Multicultural CBT DBT

06/11/2025

This quote lands in my chest because it names a quiet truth I see in my clients and in myself: relationships are not proof of our worth, they’re chapters in our story. Some chapters end because trust is broken; others end because we’ve outgrown the version of ourselves that kept saying yes. That can feel like failure—especially for those of us wired to care, to fix, to keep the peace. My nervous system reads endings as danger; my heart reads them as grief. Both are true.

What this passage gives me is permission and perspective. Permission to honor the losses (even the messy ones) without making them a verdict on my character. Perspective to notice what also arrives after endings: unexpected love, sturdier friendships, and a deeper honesty with myself. In DBT terms, it’s the dialectic—pain and possibility—radical acceptance paired with committed action. When I set boundaries, I’m not rejecting people; I’m choosing alignment. When I let go, I’m not quitting; I’m editing my life for truth.

“The best part of your book is still being written” reminds me that I am the author, not just a character swept along by other people’s plots. I can grieve closed doors and still write new scenes. I can be tender about what hurt and proud of how I’m growing. That’s why this resonates: it captures the arc from heartbreak to authorship—how endings make space for a self that is more honest, more loving, and more free.

20/09/2025

15/09/2025

Let’s decrease the stigma on addiction. This article is very powerful!

“Recently, I read an article about the plague of fentanyl overdoses, and it broke my heart (again); I decided we must tell the truth. My son’s sister agrees. But his mother and stepfather prefer to maintain the lie.

“A few years ago, my son died from an accidental overdose when he took a fentanyl-laced pill. When we got the autopsy report, his mother (we are divorced) wanted to keep the cause of his death a secret. I was reluctant, but in the throes of grief did not make a stand for the truth. We lied and said his death was due to a bad heart.

“I believe we are morally obligated to speak out, even if belatedly, because it may save another family from tragedy. I am ashamed it has taken this long. Can I ethically go public with the real cause of my son’s death when his mother and stepfather are against it?” https://www.nytimes.com/2022/07/05/magazine/lying-overdose-fentanyl-ethics.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare

14/09/2025

So much of the pain I carry was never my choice. The losses of loved ones, retiring from the skies I adored, and the weight of living with so many medical conditions—none of that was something I would have chosen. And yet, instead of asking “why me?” I’ve always found myself saying, “why not me?”

What I’ve had to accept is this: the healing is mine. No one else can do it for me.

I can stay anchored in bitterness, replaying the losses and letting them keep me grounded. Or I can face them, one by one, and do the work to rise again.

Healing doesn’t mean it never happened. It means the grief and pain no longer dictate my altitude.

The wounds were never my fault. But the healing—that’s my responsibility. And when I choose it, I reclaim not only my life, but my wings.

11/06/2025

“The Art of Self-Validation: My Friendship with Radical Acceptance”

I no longer wait for applause.
I no longer crave the nod of approval
from voices that don’t know my full story.
I have learned to sit in the stillness of my own truth,
where self-validation rises not from perfection,
but from presence.

Radical acceptance has become my most faithful friend—
not loud, not demanding,
but steady, patient, and unshaken.
It sits with me when my body aches.
It whispers to me when my mind spirals.
It gently places its hand on my shoulder
when the world feels too loud,
when expectations feel too heavy.

Together, we practice.

Every single day.

I practice accepting the pain that pulses in my spine.
I practice accepting the fatigue that steals my mornings.
I practice accepting the uncertainty that shadows my future.
Not because I have given up,
but because I have given in—to what is real,
to what I cannot control,
to the truth of my body’s beautiful complexity.

Radical acceptance reminds me:
“You are not broken for feeling broken.”
“You are not failing because your body protests.”
“You are not weak for needing to rest.”

I no longer measure my worth by the smoothness of my skin
or the lightness of my days.
I measure it by the gentleness I offer myself in the storm,
by the grace I extend to my imperfections,
by the courage it takes to love a body
that doesn’t always love me back.

This is the art of self-validation:
to wake up and say, “Today, I will honor where I am.”
To sit beside my pain, not fight it.
To soothe my mind like a child who simply needs comfort.
To release the need for answers,
and hold space for what simply is.

Radical acceptance and I—we walk this path together.
Hand in hand.
Breath by breath.
Choosing not to wait for life to be easy to live it fully.
Choosing not to wait for the pain to leave before I feel joy.
Choosing not to demand certainty to feel safe.

I am the keeper of my own worth.
I am the witness to my own resilience.
And every day, I remind myself:
“You are enough, exactly as you are, even here.”

This is my practice.
This is my power.
This is how I soar,
even when I cannot fly.

Su

Photographer: Jason Guzman

06/06/2025

🛫 How to Decrease Stress and Anxiety Before, During, and After Flying: Summer Travel Tips from The Flying Psychotherapist

Summer is the season of wanderlust — the skies call, airports bustle, and our calendars fill with long-awaited getaways. But for many, flying doesn’t just bring excitement — it brings anxiety.

As a former flight attendant turned licensed psychotherapist, I understand both the emotional turbulence and the mechanics of air travel. Whether you’re a nervous flyer, someone prone to travel fatigue, or just hoping to make your next flight feel more peaceful, here are evidence-based, heart-centered tips to reduce stress before, during, and after your flight.

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✈️ Before Your Flight: Preparing Mind, Body & Itinerary

1. Prepare with a Plan — and Flexibility
Anxiety thrives in uncertainty. Ease it by checking into your flight early, downloading your airline’s app, and mapping out your airport journey (TSA, gates, lounges). Allow extra time, but also accept that some things (like delays) are out of your control. Flexibility is your co-pilot.

2. Set a Calming Intention
Before heading to the airport, pause. Take a deep breath. Ask yourself: How do I want to feel on this journey? Safe? Grounded? Open to adventure? Use this intention as your emotional compass.

3. Create a Soothing Travel Kit
Bring headphones, a playlist or podcast that calms you, essential oils (lavender or peppermint), gum or mints, and a small comfort item (like a stress ball or scarf). Download mindfulness apps like Calm or Insight Timer for in-flight meditations.

4. Nourish, Hydrate, Sleep
Flying dehydrates and disrupts your rhythm. The night before, prioritize sleep and eat something nutritious. Avoid excess caffeine or alcohol, which can increase anxiety. Pack a refillable water bottle and snacks with protein and fiber to avoid blood sugar dips.