Those Damn Relationships – Part 1.

By Daniel Barrera, M.Ed., C.A.R.T., LPC A
Licensed Professional Counselor Associate in Texas, helping musicians and creatives thrive.

Relationships can be wonderful. They can also be a complete nightmare. Most of the time when we talk about relationships, we’re talking about other people. Romantic partners. Friends. Family members. Co-workers, Bandmates, etc.

Of course, musicians understand this idea better than most. Anyone who has spent years with an instrument knows that people don’t just play music. Over time, they develop a relationship with it. But over the years, I’ve started to notice something interesting. Human beings form relationships with all sorts of things…not just people.

That realization really hit home for me during a counseling session several years ago. At the time, I had been working with a client who came into counseling with the usual emotional aches and pains that bring people through a therapist’s door. Their intake paperwork mentioned depression, anxiety, grief…the kinds of struggles that many of us wrestle with at different points in life.

Over the course of several sessions, things began to improve. The client became more hopeful and confident. Life didn’t feel quite as heavy as it had when we first started meeting. One afternoon, I was reviewing their initial intake paperwork to make sure we had covered everything they had originally wanted to address. 

That’s when I noticed something we hadn’t really talked about yet.

Buried among the other concerns was a short note saying they wanted to quit smoking. Now, anyone who has ever tried to quit smoking knows that it’s rarely as simple as just deciding to stop. People mean it when they say they want to quit. But then stress shows up, old habits creep back in, and suddenly they’re lighting another cigarette while wondering how they ended up right back where they started.

At our next session, I mentioned the note from their intake form. The moment I brought up smoking, the look on the client’s face told me I had just stepped onto sensitive ground. In my work, I’ve seen people in some very vulnerable moments, but this reaction made me pause for a second. For a moment, I wondered if I had just opened a door they weren’t ready to walk through. Thankfully, they didn’t get up and leave.

After taking a moment to gather themselves, the client admitted that smoking had been a serious struggle in their life. So, I did what therapists often do in moments like that. I let the silence sit there for a bit. Sometimes silence gives people just enough room to decide whether they want to keep the door closed…or start opening it.

After a few moments, I simply said, “Tell me more.”

I could see the client’s facial expressions change and the subtle shifts in their voice as certain memories surfaced. Some moments sounded lighter. Others carried more weight. At one point, I found myself saying something almost instinctively, “It’s all related,” and in many ways it was.

As the conversation continued, the client started describing the culture surrounding smoking. They talked about cigarettes, lighters, the rituals that came with it, and the strange mix of feelings they had about quitting. They recounted times they had quit for several months, only to find themselves starting up again, much to their shame. They even spoke about the unique differences between cigarettes and vaping, and why they preferred one over the other, even while knowing both were harmful. I was fascinated, but I also found myself feeling sad as they shared the suffering they had experienced as a smoker. My client was now in their late twenties, and the rapid approach of their 30th birthday felt significant to them.

Then I asked them to go back to the beginning. Not the moment when smoking became a problem. But the moment when it started. Or maybe more accurately…the moment when they first discovered cigarettes. The client paused for a moment. They then said, “Well, I first met cigarettes when I was eight years old.” That caught my attention immediately. I remember noticing and making a mental note when they used that word.

“Met.” 

That word stayed with me.

At first, it caught me by surprise. Then curiosity kicked in. A moment later, I found myself quietly smiling because the idea was so obvious once I heard it framed that way. It was one of those strange moments where a lightbulb turns on and you realize what it’s illuminating had been there all along, hiding in plain sight. As I kept listening, what I realized in that moment was that I wasn’t simply hearing the story of a “bad habit”. I was hearing the story of a relationship…and every relationship has a beginning.

And that’s where we’ll pick up the story next time.

After The Last Note
Music and creativity have always had a way of opening doors to perspectives or parts of life we did not even realize were closed. If a song, piece of music, performance, or experience has ever made you pause, reflect, question something, or see your life or personal or band relationships more clearly, I would love to hear about it.

I am always open to reader questions, topic ideas, or even specific songs you would like to see explored from a mental health perspective, especially where music, creativity, and everyday life intersect. You can send your thoughts, experiences, or questions to: Letsconnect@nlsccc.com

About the Author
Daniel Barrera, M.Ed., C.A.R.T., LPC Associate, is a licensed professional counselor associate in Texas who also spent many years immersed in the creative world as a bass player, graphic designer, copywriter, and voice-over artist. His counseling work lives at the intersection of creativity and mental health, informed by lived experience on both sides of the stage.

Since 2012, he has worked with musicians, artists, writers, and other creatives to help them navigate the emotional realities that often accompany a creative life. His writing reflects a deep respect for the artistic process and the inner struggles that shape it.

Learn more at www.nlsccc.com