Will I Ever Be Happy?
Sometimes the answer is obvious, but it's not necessarily the solution. Sit with the question and let it guide you home to the love that has always been inside.

As I ponder this sacred question a patient recently asked me, I imagine us sitting together in a space between darkness and light.
I think of it as the Book of Life—what Jewish tradition calls Sefer HaChaim. It’s the story of our lives and the greater universal book we’re all a part of.
Therapy is a space where we rewrite our place in the Book—by reclaiming our dignity and voice—our sense of power and agency, the Core Self we are all born with.
With the help of a true other, therapy can teach us how to expand and shift our state of consciousness—so we can be present with who we are at our Core, without getting lost in the rabbit holes of loss and trauma that keep us stuck in the past.
Being in this space of presence often reveals the sacred questions that long to be asked—and the wounded parts that guide us there. It helps us remember that we deserve to live and can't be erased—that we are the person we are becoming, and were always meant to be.
As I look at the patient who raised this question, I tell her, “I shine the light on the adult you became, so you can hold the light for the little ones inside who are lost in the past—and guide them back home.”
In a moment of sacred silence, we pause in the gaze of each other's eyes.
Then, she smiles and says, “Now I know the answer. The answer is another question: What do I need to do today that will be good for me? And, I know the answer to that one.”
I think to myself that in the Jewish tradition of teshuvah, the answer isn’t a solution. It’s a return—to the question, to the Core Self—the light inside that was never lost and never went out.
With this recognition, I look up and gently tell her, “What you say may be true, but life isn’t always that simple, or you would already be doing the things that make you happy.”
Appearing puzzled, I deliberately add, “You may not know the answer yet, but you might know the next question—and that question might just take you home.”
Holding her in the light of my presence, after a while she sits up in her chair and boldly proclaims, “Now I know the question the little one inside has been asking. It’s not whether I will ever be happy. The question is: Do I deserve to be happy?”
I nod affirmatively and say, “It sounds like you’re getting closer to the truth buried deep inside. I’m sure that will lead to another question, but let’s start with mine first: As the woman you grew up to be, what do you want to say to the little one?”
With tremulousness in her voice, she replies, “Thank you for listening to me with your kind heart. The little girl just corrected me. The most important question is: Do I deserve to be loved?”
And what do you want to tell her now?: “I want to say, 'That’s a great question. Just because someone doesn’t show you love doesn’t mean you are unlovable.'” (tearing up)
I respond, “So what does she see in your eyes now?”
In unison: “The loving adult—and the child, who lives safely in her heart. She is home now.”
For all those reading this who know someone with that question—or perhaps ask it themselves—give yourself the gift of Judy Collins singing Send in the Clowns by Stephen Sondheim, performed 50 years after its original debut. I listened to it then, during a challenging time in my life, as I, too, was asking my own questions and finding my direction—and it is with me now.
Let the sound of Judy’s ageless, angelic voice—accompanied by the mesmerizing oboe, her gifted musician friends, and a sea of admirers—echo inside and around you, helping you see the light that has always been there—your own and others'.
It’s the light of invisibility, where our questions lead to more questions, eventually taking us home—to where we are loved and belong—and where joy, too, will come. Maybe we'll realize the clowns are already here.
Thank you for being with me. That’s why we’re here now—together.
All patient stories are composites or fictionalized to protect privacy and confidentiality, while honoring the universality of the human experience.
Comments or questions? Email me at mcecilvt@aol.com. Feel free to share these words—and this blog—with anyone you hold, or long to be held by, in the light of invisibility.
Dr. Cecil is a licensed psychologist, certified AEDP supervisor, approved EMDR consultant, and senior CSRT consultant. He specializes in treating complex relational, developmental, and transgenerational trauma, bringing therapy to life through heartfelt stories and images of connection and healing that emerge from the light of invisibility.