Noelle, A woman known for her smile and contagious laugh, is no stranger to facing difficult situations. Her smiling eyes radiate her nurturing nature and eagerness to lend a helping hand when needed, often at the expense of her own needs. As a child, she expressed her emotions with judgment attached to them, leaving her feeling unsafe to open up to those closest to her. To protect herself, she began to hold her feelings in and withdraw to her safe space, her room. As she grew up, solitude became a sign of safety, and she often enjoyed her alone time.

In adulthood, she met and married in a whirlwind 3-month romance. Once it began, there was no turning back. She quickly found herself immersed in her husband’s world, not leaving much room for anything else. Behind the illusion of happily ever after, jealousy, control, and anger surfaced quickly. Feeling like she was stuck in the marriage she chose, she stayed for eight years. She became a mother to two beautiful children, a daughter and a son. They not only became her world but her sense of calm in what felt like, at times, an uncomfortable dream she couldn’t wake up from.

Instead of describing marriage as a safe, comforting, and loving environment, she described her marriage as facing a wildfire with a glass of water in hand for protection. No matter her efforts to defuse the intensity of the blazing fire whirling around her, she would ultimately be engulfed in it. Alcohol, drugs, and anger were the backdrop to the end of a not-so- fairy tale ending. When Noelle finally had the courage and strength to leave her marriage, headlines of a double homicide- suicide became her reality.

Not knowing if she was going to make it from one day to the next, a search started for a therapist who could hold space for her tremendous loss. Handed a list of names with brief descriptions of potential therapists, she didn’t want any of them. As a family member saw the frustration on her face, they suggested doing a Google search for a therapist for parents of murdered children. One name came up in her area. She called and left a message, and a quick returned phone call would be just the beginning of nothing short of divine intervention.

A shield of anger as protection was worn as she sat down on a couch across from a stranger. Her shield started to lower as she began to feel more and more comfortable sharing her story in front of a calming presence that created a no-judgement space. She felt a sense of relief wash over her as she had found someone with whom she felt safe enough to open up freely. This would be the beginning of her healing journey through the unknown.

For many years, she walked in and out of a room that was a second home to her. Tears, frustration, anger, tough conversations, and even laughter were shared with openness and hope. a pillow with her children’s faces on it was placed on a chair in her line of sight as she worked on getting comfortable with seeing her children in a different light than the guilt she felt inside. As she worked through the phases of her tragedy, showing more compassion towards herself was a repeated theme. From taking a hammer safely to things she brought in to shatter, to a sand tray, to writing, to photography, to EMDR, and talking to the different parts of herself, to name a few, gave her various ways to express how she was feeling inside and process the emotions that were coming up.

Healing continued outside the four walls of safety and began to widen into the real world. Making difficult decisions, planning, facing, collecting, collaborating, grief groups, changing her identity, and becoming someone she didn’t recognize. When the outside became too much, she had a place to return to and express her frustrations and grief. A place to pause, breathe deeply, ground, and reset before tackling the next thing. She often thought about how lucky she was to have such a place where judgment didn’t exist.

Somewhere along her journey, she started to experience extreme fatigue and insomnia. As her symptoms intensified without an understanding of what was going on, she wasn’t left to go through it alone. Once again, a calming presence was on the other side of the phone, offering support, compassion, and resources as she once again endured a difficult period. It took some time with a traumatic road to answers, but she finally found some relief.

Today, she sits on a couch for the last time, across from someone who has become so much more than just a therapist. They showed her what safety felt like being in their presence. Truly feeling safe is underrated until you have been living in survival mode for so long. Life’s most precious gifts are the non-material ones. They are the compassion, the warm embraces, the tears, the conversations, the laughter, and knowing someone was always there to cheer you on. It’s bittersweet as Noelle stands up from the couch where she poured her heart out for the last time and walks over to give one last hug to her number one cheerleader. As she makes her way through the door to the outside, she takes with her the things she had learned and experienced from a safe space where she was gifted the seeds to blossom into her best self with hope in her heart.

Instead of a goodbye, it’s a see you around with a wink and smile in passing.

-Noelle