After a many-years hiatus I entered back into therapy in the spring of 2015. I found my clinician via the EAP network provided by my former place of employment. Work stress initially brought me in; I was seeking tools to help manage them, but it turned out that the work stress was really just old anxieties and issues rearing their head in an unstable, sometimes toxic work environment. Hey, we’ve likely all been there, but I really felt like I was going mad. I needed some help.

I will never forget the first time I met Robin. She was an older woman with a kind smile. She had shorter hair, dressed comfortable (read crunchy) and had terribly ugly shoes. I had not discussed being a lesbian when we scheduled our first appointment so I was a little worried how that would go over in central mass where my feminine identity already blew peoples minds. It was fine though, as fate sometimes allows, Robin was also a lesbian, and I felt comfortable with her immediately. She was warm, loving, smart, maternal, and quite thoughtful. I had not delved into my complex history with the EAP intake coordinator so I don’t think she knew what was going to unfold when she opted to take my case. You see, Robin had just begun practicing again after having been cleared by her oncologist as ‘in remission’ from cervical cancer. She let me know that first day. She was fully transparent about her disease. She was on many medications and was feeling good. At least, that’s what she shared. She wanted me to always be comfortable to ask her questions and opened the door for me to.

My entire life I thought I’d been dealing with daddy issues but it was through those early weeks with Robin where my complex trauma and anxiety issues showed that they stemmed from trauma and neglect by my mother. Robin was incredibly loving and tender through those hard, fact finding sessions; something that I have only recently come to understand was not the best boundary, given my issues with attachment and abandonment.

I felt like I was on top of the world in 2015. Robin was helping me sort things into place for myself to grow my business, and I was able to go to part time at my job, I was working on all my shit, and I had this lovely woman support system cheering me on. Of course it was too good to be true. Of course.

In late October 2016, Robin caught a “bug” and we never saw each other again. There were multiple text messages between us throughout the rest of the year and into February. For all the transparency we had had, things got blurry and confusing and I personally started to slide again. I missed her terribly and I was unsure what was going on, she never said she was out of remission, she went from having a bug, to having an infection to feeling a bit better in February to dead. I guess i should back up just a bit to say that I knew I was slipping and had reached out to see if I could speak with someone else while Robin recovered. Robins business partner at the counseling center was also her wife, and she helped to arrange a new clinician to see me.

I met this new therapist on March 24, 2016 in the same office building where I had been seeing Robin. She was kind and wanted to help but her personality was not really a match for me. Still, I tried, because I knew I needed help. I was missing Robin something fierce, especially since I was going to the same building every week. I asked about her to my new therapist but she did not give any information. One night, about four weeks into seeing my new therapist I did some FB sleuthing for Robin. Her obituary was the first thing to come up, she died on March 24, 2016.

Oh the ache…the deep, sharp pain of loss coupled with the betrayal I felt by my new therapist was a place I never want to visit again. More than anything, in the beginning I ached for her and her family– that this beautiful soul whom I had felt so close to was gone. Brilliant, bright life snuffed dark too soon. I add Robin to my already too-long list of amazing people I’ve loved, gone too soon.

The experience and the loss have been weighing heavily on my mind this week, I think PMS may be compounding the height of the emotions, but either way, I’ve been aware. Because it was handled so badly, because there was not a good bye, I am struggling with closure. More than anything I just wish I could have told her how much she meant to me.

It is because of the work that I did with her that I am still in therapy today. I am grateful beyond measure that our paths crossed. I’m spending some time in my head and heart today honoring and remembering her, our relationship, and tools she gave me. I’m ignoring the messy feelings of how it was handled and sending so much love out to her wherever her energy may be. (I’m thinking these days she plays angel to her grand babies, whom she so often spoke of.)