Being different and being enough

Some of us have always known we were different. Maybe not in a dramatic way—just quietly, persistently other. Maybe we didn’t like what everyone else liked. Maybe we saw things sideways, or felt things more deeply, or never quite found a rhythm that matched the people around us.

There’s grief in that. Especially if growing up meant hiding parts of ourselves just to stay safe. For some, this difference touches identity—sexuality, neurodivergence, gender, culture—and the need to adapt becomes a survival skill. We learn to blend, to smile, to say what’s expected.

But something in us waits. For belonging. For resonance. For someone who sees us and doesn't flinch. In therapy, that waiting can begin to soften. Difference stops being something to overcome. It becomes something we’re allowed to understand. To care for. To name with tenderness rather than shame.

We start to realise that belonging doesn’t mean sameness—it means being seen. And maybe, for the first time, we find the courage to be visible.

Therapy offers a space where the parts of us that felt too much—or not enough—can be welcomed, understood, and slowly, lived out loud.