The first time I sought the counsel of a therapist was after my first heartbreak in college. I knew back then that I wanted to be a therapist, but that I had to understand myself before I could begin to understand how to help others. With the support of my counselor's compassion, life experience and encouragement, she assured me that my broken heart would mend, that I could do more to take care of myself, and that eventually life would feel good again.

What I wasn’t sure of the first time I sat on her couch was if she was right. As I shared my grief, and felt her kindness, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and hoped. I hoped that one day I would be able to turn my suffering into something useful that could help others. I didn’t want to suffer just because “life is suffering.” That wasn’t good enough. I knew I was here to help others, I just needed to learn how to help myself first.

Once I got through the consuming ache of my sorrow, I started interviewing her about how she got to sit in that chair – the therapist’s chair. From that point on I dedicated myself to learning all I could about the human experience, about relationships, trauma, healing, and about myself.

Now, every day that I sit in the therapist’s chair, I am so grateful for the journey that has gotten me to a place where I can help hold someone else’s sorrow, grief, fear, or bewilderment, and help them make meaning out of it. There is a lot of suffering in this life, but there is also a lot of joy, a lot of beautiful days, a lot of love to share with friends and family. There is not a single thing I would rather do than help others reconnect with themselves, with their loved ones, and with a life that includes not only suffering, but much more beauty and joy.

One of the things I do every Monday is buy a bouquet of flowers for my office (it’s a self-care ritual). All week long they bring me joy and remind me of the abundant beauty in life. One afternoon I had a client on my couch, deep in his suffering. He looked up, glanced at the gorgeous bouquet of colorful roses, and said, “Those are beautiful. They give me hope.”