An Open Letter to my Clients.

Today, I want to reach out to you and ask for something that truly matters to me: your honest feedback.

I'd love to know what you think about this space we've created together. Does it feel like a safe place for you? How does it feel to connect with a therapist or life coach online? Is there something you'd wish were different and if so, what might that look like? How do you think I could serve you better?

You might wonder why I'm writing an open letter. The answer is simple: your voice matters to me more than anything else. To truly support you, I need to understand your experience; your thoughts, your needs, your ideas.

My own journey into this work began close to home. I became a parent, and I wanted to show up as the best version of myself for my children. When I reached out for professional support in Italy and in Austria, I couldn't find anyone who truly understood the reality of multinational families who had chosen a nomadic life. Nobody spoke our language, quite literally and figuratively.

Many of you are living this same experience, not just the children, but the parents too. And when kids enter puberty and the teenage years, the challenges grow deeper and more intense. It can feel as though no one truly gets it, and that frustration touches every single member of the family.

That's exactly why I'm asking you today: how are you feeling? Is the support you're receiving enough? Do you feel heard?

Writing this letter comes naturally to me, because I genuinely care about each of you.

An open letter feels like the most direct and honest way to communicate with both young people and parents. We can all find ourselves in moments where we need support, and the reasons are always different and deeply personal.

For many families living in constant movement, a sense of disconnection from the parents' cultures of origin is a real and tender wound. That's why it becomes so important to honour and preserve the memories that are built through each transition, each place, each chapter of life. When the emotional storms of adolescence begin to calm, something beautiful can happen: young people start to make peace with their own story. They begin to discover that growing up across cultures, between languages, borders, and identities, is not a limitation, but an extraordinary gift. It becomes a bridge. A way of connecting with people who seem very different, yet share something surprisingly intimate: a favourite dish, a song, a beach, a mountain peak, a city skyline from somewhere far away.

As a parent of multinational and third-culture kids, I am living this rediscovery alongside my daughter. She has now reached university, and her personal story, built in the spaces between cultures, is emerging as one of her greatest strengths in her studies and creative projects. There have been difficult moments, of course. Heated conversations. Moments when hold to ours path felt almost impossible, when the choices we made as parents were questioned and challenged. It hasn't always been easy.

But something is shifting. We're able to talk more openly now, to laugh together about the struggles we've been through. I won't pretend everything is resolved, we're not there yet. There are still conversations waiting to be had, and many experiences that haven't fully settled. But things are better, and that matters.

I share this with you because I believe that being honest and open sometimes builds the deepest understanding between a practitioner and the people they serve. Each of my clients is precious to me, and my commitment is always to offer the very best support I can.

In this space, nothing is off the table. Every topic is welcome. And discretion is not just a policy it is something I hold sacred, always, unless the safety of you or someone connected to you is at risk.

A blog on these topics might feel like an unusual choice, I know. But I wanted to create this letter as an invitation to dialogue, not just with my clients, but with anyone reading these words.

You may also notice there are no reviews here. That, too, is an intentional choice. Sharing feedback publicly isn't always appropriate, and above all, it requires the full and free consent of the client. For many people, being asked to share their experience publicly can feel like a quiet intrusion into their most private emotional world. I choose to protect that.

Annalisa