Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Clarity doesn't always come all at once. Sometimes it settles in slowly. There’s a quiet expectation that a lot of people carry into therapy. It sounds something like this: If I do the work, if I heal, I shouldn’t feel this way anymore. No more big reactions. No more getting thrown off. No more moments where something small suddenly feels like a lot. And when those moments still happen, it can feel discouraging. Like maybe the work isn’t working. O

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Sometimes it's not about what's said. It's about who walks beside you. Father’s Day has a way of bringing certain things into focus, even if they don’t always get spoken out loud. For some, it’s a day of appreciation and connection. For others, it’s quieter than that. More reflective. Sometimes even a bit complicated. But regardless of the experience, there are often layers to what this day represents that don’t always make it into the cards, t

Lianne Perry, MA., MSc., RCC Sometimes the clarity isn't the story. It's in what you start to notice. When people come into therapy to talk about a relationship that feels confusing, they often assume I’m listening for one main thing. They think I’m trying to figure out whether the relationship is “good” or “bad,” or whether they should stay or leave. But that’s actually not where my attention goes first. I’m listening for something a little more subtle. I’m listening for the

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Knowing you need to choose...and not feeling ready to take either path yet. At some point in this kind of relationship, there’s usually a moment where things start to feel off. You might notice a growing sense of confusion, or catch yourself thinking, I know this isn’t good for me… so why can’t I just leave? Not long after, that question often turns inward, What’s wrong with me? If that’s where you are, it’s worth slowing that down right away. The

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC That quiet moment where you start to notice something feels off. Not dramatic, not loud, just a subtle sense that you don't quite feel like yourself anymore. At some point, often quietly, people come into session and say something like, “I don’t feel like myself anymore.” Sometimes it’s even more direct, “I don’t know who I am right now.” What’s striking is that they’re not usually talking about one big, obvious moment where everything fell apart.

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC That quiet moment where something starts to feel different. Not loud or dramatic, just a subtle awareness that something isn't quite right. Most people don’t walk into therapy saying, “I think I’m in a narcissistic relationship.” They say things like, “Something feels off,” or “I can’t quite explain it, but I don’t feel like myself anymore.” That’s because these dynamics are rarely obvious at the start. They’re often subtle, confusing, and layered

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Close enough to connect, far enough to choose. For a lot of people, setting a boundary doesn’t just feel uncomfortable. It feels risky. It can sound like, “What if they think I’m selfish?” “What if this changes the relationship?” “What if they pull away?” So instead of saying no, you soften it. You over explain. You say yes when you don’t want to, and then try to manage how it feels afterward. Not because you don’t know how to set a boundary, but b

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC What you notice when you finally slow down. Most people don’t realize how fast they’re moving until something forces them to stop. It might be a quiet moment that feels strangely uncomfortable, a weekend with no plans that somehow feels harder than a full schedule, or that restless feeling when you finally sit down and your mind doesn’t. On the outside, slowing down can look simple. Less doing, more space, fewer commitments. But internally, it can

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC That moment of pause, when you're deciding whether to reach out, and what it might cost you. Mother’s Day can look simple from the outside. Cards, flowers, brunch, gratitude. There’s a clear script for how it’s supposed to go and how you’re supposed to feel. But if you’re on the “child” side of that relationship, especially as an adult, it’s often not that simple. This day can bring up a mix of emotions that don’t fit neatly into celebration. For s

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC That moment where you pause and wonder, "Do I actually want to say yes?" You say yes, and almost immediately feel it. That quiet drop in your stomach.That flicker of, “I didn’t actually want to do that.” And then, just as quickly, the override kicks in. “It’s not a big deal.”“I can handle it.”“I don’t want to disappoint them.” So you follow through. You show up. You do the thing. And somewhere in the background, there’s a growing sense that you’re

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Listening to your needs often looks like this. Soft. Quiet. Allowed. Most people do not ignore their needs on purpose. They override them. They explain them away.They minimize them.They tell themselves they are too much.They tell themselves they are not important enough. And over time, something subtle happens. You start living in reaction instead of intention. But when you begin listening to your needs, even quietly, life shifts. Not dramatically

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Attachment patterns are learned. And what is learned can shift. Somewhere along the way, attachment styles became personality labels. “I’m anxious.”“I’m avoidant.”“That’s just how I am.” And for a lot of people, reading about attachment styles feels both validating and defeating. Validating because it explains so much. Defeating because it can sound permanent. But here’s the myth: Your attachment style is not a life sentence. It is a pattern, and p

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC The way you see yourself is not always the full story. When you start talking about your inner critic, I am not just listening to the words. I am listening to the tone. The speed. The tightness in your jaw. The way your shoulders subtly rise. Sometimes the critic sounds loud and harsh. Sometimes it sounds calm and reasonable. Sometimes it sounds exactly like you believe it. But here is what I am quietly paying attention to. 1. How Old You Sound Thi

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Sometimes shutting down is not about avoidance. It is your nervous system trying to protect you. Have you ever been in the middle of a conversation and suddenly felt like…you disappeared? Your partner is talking. The tone shifts. Something feels tense. And then it happens. Your chest tightens.Your mind goes blank. You cannot find your words. You just want it to stop. Later, you might think,“Why couldn’t I just say what I meant?”“Why do I always shu

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Late winter on the water. Calm on the surface, slower underneath. Not every season moves ahead at full speed. There is a particular kind of tired that shows up at the end of winter. It is not dramatic. It is not crisis level. It is just heavier. You are functioning. You are working. You are replying to messages. You are doing what needs to be done. But everything feels like it costs more. More effort. More patience. More emotional bandwidth. If you

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC You don't have to feel better to choose something gentler. Many people come into therapy believing there is a sequence they need to follow. First, they heal.Then, they change.Then, life feels easier. So they wait. They wait to feel more confident before setting boundaries. They wait to feel calmer before making decisions. They wait to feel healed before allowing themselves to live differently. And in that waiting, life often stays very small. Where

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC You do not need certainty to pause. There is a belief that quietly keeps a lot of people stuck. It sounds reasonable on the surface. Sensible, even.“I just need to feel more confident before I decide.”“Once I’m sure, then I’ll act.”“I’m not ready yet.” The problem is that for many people, confidence never arrives first. Waiting for it can mean waiting indefinitely. Where this myth comes from We are often taught that good decisions come from certain

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC Not certainty. Just enough steadiness to keep moving. There is a moment in therapy that does not look dramatic from the outside, but I notice it every time. A client will be talking through a situation that used to send them straight into overthinking. Maybe a relationship decision, a work choice, or a boundary they are considering. Instead of asking, “What do you think I should do?” they pause. They reflect. They might still feel unsure, but they

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC You can keep going, even when the path is not fully clear yet. If you find yourself second guessing even small decisions, you are not alone. Clients often say things like, “I know what I want, but I do not trust myself to choose it,” or “I feel frozen unless someone else confirms I am doing the right thing.” These moments are often followed by frustration, self criticism, or the quiet fear that something is wrong with them. There is not. Struggling

Lianne Perry, MA, MSc., RCC A path that slowly opens as you keep moving forward. People often come to therapy believing they are the exception. They have tried before. They understand their patterns. They can explain exactly why they feel the way they do. And yet, nothing seems to change. So they arrive saying things like,“I think this is just how I am.”“I’ve been like this forever.”“I don’t really believe things can shift for me.” These beliefs usually sound calm on the surf