Yes, I Talked Around the Real Issue for 6 Weeks

I didn’t lie in therapy.

But I definitely… performed.

You know the drill: I told stories. I made jokes. I dropped self-awareness like it was emotional currency. I sounded healed. Insightful. Evolved.

But I wasn’t talking about it.

The real thing.

The one buried just deep enough to hide behind clever metaphors and polished reflections.

Every week, I’d leave my session thinking, We’re dancing around it. I’m dancing around it. And then I’d feel guilty for wasting time—hers and mine. But also relieved. Because what if digging it up made everything worse?

Avoidance is one of the most sophisticated defense systems I’ve ever built. And in therapy? It wears a disguise that even I can admire. I’m not dodging, I’m just being thorough. I’m laying groundwork. I’m processing context.

Nah. I was scared.

Scared of what would happen if I stopped intellectualizing my pain and actually felt it.

Scared that naming the thing would make it real.

Scared that if I let the armor drop for even a second, the weight underneath it would crush me.

But one day, I finally said it. Clumsily. Quietly. Half out of breath.

And my therapist didn’t flinch. Didn’t look disappointed.

She just nodded and said, “Okay. Let’s sit with that.”

And we did. And it didn’t destroy me.

Turns out, the thing I’d been avoiding for six weeks?

It was waiting patiently for me.

It didn’t demand drama or fireworks. It just wanted to be seen—without performance. Without polish. Without me wrapping it in a bow.

I’m still good at talking around things. But now I notice when I do.

And sometimes, I even stop myself mid-sentence and say, “Wait. That’s not it. Let me try again.”

That’s growth.

Messy, delayed, hard-earned growth.

And it counts.