Chapter 1: A Distressing Memory

Years ago, while enrolled at UC Berkeley, I sought counseling from the University Health Services. Though I can't pinpoint the exact reason for my distress—likely a typical blend of anxiety over grades, friendships, jobs, and relationships—I do remember two significant details from that session. The first was the feeling of dread when I was assigned to a therapist who shared my name. At a time when I was already feeling vulnerable, hearing her introduce herself as Lisa was a blow.

It struck me hard because the name Lisa seemed to belong to a certain era; all the Lisas I had encountered were born between 1965 and 1975, suggesting she was my peer. This realization was unsettling. The name's popularity peaked when Lisa Marie Presley was in the spotlight, and during my school years, the number of Lisas was so high that we often had to use our last initials on assignments. This context made hearing “Lisa” immediately conjure up associations about age and life experience.

That day in the 90s, I yearned for an “Edna”—someone older, potentially offering the wisdom I craved. Instead, I felt trapped in a situation where both of us were inexperienced, leading to my sense of despair.

I chose to stay, despite my apprehension, but the specifics of our conversation elude me. I do vividly recall breaking down in tears at one point; when she offered me a tissue, I declined it. My struggle with feelings of inadequacy was palpable—I was surrounded by intelligent peers, and I felt undeserving of simple comforts like a tissue. As she urged me to accept it, I managed to voice my thoughts: “I suppose it’s a public school, and I pay taxes,” which was the only way I could rationalize taking the tissue.

I avoided therapy for over thirty years following that experience, but everything changed last week. I scheduled and attended a session with a new therapist. On the intake form, I summarized my issues with, “I struggle with self-regulation, and my previous coping strategies have failed me.”

The first session was quite different—filled with initial discussions and what I would describe as a “gentle” cry, far removed from the ugly sobbing of my college days. Most importantly, I accepted the tissues he offered, taking an extra for later.

Additionally, I noticed he had small bottles of water, similar to those meant for toddlers, on a shelf. I paused to inquire if they were available for clients. He confirmed they were, which was a small victory for me. Accepting the Kleenex and advocating for myself to get some water felt empowering.

While I still seek guidance, I’m relieved to recognize the progress I've made since that earlier experience. Yet, it seems we’ll still need to confront the same old worries about grades, friendships, jobs, and relationships.

In this insightful video, "Signs your therapist doesn't understand narcissism," viewers can gain valuable insights into recognizing when a therapist may not be the right fit for addressing complex emotional issues.

Chapter 2: A New Beginning

The video "How to Choose A Name For Your Private Practice (for therapists)" offers guidance for therapists looking to establish their practice, emphasizing the importance of branding and self-identity in therapy settings.