Lewis Etoria Psychotherapy and Counselling

20/05/2026

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and

milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles, and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

E. E. Cummings

I find this poem beautiful, simple and profound all at the same time. It reminds me that we find parts of ourselves at the edge of our awareness - where the beach meets the sea. And that even in loss there is discovery about ourselves.

15/05/2026

We often tend to feel ashamed of being called 'a people-pleaser' but what if it's just a survival strategy? What if it's actually a symptom or consequence of trauma? What if it's the best thing we could have done to stay in relationships? Yes, it has downsides. But we shouldn't be too hard on ourselves – we were doing the best we could to survive.

To find out more, listen to my podcast episode #19: 'How do we learn to trust people after trauma?' at https://www.carolynspring.com/podcast/how-do-we-learn-to-trust-people-after-trauma/ where you can also find a full transcript.

Or search for 'Conversations with Carolyn Spring' on Audible, Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

05/05/2026

https://www.coreset.org/post/unspoken-memories-of-the-future

Our latest exhibition opening on 1 May 2026 is a collaboration between Donovan Pennant, Tom Harris, Abbas Zahedi and Dawn Wray with a series live performances, reflective sessions, a film screening, and soundscapes exploring listening as a form of reflection on experience.Unspoken: memories of the f...

03/05/2026

New addition for my therapy room, thanks to Katherine Etoria

01/05/2026

Hi All - I'm a local psychotherapist in training offering in-person sessions in the Hartsholme area.

I currently have a few spaces available for new clients.

I work relationally, focusing on the underlying patterns in your feelings and relationships that can make you feel stuck.

If you'd like to contact me to discuss if I can help or to book a session you'll find more details on my website or Psychology Today Profile, or you can message me directly on here.

https://www.psychologytoday.com/profile/1579519

https://www.lewisetoriatherapy.co.uk/

08/04/2026

Understanding that therapy can protect their dignity.

08/04/2026

✨ Grief has a way of bending time.

I don't know about you, but I think, and feel
that grief doesn’t move in a straight line, and it certainly doesn’t stay politely in the present. It drifts. It loops. It pulls us into memories we thought had settled, shakes something loose in the middle of an ordinary day, or suddenly reminds us of a future that will look different now.

Some moments bring a rush of longing for what was.
Others highlight the weight of what is.
And sometimes it’s the ache of what will never be that catches us off guard.
None of these moments mean we’re “back at the beginning.”
They’re simply part of loving someone who isn’t here in the same way anymore.

If your grief has been time‑travelling lately into the past, the present, or the imagined future, I hope you can meet both it and yourself with gentleness. There is no right pace. No correct direction. Just the ongoing, human work of carrying love in a world that keeps moving.

26/03/2026

This is just a picture of me being a person. Or a picture of me just being a person. I don't remember what song I was listening to but I do remember that this was a peaceful moment for me. I remember that I was having a rare snapshot of being me without feeling in a role. Not a therapist or a dad or a son. Not an employee or a manager. Not someone with anywhere to go or anything to do. Just a person, meeting the sun after a long, long winter and listening to an absolute banger. I will be finding what time I can to do more 'person-ing' this spring!

24/03/2026

Think about someone who has recently gotten under your skin.

Maybe they talk over people.
Or they never take responsibility.
Or their need for validation feels endless.
Or there's just something about them you can't name, but it lingers.
It's okay. We all have that person.

But Jung would lovingly ask you to sit with one question…
Why does it affect you the way it does?

"Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves."

Not as an accusation. Not as a verdict.
But as an invitation.

Because your deepest irritations are rarely just about the other person. They're quiet signals. Little arrows pointing inward, toward something tender, something unfinished, something you tucked away so carefully you forgot it was still there.
Perhaps you learned that needing attention wasn't safe. So you folded that need small and put it away. And now, watching someone else wear it so openly… something stirs. Something that feels like judgment, but aches a little like longing.

Perhaps you became the steady one, the responsible one. And someone who shrugs off accountability doesn't just frustrate you. They touch something much older than this moment.

The irritation is a messenger.
And it deserves more than dismissal.
Jung called this the shadow. The tender, forgotten parts of ourselves we didn't feel safe enough to keep. Not because they were bad, but because at some point, they felt like too much. So we set them down. And then we lost track of where we left them.

Until someone else picks them up and carries them right in front of us.
This isn't about turning every frustration into a therapy session. And it's certainly not about excusing what isn't kind.
It's simply about getting curious before getting reactive.
The next time someone unsettles you more than seems reasonable, hold that feeling gently.

Where have I felt this before?
What part of me does this remind me of?
What might I be ready to finally see?

Because sometimes the people who irritate us most are carrying something back to us. Not to hurt us.

But because some part of us has been waiting, quietly, to finally bring it home.