow uncarrying. It is the slow recognition that the things you have been holding were never yours to hold by yourself. It is the slow experience of being met — not advised, not fixed, not pushed — by someone who is genuinely able to be there.
I want to tell you, plainly, what I do. I am a Licensed Professional Counselor. I work virtually with adults across Wisconsin and Colorado. I have clients in Madison and Waunakee, in Denver and the Front Range, and in many smaller communities where virtual therapy in Wisconsin and online therapy in Colorado is the only way to access the kind of trauma-informed work I offer. I use EMDR, Brainspotting, ACT, and DBT-informed practice depending on what you need. I move slowly. I do not rush you. I am not going to ask you to tell me your whole story in the first session. I am going to sit with you, learn the shape of who you are, and let the work unfold at the pace your nervous system can hold.
I am not, by the way, the right therapist for everyone. Therapy is intimate, and fit matters. If you and I are not the right fit, I will tell you, kindly, and I will help you find someone who is. The point of this letter is not to convince you to work with me specifically. The point is to convince you that working with someone is possible. The carrying does not have to be your job alone.
If you have read this far, something in you is paying attention. Some part of you, that has been waiting for permission for a long time, is registering this letter as something it has been needing. I would like to give that part the smallest, most concrete next step.
You can schedule a free consultation directly at https://alchemy-practice.clientsecure.me/. It is a fifteen to twenty minute conversation. There is no obligation. You do not have to know what to say. You do not have to have a plan. You can show up exactly as tired as you are. We can sit together for a few minutes and see how it feels. That is all the first step is.
I have been waiting for you to find your way here. So has the version of you who has been carrying everything alone for too long. She is allowed to put it down now. There is help. There is a way through.
If any of this resonates, I want you to know that what you are feeling makes complete sense — and that things can genuinely change. I offer virtual EMDR and trauma therapy for adults across Wisconsin and Colorado, including Madison and Waunakee. If you are ready to take the first step, I would love to connect. You can schedule a free consultation directly at https://alchemy-practice.clientsecure.me/ — no pressure, no obligation, just a quiet conversation to see if working together feels like a fit.