maybe this is obvious, but i had a thought the other day about "therapy love" and wanted to share..

so we go to therapy, share all this stuff about ourselves - our dreams, our fears, all our deep, dark secrets, the awful experiences we've had, and the terrible things that we've done in our lives..

and yet this person, our therapist, continues to offer us compassion, understanding, time, energy, attention, and support - over and over again. they don't judge us, or treat us with conditions, or tell us to go away because they think we're too messed up. they just continue to open their doors to us week after week and listen to our stories..

it's no wonder we love them so much!

(like i said, maybe this is obvious, but it actually *just* occured to me!)