Attempting to Embrace Myself as a Messy Human Being & Mental Health Therapist

Each morning greets me with a familiar rhythm—laundry piles needing folding, dishes stacked in the sink, lunchboxes to unpack or prep again, and the occasional couch fort still standing from the night before.

And if I’m being honest, I used to believe that once I “got it together,” the mess—both literal and emotional would disappear. That a new season, a new relationship, a new job, or a better routine would bring order and ease.

It’s easy to romanticize the idea that once we arrive somewhere else, we’ll finally feel peace.
But being human doesn’t work like that.

Therapy Reminded Me: This Is the Work

I sat in therapy yesterday and heard the words I both needed and didn’t want to hear:

“Can you embrace this part of you—the messy one you keep trying to hide?”

I immediately felt resistance.
Because this is the part I tend to rush past.
The one that gets overwhelmed, says the wrong thing, forgets things, feels too deeply.

I want the polished version of myself to show up and stay.
The one who doesn’t backslide or get caught in old narratives.
But I’m learning, slowly, that my messy self deserves compassion too.

The Myth of the "Healed" Self

In my work as a therapist, I remind people often that healing isn’t linear. We don’t magically arrive at a version of ourselves where we never feel lonely, anxious, reactive, or overwhelmed again.

Yet I catch myself subscribing to that same myth.

I think: “Next month, I’ll feel better. Next season will be calmer.”
I tell myself: “When things slow down, I’ll be more grounded.”

But truthfully? Life doesn’t stop handing us full days.

Healing, like life, is repetitive.
It’s found in the folding, the washing, the showing up.
In choosing softness—over and over again—even when it feels unnatural.

Holding Ourselves Gently

So, here I am, doing the work:
Trying to hold my messier parts gently.
The anxious one. The forgetful one. The part that feels like too much or not enough.

And if I don’t learn to hold her, I’ll miss so much of myself in the process.

I don’t want to rush past the version of me that’s here today.
Because even when it’s messy—this life is mine. And this part is still worthy of love.

What About You?

What parts of yourself have you been learning to embrace?
What messy or tender versions of you have you stopped trying to “fix”?

Feel free to contact me, or sit with this question quietly—either way, you’re not alone.