Much To My Delight

Much To My Delight

Letting Go


Like everyone else with Netflix and a pulse, Vin and I have been rooting through all the crap in our house trying to figure out what sparks joy and what fuels frustration. We spent one rainy afternoon ransacking our basement, which resulted in piling a few errant things in the corner but mostly created a bigger mess than we started with. Parting with small housewares and crap they throw into the bleachers at hockey games has proven no major feat, but from this day forward we both request that any flattery, sentiment or attestations of our friendship MUST BE SUBMITTED ELECTRONICALLY. Any hand-written greeting that enters this household will find a permanent station here until the day one or the both of us is crushed beneath an avalanche of Hallmark cards. Thank God I no longer attend summer camp cause if you think I’m getting rid of mom’s letters or dad’s annual birthday poems YOU CRAZY.

spring clean

Anyway, so far in the January clean-out I have parted with the following:

-a fat pile of flat sandals, still cute and in decent condition but perilous to my ongoing plantar fascitis old lady flat foot problem

-an entire cardboard box of documents from our house-hunting days (5 banks in consideration= 5 huge binders of useless paper)

-25 copies of Walter Hartye’s “Book of Love” CD. This guy is a dead ringer for my old landlord.


-an aisle’s worth of unused, unwrapped paper and plastic party decorations. If you’re planning to host cinco de mayo this year, go hit up the Steinway Street Salvation Army this month. I’ve got you.

-an old DVD player (a major victory on my part convincing Vin to toss anything with a plug– please submit congratulations ELECTRONICALLY)


That stuff was easy to part with.

But there’s one thing I’ve decided to say goodbye to that required a lot of soul-searching. It’s been with me a long time, and letting it go has proven very bittersweet.

My job.

As my private therapy practice continues to grow (surprisingly, faster than I could have anticipated), it’s become more and more clear that balancing the two worlds of private practice and community mental health isn’t what I wanto do. I opened my first private day in late October, and just added my second day this month. On those two days, my life feels different. The pace is slower, the work is less demanding and more fun, time is abundant.  On those two days, everything feels lighter, easier. I never knew that going into private practice and running my own show could improve my quality of life so much. I didn’t realize how much stress I was carrying until I experienced an available alternative.

I’ve worked in community mental health clinics since I graduated ten years ago. I’m proud of the work I’ve done, but the longer I stay, the more I have to admit that it’s really draining me. The real “social-worky” part of me threatens to call myself a sell-out for liking private practice so much, but when you realize you have the power to reduce your stress level by approximately 90%, you’d be a fool or a martyr not to take that shot.

So I resigned last week. Based on the nature of my work, I offered two months’ notice. I feel very much like a high school senior who’s already received her college acceptance letter; mentally ready to move on, but still knee-deep in work left to do. Now that the relief of getting the news out in the open with management is behind me, I find myself anxious and filled with dread as I prepare to tell my clients that they’re all being transferred. I have to break up with 50 people next week, and it’s going to SUCK.

Still, you can’t exactly model good self-care when you’re not taking care of yourself.

And you can’t ignore some pretty obvious signs either… on the morning I resigned, I walked into my office of seven years and the place looked like it’d survived an earthquake. A heating pipe had sprung a leak, the ceiling was dripping, books were scattered on the floor and pictures hung sideways on the wall. (The same weird shit happened in our old apartment when we were in contract for our house). Within 12 hours of handing in my resignation, I booked three new private clients. I feel like the universe has my back, and I’m ready to move forward.

New year, new me. Already feeling so much lighter!

Now, if I can only convince Vin to get rid of those receipts from 2004- 2010…




Jenn P.

30-something psychotherapist. Loves cooking, hosting parties, exploring new places. Texan by birth. New Yorker by choice. Likes to tell little stories. Pull up a chair; I'll tell you one.

  • Sonya
    Congratulations on starting your own practice and taking the leap for it to be your primary employment. I am sure that is scary but I always think that good things should scare you a bit, that is how you grow. Happy New Year!
    • Jenn from much to my delight
      Thank you so much Sonya. I totally agree! If it weren’t a little bit scary, it probably wouldn’t be worth doing. Happy new year to you as well!
  • Erica
    Congratulations! If I lived in New York, I’d sign up as one of your clients in a heartbeat. Everyone needs a good therapist!
  • Gail in Rhode Island
    Sounds like a big change but a really positive one. Congratulations and good luck!!