“I feel like I’m watching life happen from behind glass”
Somebody once told me, “I feel like I’m watching life happen from behind glass — like everyone else is living in color and I’m in black and white.” I think about that often. There was no self-pity in her voice, just quiet confusion — a kind of grief for an inner world she couldn’t access. Sometimes therapy isn’t about helping someone feel more or different; it’s about sitting with the distance, naming it, and gently wondering what purpose that glass once served. Maybe it was protection. Maybe it was survival. And maybe, with time and safety, the glass doesn’t have to shatter — it can simply soften, enough to let a little life seep through.