Courage in Her Calling

Comparison has a sneaky way of showing up right when someone finally works up the nerve to step into something new.

That's exactly what happened to Leah Freeman the week she opened her own small counseling practice after years of working underneath other therapists at a group clinic in Nashville. She'd dreamed about it for over a decade, saving carefully, getting certified in trauma informed care, and finally signing a lease on a modest office space with soft lighting and a comfortable couch she'd picked out herself.

The morning of her official opening, instead of feeling excited, Leah found herself scrolling through social media, watching other therapists in her area post about fully booked schedules, glowing client testimonials, and features in local magazines. By the time she closed her laptop, her stomach was in knots.

"What was I thinking?" she said out loud to her empty office, the words echoing slightly off walls that hadn't yet been decorated. "There are dozens of therapists in this city who are already established, already respected. Why would anyone choose me?"

Her mentor from graduate school, an older therapist named Dr. Patricia Owusu, happened to call that same afternoon just to check in on the opening. Leah answered, unable to hide the discouragement in her voice.

"Talk to me," Dr. Owusu said simply, and Leah found herself pouring out everything, the comparison spiral she'd fallen into that morning, the fear that she'd made a mistake leaving stable employment for something so uncertain.

Dr. Owusu listened patiently before responding. "Leah, can I tell you something I wish someone had told me thirty years ago when I started my own practice?"

"Please," Leah said.

"Comparison will talk you out of your calling every single time, if you let it," Dr. Owusu said. "It'll convince you that because somebody else is doing something similar, there's no room left for you. But that's simply not true. God didn't call you to duplicate somebody else's practice or somebody else's path. He called you to your specific clients, the ones who need exactly what you bring to the table, in exactly the way you bring it."

"But how do I know anyone actually needs what I bring?" Leah asked, still doubtful.

"You don't know that in advance," Dr. Owusu admitted honestly. "That's where courage comes in. Courage isn't the absence of doubt. It's moving forward anyway, trusting that the calling God placed on your life wasn't a mistake just because it feels uncertain or because somebody else appears further along."

Leah sat with that conversation for the rest of the afternoon, turning it over in her mind while she finished arranging her office. She thought about all the years of school, the licensing exams, the specific training in trauma work that had shaped how she approached therapy. None of that had been wasted, even if it looked different from the path other therapists in her city had taken.

The following week, her first client walked through the door. A young woman named Christine, referred by a friend, struggling with anxiety so severe she'd barely left her apartment in months. Leah felt the familiar flutter of self doubt as she sat down across from Christine that first session, wondering if she truly had what it took to help.

Something in the specific way Leah approached the session, patient and unhurried, drawing from her particular background in trauma informed care, seemed to reach Christine in a way that resonated deeply. By the end of the session, Christine had scheduled three more appointments and thanked Leah for finally feeling understood after two previous therapists hadn't quite fit her needs.

That session became something of a turning point for Leah, not because her practice suddenly filled up overnight, but because she began to understand something crucial about calling. It wasn't about being the most established therapist in the city or having the most impressive social media presence. It was about showing up authentically for the specific people God intended to send her way, trusting that her path didn't need to look like anyone else's path to be valuable.

Over the following year, Leah's practice grew steadily, not explosively, but steadily, filled with clients who specifically needed her particular approach and temperament. She still had moments of comparison creep back in occasionally, especially on slower weeks when she'd catch herself scrolling through other therapists' seemingly perfect practices online. But she learned to recognize those moments for what they were, and gently redirect her thoughts back toward her own specific calling instead.

She called Dr. Owusu about a year after that first difficult conversation, this time with a very different tone in her voice.

"I get it now," Leah told her mentor. "Comparison kept telling me there wasn't room for me because other people were already doing this work. But God wasn't asking me to take somebody else's place. He was asking me to fill the specific place only I could fill."

Dr. Owusu laughed warmly on the other end of the line. "That's exactly right, Leah. Courage in your calling doesn't mean feeling certain you're better or more qualified than everyone else out there. It means trusting that God placed you exactly where you are, for exactly the people who need you, regardless of how many other paths exist alongside yours."

Final Thoughts

Comparison will always find a reason to convince you there's no room left for your specific calling, especially when other people appear more established or further along. But God's plan for your life was never meant to be a duplicate of anyone else's path. Courage means stepping into your purpose anyway, trusting that the specific people who need exactly what you bring are already out there waiting, regardless of how crowded the field might look from where you're standing.

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