Finding Your Foundation

Hope, Risk, Vulnerability, Commitment, and Humor

First, I remind everyone that I am not a licensed therapist or psychiatrist. I merely share my 81 years of experience.

The process of healing isn’t a highway; it’s a landscape. There is no start line and no finish line. It’s simply where we choose to stand, over and over, with vulnerability and hope as our only compass.

My Mistake

It is a mistake to believe you can point to a calendar date and say, “This is when I began to heal,” or to anxiously demand, “When will I ever get better?” Healing is a process without end.

My biggest mistake was mistaking function for fine. I performed the necessary steps: made it through high school, worked my way through college, chased a vision of the West. There were bad jobs, boyfriends that drifted, and a marriage that ended in a hard-won lesson. On the surface, the chronicling of a life.

Yet, reading through my old journals from those years confirms the truth: I was only fine on the outside. Inside, there was a constant, restless searching, a hollow place the activity couldn’t fill. I had accomplished the essential things—the hiking, the travel, the time spent in nature where I felt most at home—but a vital piece was always missing.

Does any of this sound familiar?

Therapy Works

If you are standing in that space, wondering where to turn next, here is a piece of data to hold onto: Therapy works.

How often does it work? The research is consistently reassuring:

Significant benefit: The American Psychological Association (APA) and other organizations have found that around 75% of people who attend psychotherapy sessions experience symptom relief and positive life changes.

Improved coping: Therapy provides the necessary skills for managing life’s inevitable difficulties. One survey found that 86% of people felt therapy helped them cope with their struggles.

Long-lasting effects: For many, the improvements last. One study noted that 77% of individuals maintained their improvements a year after treatment ended.

What Can I Do Now?

The commitment to healing, to finding your true self, is often made in small, daily choices.

• Commit to the work.

• Read. Knowledge is a form of light.

• Keep a journal. Give the searching part of yourself an honest stage.

• Find the right therapist for you. (We will dedicate a full post to this later.)

• Talk to a friend you trust. Vulnerability is not a weakness; it is a fundamental strength.

My Story

The first crack in my foundation came through my second husband. He was a therapist, trained to see the subtle signs that others miss. “Do you realize you sometimes go away?” he asked. Not physically, but that internal retreat, that mental absence.

That moment was a painful, necessary confrontation that sparked the real work. I got help, and while I am content now, the learning never ends.

Although therapy is a necessary beginning, healing takes many directions and many forms. Think of the healing process not as a road, but as a vast tree, the branches constantly growing in many directions, always reaching toward the light. The roots grow deep into the sustaining earth. I’ll share how I discovered my many branches and roots in following posts.

The most difficult part of healing is the willingness—the deep commitment—to risk being vulnerable. You need the hope that enables that risk, and the commitment to never give up. If one branch of exploration leads nowhere, try another.

Remember the pillars:

Hope, Risk, Vulnerability, Commitment, and Humor. (We’ll dive into why humor is so critical in a future post.)

Books

My two published novels of The Texian Trilogy, At What Cost, Silence? and War and Preservation, are grounded in this struggle. They illustrate the main character’s attempt to find his authentic self in a world where secrets and betrayal shape his every decision. As war looms and families fracture, the reader is left asking: how much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice to preserve appearances, to keep peace, or to protect love?

Favorite Read this Month

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson, a National Book Award Finalist.

The book’s core is the struggle of a high school freshman named Melinda. From the first day, she knows the “speak up for yourself” message is a lie. She’s an outcast because she called the cops to bust an end-of-summer party. As she becomes isolated and stops talking, her only solace is her art class. It is through her art that she finally begins to face what truly happened at that party: a rape by an upperclassman who is still a presence in her school.

Her healing process, messy and non-linear, has just begun when she has another violent encounter. This time, Melinda fights back—and refuses to be silent.

This book is fantastic reading for young people and adults alike. I wish I could have read it when I was in school; I might not have felt so alone. If you have a child between 12 and 17, give them this book. Perhaps, like me, you will see yourself in these pages, or someone you know.