Eight Years Later. And It Was Never Checkers
This month marks eight years since I first opened my one-person therapy practice on Waterloo Street in uptown Saint John, searching for a better way to deliver mental health care.
Eight years since I walked away from the predictability of government work because I couldn’t reconcile the idea that mental health wasn’t treated as health.
Eight years since I chose risk over comfort to build a different kind of access.
I wanted to help the people who were looking for support before crisis forced their hand.
I thought I was starting a practice, but in hindsight, I was actually starting an education in myself.
Entrepreneurship exposes you. When clients leave, it stirs abandonment. When revenue fluctuates, scarcity gets loud. When a team member resigns unexpectedly, your nervous system lights up. When you struggle to delegate, control shows itself. And the list goes on...
There’s a book I read in March 2020 called "The Hard Thing About Hard Things" by Benjamin Hardy, and I loved a particular chapter called "The Struggle". I took photos of the pages because I needed to remember I wasn’t crazy for feeling what I was feeling at the time, and many, many times since. The doubt, the isolation, the imposter moments, the nights you wonder if you’re strong enough to keep showing up.
And then there’s the line that has stayed with me ever since: “This is not checkers. It’s motherfu*** chess”. Checkers reacts. Chess thinks ahead. Checkers panics when a piece is taken. Chess recalibrates. Over the last eight years, I’ve learned that building something meaningful requires a chess mindset. You zoom out. You regulate. You make decisions based on the long game, not the loud moment in front of you. And you don’t always get it right, so you keep trying and then you try again.
We’ve faced a literal fire. Turnover. Growth. Rebuilding. Reinvention. We didn’t survive because it was easy. We survived because we kept playing. And here’s what I’m most proud of: the people.
To every therapist who has shown up for clients on their hardest days and who have stuck with us over the years.
To every single employee who has shown up for our team and trusted this vision and who have carried the emotional labor behind the scenes.
To every contractor, from marketing to accounting, who stepped up when it would have been easier to step out.
To every client who chose us, shared their most vulnerable stories, and showed loyalty to the practice, many of whom have been with us on and off since 2018.
To every referral partner who believed in our standard of care.
To every coach, mentor and peer who has supported me and helped me grow and show up better for those around me.
To every board member, past and present, and supporter of our charity, Just Us, which helps us remove barriers to accessing mental health care.
To my family, who feel the invisible cost of leadership every day.
You are all the reason we exist.
I am deeply proud of this team. I am deeply proud of the culture we have rebuilt and protected. I am deeply proud of the clients who have done brave work inside these walls. Eight years later, the vision is still the same: mental health care is valued, understood, accepted and accessible to all people.
But I am not the same. I am a little bit steadier. A lot more strategic. More regulated. More willing to bet on myself and play the long game. Because this was never checkers. It was always chess. And I could not be prouder of the people sitting at this game board with me.
Thank you.
- Laura