By Ana Rogers, LCPC, NCC
Reading Time: 6 minutes

There are certain thresholds you cross more quietly than others. No confetti, no stage lights, no ceremonial walk. More like the soft, almost imperceptible click of a door closing behind you. Becoming fully licensed felt like that. A gentle settling, an inner click that said, you’ve grown here. 

It was an ordinary Monday afternoon. My colleague and I were working quietly between sessions when the email appeared. The one notifying me that my licensure status had officially changed. The culmination of a decade of schooling, training, supervision, and slow, steady work arrived not with fanfare but with the opening of my inbox. “Well… I guess that’s it? Yay?” I said to Sydney. We laughed. But it was the soft kind of laughter that knows more than it says, because we both understood the weight of accomplishment that message truly held.

And now, after years of sitting with others in their hardest, softest, most honest and vulnerable moments, I find myself reflecting on what these first years have taught me – about therapy, about the work, and about myself. 

On Humility & Unlearning

I entered my clinical internship in grad school believing that being a “good” therapist meant being perfectly attuned, endlessly wise, consistently neutral, and capable of offering polished insight on demand. I showed up to my very first intake session frazzled, clutching literal flash cards because I was terrified of relaying practice policies incorrectly (yes, really). 

I held deep-rooted, unfair expectations of myself that unintentionally created distance rather than connection in the session space. What I didn’t know then was that my true therapeutic strengths were nothing like the ones I had imagined or initially coveted. They were found in showing up authentically – humanly, imperfectly – as myself; in joining clients through our shared humanity; and in embracing curiosity, something that has been quietly, instinctively present in me since childhood (I was the child always asking “But why?”). Not in gripping perfection with white-knuckled determination.

The longer I do this work, the more convinced I am that the magic happens in the moments that are deeply human. When I stay with you in your fear, your grief, your shame, your self-doubt. When I say, “That feels like such a heavy weight to carry,” not because it’s the “right” clinical move, but because it’s true. 

People don’t come to me for perfection, they come for presence. The work is less about knowing and more about listening. Less “am I doing this right?” and more “I can trust the moment.” Therapy is not performance; it’s relationship. Relationship that requires connection above all else. 

On Trusting the Slow Work

Therapy is slow and sacred. It unfolds in inches, not miles, and asks for patience, grace, and a deep reverence for the complexity of being human. 

It has reshaped me in ways I couldn’t have anticipated, even after being a client myself for longer than I’ve been a therapist. It has softened me, stretched me, grounded me, and reminded me again and again that healing rarely looks like a jumping-out-of-the-bath screaming “Eureka!” moment. 

Something I process with many clients is the understandable sense of urgency to “fix” and “heal” as fast as possible. I’ve learned that growth unfolds in subtle and non-linear ways, in the smallest shifts: a new insight, a kinder thought, a steadier breath. The realization, while brushing your teeth, that you chose self-compassion over self-contempt. A soft, persistent reminder of “getting there,” both on the days it feels like we’ve reopened old wounds and on the days we meet those wounds with a new awareness.

On Silence & Ruptures

Silence used to feel like space that desperately needed filling. A lull that signaled I should be doing more, saying more, proving my competence more.  

Now, silence feels like medicine. It can be a reckoning, a sanctuary, a moment for the nervous system to catch up with truth spoken aloud for the first time. It is the space in which we breathe, gather ourselves, and meet feelings we’ve outrun for years. 

Profound things happen in the silence when clients are given permission to explore it. 

And sometimes, the silence is simply awkward, and that’s okay, too. A client once sheepishly expressed they were waiting for me to say something. We both laughed, and I felt honored that they trusted me enough to voice their internal experience. 

Ruptures, like silence, also felt terrifying. A missed cue, a misunderstood comment, or a question that landed wrong was all it took for the “I knew I wasn’t cut out for this” spiral to begin (hello again, imposter syndrome). Over time and trust in this work, I’ve come to see ruptures as invitations and an extraordinary opportunity to repair. Rupture and repair are where trust is built, not lost. It’s where clients learn that conflict doesn’t have to mean abandonment, that honesty doesn’t always lead to rejection, and that relationships truly can bend without breaking.

On Gratitude

This milestone is also not mine alone. It is stitched together with the unwavering support, guidance, and insight of the incredible clinicians and supervisors who continue to walk alongside me. “Thank you” will never feel like quite enough for what they have given me – their time, their wisdom, their trust, and their belief in who I am as a provider. 

Becoming fully licensed doesn’t feel like an arrival so much as a continuation – another doorway, if you will, into deeper work. I am still learning, still unlearning, still becoming, just with a few new letters behind my name. Maybe I’ll write another reflection like this in a few years, after I’ve done a bit more growing!

Want to grow alongside me and the Wellness & Co. team? Check us out here! 

With so much gratitude,

Ana

Ana Rogers( LCPC, NCC )

Ana’s passion is providing a therapy space where you feel heard, seen, and valued. Whether you’re a couple looking to rebuild connection, a family seeking support in navigating life’s complexities together, or an individual wanting to heal and grow, she is here to walk alongside you!