Teresa's Story

Teresa’s story is one that many women quietly carry within themselves — a story of growing up with expectations, chasing a version of happiness shaped by others, and losing her own voice along the way. What began as a search for love and stability slowly turned into a journey inward: toward understanding her emotions, healing old wounds, and rebuilding her sense of self. Her path shows that sometimes the life we think we should live isn’t the one that will make us feel whole — and that true happiness begins the moment we choose ourselves.

My idea of happiness

For years, I believed that my happiness depended on whether I found a partner, started a family, and lived the way I “was supposed to.” I thought that once I met my husband and had children, everything would finally fall into place and I would be truly happy. That's what we were taught — that “a prince on a white horse will come,” and then life becomes complete.

When relationships didn’t work out, and my attempts to build something lasting ended in disappointment, I started blaming myself. Thoughts like: “What’s wrong with me? Maybe I’m different, maybe I’m weird?” kept showing up. I even heard from partners that I had “too many requirements,” that something always bothered me, that I didn’t accept things they considered normal — like drinking or other addictions. But I simply had my own values and boundaries.

All of this created enormous pressure — time pressure, social pressure, and pressure from my own expectations. And at some point, I just started to lose myself in all of it.

A moment of pause and inner questioning

There came a moment when I started to feel the weight of it all. The sadness, the heaviness, the sense of emptiness. A feeling that something was off, that there was something within me I didn’t fully understand. On top of that came a sense of loneliness — friends were moving forward with their lives, one of the closest people to me left, and I felt like I was staying behind, alone with everything.

I began asking myself questions: “Why is this happening? Why do I feel so unhappy? What is going on inside me?”

That was the moment when I realized I didn’t want to fight on my own anymore — that I wanted to understand myself, my emotions, and my reactions.

Stepping onto the path of therapy

Before I started therapy, I tried to work on myself on my own — I read books about happiness, personal development, emotions. I was always interested in those things. But despite all of this, I still felt it wasn’t enough, that there was something I still didn’t understand.

One day I was talking to a friend, and she told me she was in therapy and recommended Regina to me. And that’s how I found myself in the therapist’s office — with a deep need to understand myself, my emotions, my reactions, and why I cared so much about everything around me. I knew I had to pause and look within — because trying to “fix my life” on the outside wasn’t helping.

Understanding the roots of my world of emotions

Therapy helped me see something very important: my emotions have origins. The way I react, what I feel, and what I fear did not come from nowhere. I grew up in a home where my father struggled with alcoholism. That shapes a person — it creates excessive responsibility, a need for control, constant vigilance, and the urge to fix everyone and everything.

I learned that I had to earn love, attention, and acceptance. I believed that if I was good, patient, and loving enough, then someone would value me and stay. In therapy, I realized that I don’t have to earn love — I have the right to feel it and receive it simply because I exist.

I came to understand that happiness doesn’t come from the outside — it grows within me. And that my life doesn’t have to look the way someone once imagined it should.

A new me — freedom, agency, peace

Today, I can say I am happy because I am myself. Not because someone is standing next to me. Of course, I enjoy relationships and people, but I no longer tie my self-worth to them.

I do things that bring me joy. If I want to go to the cinema — I go. A concert? I buy a ticket and go. If I share those moments with someone — wonderful. If not — it’s still good.

I have people around me who like me and support me, and I have a dog who brings so much joy into my life. Today I remind myself: “I don’t have to. I can.” And I truly believe it. Limitations often exist only in our minds — now I see that.