Holding Space
Holding Space
You are always allowed to take care of your heart.
Come, come — sit with me.
Grab yourself a drink, and let’s talk about holding space.
This is a conversation about depression, love, boundaries, and the people who stay.
I’m going to tell you a story, and I want to be honest with you — it’s an emotional one for me. If my words feel heavy at times, or if you sense tears behind them, it’s because I got to the other side. And I didn’t do it by myself.
Okay… I got ahead of myself.
Let me go back many, many years.
When I Didn’t Know I Was Breaking
I believe I was in my thirties.
I had lost my dad about a year earlier and moved cities for my job.
I was alone.
I hated my job — and my boss was not a good boss for me.
I was breaking, but I couldn’t see it yet.
It felt like the walls were closing in.
And I was angry.
So damn angry.
One morning I called my best friend, and we ended up in an argument.
But her words hit me straight in the heart.
“Every time we talk, you’re yelling and angry. You need to go to the doctor. Something is wrong.”
I hung up the phone thinking she didn’t know what she was talking about.
So I called my mom — my soft place to land.
And on that same day, we argued too.
“Lisa, something is wrong with you. You’re not the daughter I know.”
Both hit me on the same day.
The Doctor Who Listened
I called the doctor — and thank God, I had a good one.
He took one look at me and said:
“Lisa, what is happening right now?”
And I broke right there in his office.
All the anger came out.
All the pain.
I was missing my dad and hadn’t dealt with the grief of his passing.
I was in a different city, far from my people.
And my job was awful — just awful — and I hated it.
He listened.
He just listened.
He told me that with everything happening, I was in a depression and that I needed time.
I was put on leave from my job for four months.
That wasn’t failure.
That was permission to stop hurting in silence.
What Holding Space Looked Like for Me
Let me pause here and say this with softness:
Everyone’s depression is different.
No two depressions are the same.
In my depression, I needed to be of service.
That summer, I lived with my best friend during the week while her husband worked out of town. Being there — with her and the kids — allowed me to just be.
I did the small things around the house that needed doing.
Nothing heroic. Nothing dramatic.
She was holding space for me and letting me simply exist.
I wasn’t alone.
On weekends, sometimes I went home.
Other times, I spent time with the boys — who also held space for me.
And my mom — my beautiful mom — prayed for me.
I had a praying mom, and I thank God every day for that.
That’s when my healing began.
The first thing I did was leave that job and move closer to my people.
Healing Changed Me
As I was healing, I was changing.
Yes — changing.
It took me two full years to come out of my depression, and when I reached the other side, I was different.
I learned the word no.
No to doing things that didn’t sit right with me.
No to going places when my heart said rest.
It was hard for my loved ones at first.
They didn’t understand why I had changed.
But I had to hold space for me now.
I stopped saying yes just to satisfy everyone else while I stayed miserable.
I honored my quiet time.
That wasn’t selfish.
That was survival turning into wisdom.
On the Other Side
Today, I am so much stronger than I ever was — and to be honest, I love the person I am now.
That doesn’t mean I never feel the pull backwards.
Sometimes I do.
And when that happens, I know it’s time to care for my mental health.
That care might look like being quiet.
Or finding joy in something that makes me feel alive.
I am so very, very thankful for the people who held space for me.
Holding space for you might be your family, your friends, or your therapist.
Just let someone hold that space for you —
until you can hold it again for yourself.
You don’t have to have answers.
You just need to not be alone.
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