My family moved just about every year. There was the geography part to contend with—getting used to a new part of the country, a new town, a new house. There were the corresponding ups and downs of my family’s financial situation. And there were the constant endings and beginnings of friendships.

It was a hard way to be a kid. 

I longed for the day when I would turn 18. Finally, I would be the one with the power to make decisions about change in my life. More to the point, finally, I would be the one with the power to keep things the same! 

It took some time, but it wasn’t too long after college that I settled into the life of predictability I had longed for. Things weren’t perfect, by any means, but the day-to-day was familiar and a big part of me found some peace in that.

Some peace. 

Underneath it all, I was increasingly anxious and depressed. Yes, I managed to keep things the same, but also…I managed to keep things the same. In service to familiarity, I sacrificed my dreams.

I knew what needed to be done—and what I would eventually do—but I put it off, year after year.

I was stuck.

It wasn’t until my late 30s that I managed to shake things up. The big 4-0 was just around the corner, and I had the sense, finally, that I had no more time to waste.

I ended an unhealthy relationship. I got sober. I moved to the place I’d always wanted to live: California. And I pursued some creative dreams.

This major life transition was just what I needed. And I was so happy to finally be jumping in with both feet. But it was also incredibly stressful and anxiety-inducing.

I was struggling, and I needed support.

I want to highlight something here.

This was a transition of my choosing, and still I struggled mightily through it. As much as I didn’t want to believe it at the time, just because I was finally ready for the change–and had the means to make it happen–didn’t mean I was going to move easily through it. This major life transition that I wanted and initiated came with stress, anxiety, heartache, uncertainty, and unwelcome surprises.

It was during this challenging period that I went to therapy for the first time–12 weeks of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy, or CBT–and it helped.

Flash forward to another type of life transition–the major changes I didn’t choose, but were thrust upon me by circumstances beyond my control. Becoming a caregiver, my own health issues, losing work, going through a break-up I didn’t want, and grieving the losses of people and animals I love.

I sought therapy in those times, too. Some of it was CBT-focused, and the refresher was helpful. But I also sought support from therapists whose approaches aligned with my creative background and interests–Narrative Therapy and Expressive Arts.

Now that I am a therapist myself, I find myself most drawn to working with clients who need support around the types of challenges that introduced me to therapy–struggling through life transitions–as well as the approaches that got me through them: Narrative Therapy, Expressive Arts, and CBT. I also have a solid foundation in Person-Centered, Strengths-Based, and Multicultural approaches; and I frequently bring in pieces of other types of therapy as seems helpful to my clients.

If anything I have shared here rings true for you around a life transition, and you want someone to talk to, I hope you feel like you can talk to me. I know how hard the journey can be, and I know how much it helps having someone to rely on for support along the way.

Meredith Simonds, MA, LPCC, CDP