Reflections on questions I don’t fully or always know how to answer…
I’m a therapist. I’m also the strong friend. And I’m an introvert. Which means I spend most of my life holding space for others. Listening carefully, asking thoughtful questions, noticing what’s left unsaid, and helping people untangle emotions they’ve been carrying quietly for years. What most people don’t realize is that when you live in that role long enough, something subtle happens. You forget how to answer the question, “How are you?” Not because you don’t have feelings, but because you’re so used to no one asking. As the strong friend, you become the safe place. As the therapist, you become the container. As the introvert, you become accustomed to processing internally instead of externally. So when someone genuinely pauses and asks how I am, really asks, I sometimes freeze. My mind scans for a socially acceptable, low-maintenance response. I downplay. I summarize. I deflect with humor. I say, “I’m fine” or “I’m good, just busy,” even when there’s an entire novel living inside m...