The Tattooed Therapist

I just got out of a session of therapy.

My own therapy.

I have been working with my therapist, this therapist since 2021.

I feel exceptionally fortunate to know him, to do work with him, we do IFS–Internal Family Systems, a super powerful model I was unaware of until meeting him.

We were talking a little about my practice, after checking in about upcoming travel–seeing my sister in Portland next week, going to my grandmother’s memorial service in Nevada City the week after–and my stress about taking time off to do these things during one of the slowest months I have had in memory.

I’m a little spooked about work.

I have not had a lot of new clients.

I used to have a waiting list.

I used to have an overfull practice.

I am not busy.

I am working to not be in financial insecurity, but yes, it does nibble about, dancing a little tattoo of terror on my soul.

Tattoos.

We started talking about my tattoos, my therapist and I, and my book, the one I was woking on and have set down.

I don’t want to work on it.

I don’t want to re-navigate the space I was in during the pandemic and writing my dissertation and the constant reliving of trauma and relationship despair.

But, he suggest, agreeing with me that a book does not seem to be the way forward at the moment, couldn’t I do something on social media, some sort of marketing, the tattooed therapist, etc.

My story is transformative and my tattoos are about the somatic re-authoring of the body after sexual abuse trauma, so yes, that tracks, but there are already “Tattooed Therapists” out there.

It’s not a new concept.

Although, from what I could see from the small bit of research I did, the therapists aren’t doctors, more so traditional MFTs with Masters in Psychology, inked themselves, cognizant of the power of tattoos to tell stories, re-narrate experiences, commemorate life milestones, loves, deaths, transitions, transformations, but no PhDs.

Sigh.

Marketing.

I have not really done that.

I have not sold myself.

My therapy clients have predominantly come to me through referrals.

Client referrals.

Colleague referrals.

Community referrals.

Cohort referrals.

I haven’t had to do marketing and it feels awkward.

My tattoos definitely get attention and I suppose I could work that angle, but I’m not really sure how to do that.

I have not made content through videos, I don’t like how I sound when I’m recorded, which is funny as I have been recorded, did a line for a commercial back at the Angelic Brewing Company when I worked there, did spoken word, got recorded by a producer here in San Francisco when I first moved here that ripped off my work, and voice; also, I did record a song with a fairly famous musician–Sunshine Jones–a while back and it’s fun to hear that once in awhile, didn’t get anything from doing that work, but performed with him once at Club 222 and another time at The Valencia Room–the old Elbow Room.

I had someone once tell me they were there, they recognized me and were agog, which was cute, I mean, I feel like I was just reading my poems out loud, but I can give some stage presence.

So.

Maybe I can give some voice.

Maybe I have some good tattoos that are visually appealing.

Maybe, hahaha, I have some education, just a doctorate, about tattoos and trauma.

So, maybe I could do some video content about it and market it a bit.

I’m attractive, for my age, I’m wry and smart, and my ink is quite pretty.

I just don’t know if that’s the way forward.

Is it art?

Is it marketing?

I mean.

I am a really good therapist and I love being a therapist.

I would just love if I had some more clients.

I keep trying to breathe and remember that sometimes the universe opens up space for me to explore and do and experience.

I’m trying to date.

That’s going ok.

What’s going great about it is actually saying no rather quickly to scenarios that don’t work for me.

Getting out of potential bad fit relationships when I used to get stuck.

I recently went on a second date with someone and it was not a fit for me and I let them know and I moved on.

Kindly.

There was nothing wrong with them, their situation just didn’t work for me.

I also let down, gently, someone who lives in my building.

I ran into him at the elevator to my floor.

Beautiful man.

GORGEOUS.

And he, “I like what I see,” accessed me as attractive as well.

But I could hear my friend admonishment in my head, “don’t shit where you sleep,” the reminder to myself that dating my dry cleaner didn’t work out and now the closest spot is literally double what I used to pay, so yeah, don’t poop where you live feels accurate and also, good grief, he was young, early to mid 20s.

You can like what you see but I am accomplished and not interested in being your nanny or nurse maid or mommy.

I gently turned him away.

But.

I also am seeing more that men are interested, which is another thing I have been working on, just being aware, seeing, what am I being shown.

The universe has so much wealth and beauty and magic.

How can I open my eyes to see what is there?

I’m not adverse to my therapist’s suggestion, I’m just not sure if that is the way to bring in more clients.

I’m trying to be curious and open.

Open to dating.

Open to new experiences.

Saying yes to doing things.

I saw Ira Glass in conversation with Etgar Keret at City Arts & Lectures with a new friend this past week, wow, was that powerful, I was frequently in tears and laughter.

I’m trying to be out in the world and not alone in my home.

Although I am damn cozy here.

I don’t know how I got off track from being an inked therapist doing social media content to dating and having new experiences, but there it is.

I had some time.

I had a moment of thinking maybe just process this in writing.

Where I process so many things.

I have material.

What can I do with it?

I have a life to live.

How do I live it?

What’s next universe?

I’m ready for an adventure.