Jenni J.V. Wilson, LMFT
President, LA-CAMFT

Rules of Reintegration

I always feel the need to preface my messages by placing you in the space and time I’m writing. The world changes so quickly, that writing a month ahead of posting feels like Time Travel—ahead and behind, all while doing my best to be present in this moment.

Five days ago, as of this typing, the Anti-Racism Roundtable Phase 2 took place. I’m grateful to everyone who took the time to attend and participate. With President-Elect Leanne Nettles’ energy and openness leading the event, LACAMFT leadership was able to connect with other mental health professionals to discuss difficult topics. People shared and identified practical and creative ideas about how LACAMFT can continue to increase diversity, equity, and inclusion. To take these ideas to the next level, we’ll need more volunteers to get engaged, there’s so much we want to do. Hopefully we’ll see some of you at the June 27th Leadership Retreat! Last year, I met Leanne at the Leadership Retreat—and here we are. A lot can change in a year—in 16 months.

A year ago it seemed everyone was champing at the bit for things to “get back to normal”—whatever that meant for them. Stepping outside felt like a heroic act, and we were warriors fighting invisible enemies, hoping to return home unharmed and incapable of inadvertently hurting others.

We’ve been at this pandemic-stuff for a while, establishing new ways of managing our lives and our work as therapists. We’ve been on an island of sorts—an island that at times felt more like an isolated toxic dumping ground. We’ve had to build our own filtering systems, to keep going, to stay grateful, to show up for our clients, loved ones, and ourselves, lest we become septic. Every conversation I’ve had with another therapist has been its own release valve, as we share a particular flavor of survivor’s guilt, for escaping some of the most heart-wrenching consequences of the pandemic. Not all, but some.

We’ve had work. We’ve had community. We’ve had loss, yes, but we witnessed the losses of others in the world, so we’ve had perspective. We’ve had tools and purpose. Occupation, belonging, interaction, options, and meaning—luxuries to many over the past 16 months were ours every day. Now what?

Here are some musings on my Rules for Reintegration . . .

GREETINGS will continue to be different.

Even though I was raised by old school theatre folx, and am by nature a “people person,” I’ll be less of a hugger. I’m more inclined towards the often hilarious ways to say hello and goodbye, now, like: touching shoe tips, bumping elbows, bowing, tipping an imaginary hat, blowing kisses, waving, and even bumping butts (tho, not with clients).

EATING will be different.

I’ll no longer eat three home-cooked (or take-out) meals a day, at home, with my partner and my dog. I could lose some new Covid weight, with more activity and a cortisol reduction. But even if I don’t, I’ll be fine in jeans, t-shirts, and Converse high-tops walking into sessions or into a Starbucks for the first time in forever. Confidence increases when comfortable.

I’m FORGIVING myself for not . . .

Finishing this 5000-piece puzzle eating my dining room table; growing any vegetables; crafting; organizing drawers; cleaning out the garage; organizing my music and making cool Spotify playlists. It’s 100% okay that during this time I did not resurrect my podcasts, finish a video game, or participate in a book, movie, or any kind of club . . . wait, does LA-CAMFT count as a club?

I’m being mindful of any RETREATING.

Straight up, I’m going to be awkward AF out there in the wild. Over the past 16 months I’ve only been to the grocery store once, had one haircut on my patio given by a friend, and made one trip to the other side of the canyon, over and back. I imagine Reintegration being like Dorothy landing in Oz, for me—beautiful and terrifying.

I CONFESS…

I haven’t been to any kind of doctor, had a flu shot, mammogram, or manicure. I haven’t entered, eaten in or around a restaurant. No beach or ATM trips, canyon-hikes, or jet-plane leavings. I’ve not experienced the self-care of any room-service, teeth-cleanings, housecleaners, brow-waxings, or professional massages. I haven’t even been in the same physical space with any other LA-CAMFT board member since early March 2020.

I’m IMPRESSED.

It’s almost cliché now, how amazingly resilient we humans are. We’re not coming out the same people we went in. We figured out how to work, date, organize, study, and play poker online. We gathered people together from all over, from all periods of our lives, filling screens with groovy Brady Bunch Squares allowing us to become super vulnerable from the comfort of our own homes. This era has normalized video connection. We’ve crossed over into Jetsons-land, and I like it. I like being able to see my big sister in Canada and to bring all my sisters into one room, until we can be together IRL again.

I’ll continue DELETING and rewriting dated programs from my life.

Now that I’m vaxxed, I’ll still wear a mask, but I’m losing the sweat-inducing rubber gloves at the CVS. And I might start mindlessly browsing again, instead of hightailing it out there like a member of an elite seal team whose objective is Melatonin and mouthwash—“You get in, get the goods, and get out, dammit!” Maybe I’ll even cut back on the Silkwood-like showers of spray-bottled rubbing alcohol and hand-sanitizers. Maybe.

I’ll still fill the online cart with things later to be deleted or added to “wish lists,” ordering delivered to my home only what I primarily need, as I did pre-Covid. Because I’m lazy. And, if I have the time, I’d rather nap than go shopping. I wish I had time to be bored. Don’t @ me.

Paz y Amor. Keep musing and amusing, my fellow soldiers of sanity.

JJVW — Jenni June Villegas Wilson

Jenni J.V. Wilson, LMFT is a collaborative conversationalist, trained in narrative therapy and EMDR. She works with creative and anxious clients on improving, avoiding, and eliminating co-dependent and toxic relationships, while finding healthy ways to be unapologetically themselves. She is the primary therapist at Conclusions Treatment Center IOP in Mission Hills, and has a private practice in Sherman Oaks.