Describing Desahogos

The Diccionario de la Lengua Española defines a desahogo as "alivio de la pena, trabajo o aflicción" and the Cambridge Dictionary translates it to "relief, release". I grew up hearing this word regularly and always understood it to mean a kind of unburdening, release and maybe even a sort of "venting session". At least in Puerto Rico, it would literally translate to something along the lines of "to un-drown", referring to the idea that whatever is on the person's mind is drowning them and the conversation would help them to find relief. It was understood that this was informal, generally with friends or family, and it was a space to express whatever has been weighing heaving on you recently. Sometimes it was an opportunity to hear some helpful feedback or advice, but often it was simply an opportunity to be witnessed and held.

I've been providing therapy in one way or another for about the last decade and I've been feeling an unfamiliar discomfort growing in my belly for the last few years. Between the political climate, changes in my personal life, rematriating to Borikén, moving away from academia as my marker for success and the beginning of my journey to reconnect with ancestral practices, I realized that traditional talk therapy would not be my space forever. I knew that something was stirring in my spirit and it would be a new kind of offering that would provide a type of healing that so many of us have never had or have forgotten due to colonialism. During my own healing journey, I learned that my parts carry the story that they will never be seen or heard fully and therefore stay hidden and quiet. They had come to believe that I could only assist in healing others while never healing myself. Nothing ever felt right, I struggled to find a therapist that I truly connected with and I always felt uncomfortable going deeper into my own mind out of fear of what may be hiding there. I decided to start working with a somatic practitioner and holy crap was it uncomfortable. I hated crying. I hated being watched while my heart broke. I hated feeling so open and vulnerable. And then I realized that my parts began to soften and didn't immediately want to run and hide when I turned my attention to them. Once I gave them space to express themselves and cry and thrash, they felt lighter and didn't look at me with anger. We were finally able to just see each other and decide to move forward together. Shit was magical.

I hope to be able to provide others with a similar space that is not bound by the rigid structure of traditional talk therapy. This space will operate outside of the realm of therapy, while still being a therapeutic space. Since it is not therapy, insurance will not cover the sessions and there will be no documentation such as treatment plans or progress notes. Instead, the session will focus on providing whatever the participant believes will be helpful. This can look like sitting in silence together until something comes up, writing, singing, dancing, stretching, crying, discussing dreams, altar making, creating art or making music. Other times the session can look like allowing ourselves to tap into our sacred rage without the need to "solve a problem" right away. Sometimes we just need to feel. Since this offering is technically considered a type of coaching, finding and exploring potential solutions can be part of the process, however it is not obligatory. I will be posting another blog to outline the differences between coaching and therapy, just in case. These sessions can be done as often as needed, without the pressure to meet with any scheduled frequency. If you only want to meet once, then that's great. If you want to meet once monthly, that's also great.

I love what I do and I want to do it as long as I can. The world is changing in a lot of ways and some are genuinely pretty scary. Given all of that change, I want to be able to provide care to as many people as I can without worrying about my decisions being scrutinized by insurance agencies, while still being accessible to as many people as I can.