A safe space isn’t always physical. It can exist between two people. We forget about what society expects of us; we drop the illusion that we need to appear as “functioning” all the time. For a moment, two people create a universe between them as they grapple with the human experience in an honest and open way. At my dad’s funeral, I heard my classmate whisper, “Claudia isn’t sad about her dad dying because she isn’t crying.” I was only in third grade, and it was the first time I had been stigmatized for the way I portrayed my mental health. Growing up with three brothers and my mom all going through grief, they all began to perform and overfunction because society doesn’t leave much room for emotion when there are bills to be paid and a Dean’s List to be made. When I finally started therapy at 18, I understood for the first time what it felt like to have one hour a week that entirely belonged to me. A place where the conversation is unhurried and there’s no performance necessary. Even as I was unraveling something painful, there was something positive about being uncomfortable in a place built for it. I currently attend Los Angeles Valley College, and I’m transferring to UCSB as a sociology major, where I’ll pursue the Applied Psychology minor and hands-on fieldwork in counseling psychology, a direct pathway to becoming a Marriage and Family Therapist. I don’t view counseling as one-sided; as someone gets to know themselves in front of me, they teach me about life. I am so innately drawn to unconventional conversations: the ones society makes us feel “weak” or “too sensitive” to have. The beauty of therapy is that it’s such a rare form of connection, so detached from our daily lives, where we can be authentically ourselves and no one has to contort themselves to be more like what the other person wants. I want to build a private practice with foam stress balls on the table and fluffy pillows on the couch. I want a room that gives permission to decompress. It doesn’t matter who the person is. Every person needs a space to be authentically themselves: whether it’s a teenage girl ranting about her horrible week at school and, for a moment, we can laugh together or an anxious adult fidgeting with the toys because their marriage is falling apart. Seeing people for who they truly are, including the things society deems ugly, is the first step toward fostering a sense of community. I want to contribute a sense of understanding to my community, and I truly believe the first step to love is understanding.