Hi there,

I’ve had one of those weeks in my therapy practice where I find myself saying some version of the same thing over and over again. Different people, different histories, different struggles, but something important keeps coming up.

Imagine two scenarios.

In the first, I tell a child that one day I’m going to give her a big stack of white paper and a box of crayons. She’ll be free to draw whatever she wants, however she wants. No judgment, no criticism, no one telling her she’s doing it wrong.

We talk about how wonderful that will be. Maybe we even talk about how difficult it might feel for her, especially if she’s spent her life being told what she’s allowed to express.

In the second scenario, I actually sit down with that child. I hand her the paper and crayons. I tell her she can draw whatever she wants, and I stay with her, encouraging her as she experiments.

Can you feel the difference?

So much of what we do in therapy can get stuck in the first scenario.

We understand our childhoods. We recognize our patterns. We know we need to get better at expressing anger, setting boundaries, asking for what we need, or allowing ourselves pleasure.

We might even have extraordinary insight into why these things are difficult.

But understanding something isn’t the same as experiencing something different.

And that second part requires practice.

One of the things I often invite people to do is create intentional space for emotions they’ve learned to suppress. Anger, grief, joy, pleasure. Not just to think about them, but to let themselves experience and express them in ways that feel manageable.

Sometimes that begins with thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds of stomping your feet. Thirty seconds of allowing sadness to have a little room. Thirty seconds of moving to music that makes you feel alive.

And then noticing what happens.

Which emotion feels familiar? Which one feels forbidden? Where do you immediately want to stop, explain, apologize, or make yourself smaller?

You don’t have to figure everything out before you begin.

In fact, sometimes figuring everything out is how we avoid beginning.

I think about the little girl with the crayons. She doesn’t need another beautiful explanation of why self-expression matters. She needs the paper, the crayons, the permission to make a mess, and someone who can help her feel safe enough to try.

And eventually, she can learn to offer some of that permission and encouragement to herself.

Maybe that’s something you can experiment with this weekend.

What’s one thing you’ve been promising yourself you’ll allow someday?

And what would it look like to give yourself thirty seconds of it today?

Warmly,

Tanya

Tanya Dantus, LMFT, SEP​
Author of The Power of No: Reclaiming Boundaries, Safety, and Your Voice Through the RIFRA Method

www.tanyadantus.com