Episode 1: Why I Started Going to Therapy in the First Place

It took something really heart-breaking...

When I was a kid, I used to spend my summers at home watching TV all day. There were no fancy summer camps back then (not ones that my parents could afford anyway). I loved getting to watch all the daytime TV that I missed out on during the school year. Daytime talk shows I probably shouldn’t have been watching—like Joan Rivers, Phil Donahue, and Geraldo Rivera—were my vices. Whether you remember these shows or not will either make me feel really old or remind you that you’re super young (and way younger than me).

Whenever I would watch these talk shows (which mostly consisted of family drama and arguing), I would hear from those around me, in Thai, what translated to “American people have so many problems. They are always on these shows.” I often agreed not knowing what I was actually nodding my head to.

Did that mean that Asian people didn’t have problems?

Or did it mean that we just didn’t go on TV to talk about them?

Did we store them up inside until we burst? (I now know the answer to that one!)

I spent my tween and teen years developing angst, acne, and anxiety. While I was a mostly straight-A student, I felt the weight of needing to be perfect, to do well on my SATs, and to always make my parents proud. I also struggled with self-confidence and the identity issues that came with being an Asian-American girl in the 80’s and 90’s.

My parents were in the Thai restaurant business, so they worked a lot. Because of their work schedule, I was able to have lots of time on my own and little supervision (every teen’s dream). But I also didn’t have anyone to talk to when I felt stressed or overwhelmed. By the time my parents came home from work, I had likely already worked through it on my own and rarely bothered them with my problems. And, to be honest, I likely wouldn’t have thought to come to them even if they did have normal work hours. Culturally, we just didn’t talk about our problems. So I learned to hold it in…really well.

I would hold it and hold it and hold it…

…until I would burst…

…and randomly cry somewhere (in class, in my room, in the shower—or later on in life—even at work.)

This is all to tell you that I never realized that I needed help with my anxiety or the way I handled stress, until the worst possible thing happened.

In 2004, one of my best friends passed away unexpectedly. It was the worst period of my life emotionally. I was 24 at the time and hadn’t lost anyone close to me before. I cried every day for several months and found myself unable to function at work. I was just moving through the motions of life unable to understand why I deserved to still be here when she wasn’t. I knew in my head that therapy would probably be helpful, but all the voices inside me said that I could get through it myself—that I needed to be strong.

And, my brain told me, “Asian people don’t go to therapy.”

A couple years later—after huge life milestones like getting engaged, starting my business, and getting married—the grief and loss still loomed. So, I finally found myself a therapist (in Philadelphia where I lived at the time).

While I found it awkward, at first, to tell such personal stories to a stranger, I slowly got more comfortable and began to trust my therapist more and more. Going to therapy was the release I never knew I needed and finally had. The never-ending knots in my stomach were easing up, and the grey clouds that followed me around were suddenly lightening up. I could talk to this person with no fear of judgement, being too chatty, or burdening her with my problems (all things I felt I was doing if I unloaded to loved ones). While I had trusted friends and a great husband for emotional support by that point in my life, this was a different type of person—a different type of support.

This was the therapist that started my journey with therapy almost 20 years ago, and I will never forget her for every second of every minute she listened to me, let me cry, and gave me the space to slowly heal from the biggest loss of my life.

Image created by me with Midjourney AI—what I imagine a chic therapist’s office could look like!

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