Therapy was the biggest romance of my life.

“Therapy was the biggest romance of my life.” Thus speaks Dar Williams, a troubadour of modern times, and in this confession lies a wisdom that reaches beyond the chambers of healing into the very soul of what it means to love. For she calls therapy not merely a practice, nor a discipline, but a romance—and in doing so, she names it as a relationship of passion, revelation, and transformation.

To call therapy a romance is to see it as a union between self and truth. In the ancient world, the Greeks inscribed upon the temple of Apollo at Delphi the words: Know thyself. For they understood that the deepest journey of all is inward, and that the courage to face one’s wounds is greater than the conquest of cities. What Dar Williams names is this sacred romance of self-discovery—the encounter with one’s shadow and light, the tender and sometimes fierce dialogue between the broken self and the healing spirit.

The origin of this insight lies in the recognition that all romances are, at their core, about transformation. When two lovers meet, each is changed by the other. So too in therapy: the seeker meets the mirror of their own life, guided by another’s wisdom, and through this union is reshaped. This is not a romance of bodies, but of souls. It is the courtship of honesty, the seduction of truth, the slow intimacy of unveiling one’s deepest fears and longings.

History gives us many examples of those who found their greatest romance not with another, but with their own transformation. Consider St. Augustine, who in his Confessions laid bare his inner turmoil, his sins, his searching for meaning. His writings reveal not just theology but a love affair with self-examination, a relentless pursuit of truth within himself until at last he found peace. Like Dar Williams, he discovered that the inward journey can be as passionate, as consuming, and as redemptive as any outward love.

To describe therapy as the “biggest romance” is also to defy the narrow definition of love as only what passes between two people. It teaches us that to heal ourselves, to reconcile with our past, to learn compassion for the self we once despised—this is an act of love of the highest order. Many chase romance outside, in partners and fleeting passion, while neglecting the sacred romance within, the one that makes all other love possible.

The lesson here is profound: before you seek to love others, learn to love the truth within yourself. Embrace the courage to face wounds, to confess, to forgive, to grow. Treat your own healing as you would treat a beloved—patiently, gently, with reverence. For without this inner romance, all outer romances falter, built on unsteady ground. But with it, one finds a love that cannot be taken away, for it is rooted in the very heart of the self.

Therefore, dear seeker, let Dar Williams’s words guide you. If life grants you the chance to enter the sacred space of therapy, approach it as you would a lover: with openness, vulnerability, and devotion. Do not shrink from its intensity, for in its depths you will find transformation. And even if the world mocks or misunderstands, remember: the greatest romance is not always the one sung by poets or painted in stories. Sometimes it is the silent, heroic love story between a soul and its own healing—a love story that lasts forever.