There’s this thing that happens in therapy, or in any helping profession really, where the focus can so often shift to the past. We dig through memories, examine trauma, and unearth every tiny mistake or poor decision we’ve made. Don’t get me wrong—there’s merit in understanding where we’ve come from. But sometimes, it feels like we’re so caught up in rehashing the past that we forget to ask: “Where do you want to go next?”
It’s funny, isn’t it? How our lives often become these little archives of screw-ups and regrets. But here's the thing—I don't think anyone, not even a therapist or social worker, should spend their time reminding you of how many times you’ve failed. Nine times out of ten, you already know that. You already carry the weight of every bad decision, every time you’ve tripped over your own feet, every mistake that haunts you like a shadow. We don’t need to repeat it. I’ve worked with enough people at rock-bottom to know they don’t need the extra weight of guilt piled on. They’re carrying enough already.
And so, in my own approach to social work, I’ve learned that the best thing I can do is meet people where they are. Not where I think they should be, or where their past dictates they might end up. But exactly where they are in that moment—broken, bruised, unsure, or even just tired. And from that place, we move forward. Together.
Imagine this: You’re at your lowest, sitting across from a stranger who’s meant to “help” you. You’ve spent years stuffing your darkest secrets in a box because—well, who wants to be that vulnerable? Who wants to be the person who’s made mistakes? And yet, there you are, unloading your deepest fears, your most embarrassing regrets, your worst decisions. It’s not easy. It’s not tidy. But somehow, it’s necessary. And there’s a sense of relief in it. A tiny weight lifts because finally, someone is hearing you. Finally, someone sees you for what you are in this moment, not for who you once were or who you should have been.
The thing about people is that we don’t follow neat little lines. Thoughts aren’t linear. Feelings aren’t linear. Decisions sure as hell aren’t linear. Some days, you wake up feeling like a completely different person than you did yesterday. One minute, you’re certain about something, and the next, you’ve changed your mind entirely. We evolve, we grow, we learn—and sometimes, we do all those things in fits and starts. So, it baffles me that we expect anyone, including ourselves, to have all the answers right now, to fit neatly into a box, or to have a perfect, clean slate. The truth is, we’re all just figuring it out. And that’s okay.
I meet people who’ve made unwise choices and bad decisions, but what I also meet is their humanity. I see them for who they are in this moment—someone who has the right to change their mind, to change their path, to take another shot at doing better. It doesn’t matter what they’ve done or what they didn’t do. What matters is who they are now and who they could become.
And here’s the thing about people: they have the right to change. They have the right to evolve. And I think sometimes we forget that. In a world that’s obsessed with labelling people and putting them in neat little categories, we forget that growth doesn’t happen on a straight line. People aren’t defined by their past mistakes, and thank God for that. Because, if we were, I’d still be defined by some of my most cringeworthy moments. We all would.
So when I sit down with someone, I don’t remind them of their failures. I don’t drag them back into the dark places they’ve already been. I meet them where they are—in all their mess, in all their confusion, in all their uncertainty. I give them space to feel human and to explore where they want to go. And together, we take one small step forward.
Because, here’s the secret no one tells you: the journey doesn’t always look the way you expect it to. It’s not a straight line. It’s messy. It’s complicated. And sometimes, the most important thing is just showing up, right where you are.
And that, I think, is how we heal. Not by holding up a mirror to the past, but by standing with someone in the present and helping them find a way forward. After all, that’s what we all really want, isn’t it? To be seen. To be heard. To be met where we are and accepted, exactly as we are. No strings attached. No judgment. Just the quiet understanding that we’re all doing our best to figure this whole thing out.
Kathryn
(Joyful Sarcasm)
Hi Aryan! Wow, reading your comment truly made my day—thank you for sharing this. It means so much to know that my words connected with you in such a meaningful way. Writing can be such a vulnerable experience, so hearing that it felt like a personal therapy session for you is just the kind of motivation I need to keep going. I’m so grateful there are people like you who take the time to reflect and share their hearts so openly. Sending you lots of strength and warmth on this journey, and always here whenever you need these words again. ❤️🩹
This was so wholesome to read!! Thanks so much for sharing this glimmer :)