Your First Visit
Updated: Aug 13
Walking through the door may be one of the hardest things you have done in a long time. You are entering an unfamiliar room and sitting among people you have never met, without knowing what will be expected of you or whether you will feel able to stay.
You might sit outside for a while before coming in. You may reach the door and want to turn around, or worry that everyone inside will know immediately why you are there. Part of you wants to find people who understand, while another part has spent years making sure nobody sees how much you are struggling.
Everyone in the room had a first night. Most of us arrived wondering whether we belonged, whether our experiences were serious enough and what we would say if someone asked why we had come. We worried that we might become upset, say too much or be unable to find any words at all.
You will not be asked to tell your story when you arrive. You can introduce yourself using only your first name, find a seat and listen. If you want to speak, you can, but nobody will question you or press you to share something you are not ready to discuss.
For many of us, talking is difficult because the people involved are people we love. They raised us, shared our homes, married us or grew up alongside us. We may still worry about them, protect them and defend them when other people criticise them. We might also understand what happened in their lives and know some of the reasons they behaved as they did.
That understanding can leave us feeling that we have no right to be hurt. We remind ourselves that they had a difficult childhood, were struggling with addiction, lived with their own mental health problems or did not know any better. We tell ourselves they loved us in the only way they knew how, and then wonder whether talking about the pain means we are being unfair.
It is possible to love someone and still be affected by what they did. Their own suffering may help to explain their behaviour, but it does not remove the effect it had on you. You do not need to hate them, condemn them or deny every good memory before you are allowed to speak honestly about your own life.
Many of us grew up knowing that family business stayed within the family. We learned to keep the peace, make excuses and protect people from embarrassment or consequences. Telling anyone what happened felt disloyal, and sometimes it felt dangerous. Even when the danger has passed, the silence can remain.
That silence often reaches far beyond the original relationship. It can affect how we respond to conflict, how easily we trust our own feelings and whether we believe we are entitled to ask for help. We become used to protecting everybody else, while very few people know how much we are carrying.
Solid Ground offers somewhere to begin talking without being forced to choose between your love for another person and the truth of your own experience. Nobody else will decide what your relationships mean, what choices you should make or how quickly you should speak. You remain in control of what you share.
For your first visit, all you need to do is come through the door and take a seat. You can listen for the whole meeting if that is what you need. There will be time for everything else when you feel ready.





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