Multicultural CBT DBT

This quote lands in my chest because it names a quiet truth I see in my clients and in myself: relationships are not proof of our worth, they’re chapters in our story. Some chapters end because trust is broken; others end because we’ve outgrown the version of ourselves that kept saying yes. That can feel like failure—especially for those of us wired to care, to fix, to keep the peace. My nervous system reads endings as danger; my heart reads them as grief. Both are true.

What this passage gives me is permission and perspective. Permission to honor the losses (even the messy ones) without making them a verdict on my character. Perspective to notice what also arrives after endings: unexpected love, sturdier friendships, and a deeper honesty with myself. In DBT terms, it’s the dialectic—pain and possibility—radical acceptance paired with committed action. When I set boundaries, I’m not rejecting people; I’m choosing alignment. When I let go, I’m not quitting; I’m editing my life for truth.

“The best part of your book is still being written” reminds me that I am the author, not just a character swept along by other people’s plots. I can grieve closed doors and still write new scenes. I can be tender about what hurt and proud of how I’m growing. That’s why this resonates: it captures the arc from heartbreak to authorship—how endings make space for a self that is more honest, more loving, and more free.

Let’s decrease the stigma on addiction. This article is very powerful!

“Recently, I read an article about the plague of fentanyl overdoses, and it broke my heart (again); I decided we must tell the truth. My son’s sister agrees. But his mother and stepfather prefer to maintain the lie.

“A few years ago, my son died from an accidental overdose when he took a fentanyl-laced pill. When we got the autopsy report, his mother (we are divorced) wanted to keep the cause of his death a secret. I was reluctant, but in the throes of grief did not make a stand for the truth. We lied and said his death was due to a bad heart.

“I believe we are morally obligated to speak out, even if belatedly, because it may save another family from tragedy. I am ashamed it has taken this long. Can I ethically go public with the real cause of my son’s death when his mother and stepfather are against it?” https://www.nytimes.com/2022/07/05/magazine/lying-overdose-fentanyl-ethics.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare