I was thinking about that first time I really felt heard.

I was in college and really struggling with depression and things I had no understanding of such as flashbacks and dissociation. I didn't have names for what I was experiencing and really felt like I was losing my mind.

I was involved with the Methodist center on campus, and the campus minister was astute enough to see me as someone struggling. I hadn't said anything to him, but he was observant. One day he came to me and just laid open the invitation to talk if I ever needed to. It took months for me to get up the courage to actually go to him and talk, but eventually I did.

He heard me. He heard me and immediately put me in touch with the man who would become my first therapist . . . who also heard me.

It was such a relief to just be heard -- to have a voice that could finally be heard. And the hearing turned into helping and healing and empowerment over time and many, many sessions over the next several decades with several different really excellent therapists.

Be heard was that first step in healing for me, and without ever being heard I know I would not have survived. I am ever grateful for those particular people in my life who chose to go into the business of hearing.