A Love Letter to Withdrawers

Dear Withdrawer,

When you are in my office - at the beginning and terrified to be there, assuming this is all about figuring out how to fix you - I want you to know, I know. I know it’s a big deal for you to go to therapy. I know you would never come on your own. I know you’re here because you love your person so much. 

You fidget on the couch. Take sips of water. You constantly look at your partner as if to say, “Did I get the right answer?”

When you first break, I see your eyes. You’re surprised at your own emotion. Afraid of it even. This is the thing you promised yourself you would never do. Be out of control. Weak. Not have answers.

And then you feel some relief. And that surprises you too.

And then you try to figure out what just happened so you can recreate it.

I know I need to keep pursuing you in a non-pursuer way. I know you’re desperate to be found - but you have no words for that. 

You’re like a deer in the woods. When you come out, everyone is nervous to make a wrong move - you’re so beautiful and we want you to stay. We want to see you as long as possible. But we also know you need to feel safe. 

You need to feel safe to feel.

And so, up to logic and analyzing you go. I’ll go there too. I’ll go there with you. I hope you can see my smile and my eyes. I want you to know - you don’t have to change at all.

It’s more of you we want - not less or different.

When you’re here - really here - it’s sacred. There’s a clearing, and the sun shines through the trees. You and your partner, hand in hand. Equals.

It’s a relief. Now there’s two of you. No more hiding.

With Affection,

Your Pursuer Therapist