The Relationships That Make Up My Work

It took me a long time to settle into this role. I didn't always know this kind of work existed, or that I could do it. Now that I have found it, I get excited about the opportunity to do it every day.

There is something meaningful about building a relationship with someone, understanding what brings them into the room, and working together to develop a plan that fits their needs. Every person is different.

Every relationship develops differently, and the work we do together changes with what that person needs at that moment in their life.

I get to be present for those beginnings. I get to meet someone, learn about their experiences, and help them find ways to understand what is happening in their lives. Together, we explore what they are carrying, what they want to change, and what might help them move forward.

The work requires care, responsibility, and accountability. When someone comes through my door, I have a responsibility to provide a space where they can feel safe enough to explore difficult things. I cannot determine what they will discover or what choices they will make, but I can offer a relationship in which those questions can be considered.

That relationship matters.

It also comes with an understanding that it will not last forever.

Some people come into counselling during a difficult period and leave when they feel ready to continue on their own. Others may return later when their circumstances change or they need a different kind of support. Some relationships are brief, while others develop over a longer period.

Each has its own beginning, its own purpose, and eventually, its own ending.

There is grief in that, although it is not necessarily the heavy kind of grief we associate with death or the painful ending of a personal relationship.

There can be sadness in recognizing that the work we have been doing together has reached its conclusion. Someone who has been part of my working life, sometimes for months or years, is no longer coming through the door.

We have shared time, conversations, difficult moments, and discoveries. I have witnessed parts of their lives that others may not have seen. I have watched them work through challenges, reconsider old patterns, and develop different ways of understanding themselves.

Then the work comes to an end.

Sometimes that ending is planned. Sometimes circumstances change.

Sometimes the person decides they no longer need the support, and sometimes life takes them in another direction. Whatever the reason, the relationship changes because the purpose that brought us together has changed.

I have come to appreciate that this is part of the work, rather than something that takes away from it.

The relationship does not need to last indefinitely to have value. What matters is what happens within it, what the person is able to take away, and how that experience supports them beyond our time together.

I think about the tools people develop, the insights they discover, and the ways they begin to show up differently in their lives. They may carry those things into relationships I will never see, decisions I will never hear about, and experiences I will never know they have had.

That is part of what makes this work meaningful to me. I get to contribute to someone's life without needing to remain a part of every chapter that follows.

There is a responsibility in that, too. My role is not to make someone dependent on me or to become the person who determines what their life should look like. It is to support their ability to understand themselves, make choices, and develop ways of caring for themselves that they can carry forward.

The relationship provides a place to do that work. It is not the destination.

I find myself thinking about how this connects with the rest of my life. I have experienced relationships that ended, people who moved on, and connections that no longer have a place in my present. I know that an ending can bring sadness, questions, and reflection. I also know that not every ending needs to be treated as a failure.

Sometimes a relationship has done what it needed to do.

That does not mean there was nothing more to learn or that everything went perfectly. It means that the relationship has reached a point where continuing it in the same way is no longer necessary.

In my work, I can recognize that a person may return, or they may not.

We may reconnect in the future under different circumstances, or our paths may never cross again. I cannot know what will happen, and I do not need to know.

What I can do is be present for the work in front of me.

I can offer care, provide a space for reflection, and help someone explore the possibilities available to them. I can take responsibility for my part in the relationship and respect their responsibility for theirs. I can recognize the significance of the time we have shared without expecting that connection to continue beyond its purpose.

I am still learning what it means to hold these relationships. I care about the people I work with, and I value the opportunity to witness their growth. At the same time, I understand that their lives belong to them.

They will continue to change, and I will continue to change, too.

The work itself will continue to evolve. There will be new people, new questions, different challenges, and new opportunities to learn. The relationships will begin and end, but the experience of doing this work will continue to shape how I understand myself and the people around me.

I did not always know that this was a role I could occupy. Now that I have found it, I am excited to keep doing it. I look forward to the beginnings, the work that unfolds, and the moments when someone begins to see themselves or their circumstances differently.

And I accept that those relationships will eventually come to an end.

There is no need to make them permanent for them to matter. There is no need to hold on when the work is complete.

For now, there are still people to meet, relationships to build, and work to do. I get to show up, offer what I can, and witness the people who come through my door as they find their own ways forward.

That is enough.

And there is still a long way to go.