My therapist – a poem by Claire Sexton

My therapist

I remember the time my therapist
made me cry, but not in a bad way. I
had stated for weeks that I found it
difficult to cry. That the ‘buckets’
people talk about had long been
thrown away. And that tears were
extremely frowned upon ‘back in my
day. Tears=failure. A sign of
weakness.

But as I pondered her Converse, and
hugged my armchair, I became
acutely aware that truth was not the
monster it was, and has been. And
like a medieval anchoress, or modern-
day counsellor, I intuitively understood
that empowerment=stillness. A
spiritual commitment.

So that day I cried freely and I
cherished her words. ‘Your tears are
always welcome here.’

 

Claire Sexton is a fifty year old librarian living in Berkshire, but originally from Wales. She lived in London for twenty years and is currently detoxing from this experience. She has been published in Ink, Sweat and Tears, Foxglove Journal, Amethyst Review, and Light: a Journal of Photography and Poetry.

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