Looking at my calendar this morning, I realized that my therapy career will come to a close exactly three months from today. And on that day, I will step away from a core component of my life for the past thirty-nine years. It all seems so surreal to me. First, I never thought I would live long enough to retire. Retirement has always been one of those normal developmental milestones that I saw in other people’s stories. But I never saw it in my own narrative.

I remember being newly diagnosed with cancer and unable to work because of multiple surgeries within a short span of time. During my time away, I asked the people who loved me the most, “Who am I if I am not a therapist?” I felt desperate to hang onto my career. I lost my breast, my hair, my energy, and my athleticism. I could not lose my professional identity too. And yet years later, the decision to retire is me releasing that same identity that I had tenaciously clung to so long ago.

And while letting go of my identity as a therapist is scary, it is also exciting. Deconstructing my sense of self frees me to discover parts of myself that I have yet to see or touch. It enables me to stop focusing on the roles I carry or the accomplishments I achieve. It allows me not to do, but to be. It challenges me, once and for all to face the question, “Am I enough?” Just me. Without the title. Without the role. Without the credentials. Just me. Am I enough if I focus on taking care of myself instead of taking care of others? Just me nurturing me.

And so, when people ask my plans for retirement, I tell them I do not know. Because if I truly want to answer those soulful questions, I can not replace the role of therapist with another role that, once again, puts my focus on others. Instead, I need to spend my time doing things that fill me with joy. Things like cycling, painting, writing, swimming, and reading. I also need to spend my time in rest and in stillness, in reflection and in prayer. It is still murky waters to me, where I can just see the surface in this moment. But I step out in faith because I believe there is beauty in walking into the unknown.

I will keep you updated, my dear readers. Be well.