Somewhere along the way, therapy became something that looks good on the outside. People talk about it like it's a glow-up. Like it's journaling, lighting a candle, saying "I'm working on myself," and suddenly everything starts falling into place.

But no one really talks about what it feels like when you actually sit in that chair. It's not aesthetic. It's not comfortable. And most days, it's lonely.

Because therapy is not just talking. It's saying things out loud that you've avoided for years. It's admitting that something affected you more than you want to accept. It's realising patterns you can't unsee anymore. And once you see it, you can't go back to being the version of you that didn't know.

That's where loneliness starts.

You walk out of a session and everything feels a little… off. The same friends, the same conversations, the same habits, but now you're more aware. And that awareness doesn't always feel empowering. Sometimes, it just makes things heavier.

You start noticing how you people-please. How you stay quiet when something bothers you. How you laugh things off that actually hurt. And then you sit with that. Because now you know.

You know that knowing about it doesn't mean you can immediately change. That gap, between knowing and actually doing something about it, is uncomfortable. It's frustrating. And it can feel isolating. People around you might not get it. They might say things like, "Don't overthink," or "Just move on," or "Why are you making it such a big deal?"

And you realise you can't explain this process to someone who hasn't experienced it. So you stop trying. You nod. You say "yeah, I'm fine." And you carry your thoughts quietly.

Therapy also makes you outgrow things. Not in a dramatic way. Not overnight. But slowly, you start feeling disconnected from conversations that once felt normal. You stop enjoying certain dynamics. You question things you never questioned before. And that can make you feel like you're losing people, even when nothing has officially ended.

No one prepares you for that part. No one tells you that healing isn't just about "feeling better." Sometimes it's about feeling everything you've been avoiding. Sometimes it's about sitting in discomfort without distracting yourself. Sometimes it's about realising that you've been settling for less than you deserve, and not knowing what to do with that realisation yet.

There are days therapy feels like progress. And then there are days where you leave thinking, "What am I even doing? Why does this feel worse?" That's normal. But it doesn't feel normal when you're in it.

Because we've been sold this idea that working on yourself should feel good. That growth should look inspiring. That healing should be visible. But most of the time, it's quiet. It's choosing not to react the way you usually would, and sitting with the discomfort of that choice. It's not texting back immediately. It's setting a boundary and then overthinking it for hours. It's crying over something that "shouldn't matter this much."

It's not pretty. And it's definitely not something you can always share. You can post about going to therapy. But you can't always explain what actually came up in that session. You can say "I'm healing." But you can't always put into words what you're grieving. So a lot of it stays within you.

And that's the truth people don't talk about. Therapy can make you feel seen in one room, and completely alone outside of it. And yet, that doesn't make it wrong. If anything, it means you're finally being honest with yourself. You're no longer numbing things just to feel okay. You're no longer pretending things don't affect you. You're no longer living on autopilot.

And yes, that comes with discomfort. Yes, it comes with distance. Yes, it can feel lonely. But it's a different kind of lonely. It's not the lonely that comes from being ignored or misunderstood. It's the lonely that comes from meeting yourself fully, without distractions, without filters. And that's not something most people are willing to do.

So if you've ever felt like therapy is harder than you expected, if you've ever walked out of a session feeling heavy instead of relieved, if you've ever thought, "Why does this feel so lonely?" You're not doing it wrong. You're just finally doing it for real.

— Sakshi Sethiya