By Gina //

What do you do when your first experience with a psychologist is painful?

What happens when that experience is followed by several others that leave you feeling misunderstood, unsafe, or unheard?

Do you continue seeking help, or do you begin to believe that such support is simply not meant for you?

My early experiences with psychologists were marked by feeling rushed, misunderstood, and emotionally exposed without adequate support. I often felt pressured to share before I was ready, or left sessions feeling worse than when I entered. At times, my reactions were minimized, and my distress was interpreted as resistance rather than fear. On one occasion, my identity and confidentiality were compromised, which deeply affected my sense of safety and trust. As a result, I became fearful of engaging with another psychologist, carrying a persistent anxiety around trust into every subsequent therapeutic space. Over time, these experiences led me to believe that therapy was not a safe space for me, and that seeking help might cause more harm than healing.

By the time I attended my first session with a new psychologist on 29 February 2024, I was afraid.. I entered that room guarded, uncertain, and preparing myself for disappointment.

Yet, from the beginning, she was different.

There was an immediate sense of safety — not something that can be easily explained, but something deeply felt. Her presence was calm and grounded.

I entered the room guarded, uncertain, and braced for disappointment. The space itself was quiet and uncluttered, with soft lighting that felt intentional rather than clinical. I remember sitting down and noticing how my body remained tense, shoulders tight, breath shallow. She did not rush to speak. Instead, she met my gaze briefly, her tone measured and steady, and invited me to take my time. There was no clipboard held between us, no sense of being assessed or hurried.

What made her different was not anything dramatic, but the way she was present. She listened without interruption, nodded without prompting, and allowed silence to exist without trying to fill it. When she spoke, her words were careful and grounded, as if she were checking that each one landed safely. In that moment, I realised I was being treated not as a problem to be solved, but as a person to be understood. That was when the sense of safety emerged — quietly and convincingly.

She listened without judgment, without rushing, and without trying to force progress before I was ready. For the first time in a long while, I felt seen as a person rather than a problem.

Through Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT), she guided me with patience and care. CPT provided a structure that I had not experienced in previous modalities. Rather than focusing solely on recounting traumatic events, CPT helped me examine the beliefs I had formed because of those experiences. With guidance, I learned to identify distorted thoughts — particularly those related to blame, safety, trust, and self-worth — and to evaluate them more realistically. This approach helped me feel grounded and empowered, rather than overwhelmed. The therapy worked not only because of the modality itself, but because it was delivered with patience, collaboration, and respect for my pace. Together, we examined the beliefs I had internalized over years of trauma — beliefs that told me I was at fault, that my pain defined me, that my past determined my worth. With her support, I began to understand a truth I had never fully accepted before: what happened to me was not my fault.

Beyond therapy techniques, she helped me reconnect with my identity — the part of me that existed before trauma, and the part of me that had quietly endured through it. She helped me see my resilience not as something accidental, but as something real and meaningful.

She changed my perception of psychologists entirely.

After several negative experiences, I had come to associate therapy with fear and emotional harm. But she showed me what safe, ethical, and compassionate psychological care truly looks like.

I could feel the difference — in the consistency of her support, in the respect she showed my boundaries, and in the way she created a space where healing felt possible. After several negative experiences, I had come to associate therapy with fear and emotional harm. What made this experience different was not a single moment, but a consistent pattern of care. She checked in before difficult discussions, reminded me that I could pause at any time, and validated my reactions instead of questioning them. When I struggled to speak, she allowed silence rather than filling it. When I blamed myself, she gently challenged those beliefs with evidence and compassion. Through these small but steady actions, she showed me what safe, ethical, and compassionate psychological care truly looks like.

This piece is dedicated to this psychologist, who is now leaving the non-profit organization where our paths crossed.

While her departure marks the end of a chapter, it is not the end of her impact. I am certain she will continue to support, inspire, and guide many others in their healing journeys. The work she does matters. The way she shows up matters.

Because of her, I am still here.

Still learning.

Still healing.

Still riding the waves.

And because of her, I believe — deeply — that recovery is possible, even after everything.

Reflecting on my story, I think it is useful for each of us to remember the last time we felt truly safe being vulnerable. Many of us carry the weight of past disappointments, and it is worth considering how much those experiences have shaped — or limited — what we believe is possible in our healing. Perhaps the harder question is whether, despite being hurt before, we can still find the courage to keep trying. Healing is rarely linear, and trust is often rebuilt slowly, but it is in these moments of persistence that change becomes possible.

Gina is a 22-year-old youth advocate who is currently pursuing early childhood education. She loves working with children and believes that everyone’s mental health starts from a young age. By sharing her story, she hopes to inspire others on their mental health journeys. Gina has also created a free resource directory to help young children (7-12) & youths (13-25) easily access mental health support, which can be found here: (https://linktr.ee/ginaaax.hb). She also really likes bubble tea and baking.

Read more of our Tapestry Stories here.

Image by Gina