We often think of the therapist as the calm one in the room. The grounded one. The person holding space while someone else falls apart or unravels. But what happens when the person doing the holding carries wounds of their own, tucked away out of reach? What happens when that pain goes unseen or unhealed? A therapist is still a person. And healing work, especially in a world shaped by racism, patriarchy, and disconnection, requires a capacity that is deeply personal. When unr