Filling Your Cup(s)
“Each of us holds inside of ourselves millions of glasses, constantly being filled and drained in dynamic, unpredictable rhythms.”
I once worked with a client who is fictionalized and anonymized here—let’s call her Mia.
Mia was extraordinary. A shy but gifted musician with creativity and precision, an elite athlete with the kind of drive and love for her sport, and one of the sharpest minds I’ve ever had the privilege of sitting across from. But behind her achievements, there was fury, sadness, and grief.
Most of her anger was directed at her father who was in family therapy with Mia, a man who loved her deeply but had sunk into a quiet, depressive fog after his wife—Mia’s mother—left the family. He adored his daughter, but he could barely reach her, or anyone really. His worldview had darkened. He could still take pride in Mia’s accomplishments, but joy rarely reached his face. Mia, meanwhile, was trying to survive the absence of her mother and the emotional vacancy of her father, even as she worked hard to be be “elite” in all aspects of her young adult life.
One day, after a particularly heated family session, Mia looked at her father and said:
“Your problem is that you always see the cup half empty. I don’t see the cup half empty, or half full. My cup is all the way full, and your negativity is something I can no longer be around.”
It was brutal honesty. It was also a protective wall. And somehow, it was the start of something healing.
In the months that followed, something shifted. Through work in and out of the room, Mia and her father began to build a bridge between their perspectives. He learned to name his pain and not collapse into it. She learned that her full cup didn’t need to be a shield. They found ways to communicate, to accept each other, to begin again.
But even after our work ended, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said—
“My cup is all the way full.”
Half Empty, Half Full, or Missing the Point?
We often hear this phrase—glass half empty or glass half full—as a shorthand for optimism versus pessimism. But when you live or love from either extreme, things get murky.
A glass half empty mindset can sap the life out of a room. Even if the cynicism is accurate, even if the wounds are real, dwelling there too long can lead to bitterness, helplessness, and a subtle corrosion of hope. It is not just draining to the self—it wears down those closest to you - people who could be your strongest supports. It creates an atmosphere where connection feels like a burden rather than a balm.
On the other hand, living from a glass half full perspective can come off as minimizing. It can make pain invisible. For someone who is struggling, relentless positivity can feel like rejection. It can sound like: “If I can be happy, why can’t you?” That kind of “brightness” can leave loved ones feeling unseen, or worse, ashamed for hurting.
And then there’s “My cup is all the way full.”
Powerful. Defiant. Empowered.
And sometimes... a little bit dangerous.
Because there are times when proclaiming fullness is a survival tactic, a refusal to be dragged down. But if we stay there too long—if we cling too tightly to fullness—we risk bypassing reality. We risk ignoring the parts of us that are lonely, tired, stretched thin. We risk disconnecting from the real, messy humanity in ourselves and others.
We Are Not Beings of a Singular Glass
The truth is, we are not made to be fulfilled by one cup. We are not machines with a single fuel tank. We are mosaics. We are ecosystems. Each of us holds inside of ourselves millions of glasses, constantly being filled and drained in dynamic, unpredictable rhythms.
There might be a glass inside of you for:
• Romantic love
• Friendship
• Solitude
• Music
• Play
• Money
• Security
• Spirituality
• Athleticism
• Rest
• Grief
• Rage
• Food, wine beauty, laughter, nature, creation, growth...
And the truth is, some of those glasses are full right now. Some are cracked. Some are spilling. Some are being poured into by a friend. Some have never been looked at. Some are overflowing, and some are dry as bone.
When we focus too much on the emptiest cup, we can spiral into despair, convinced that we are not enough, or that life isn’t working. But when we only see the cups that are full and ignore what surrounds them, we risk disconnection and emotional implosion down the line. This is often where burnout, bitterness, or sudden mid-life explosions emerge from—ignored emptiness finally demanding attention.
I had a wise professor in grad school named Mario DeSalvo who used to always say “What gets repressed gets expressed.” And this is true even in not acknowledging the empty or lacking areas within oneself.
What’s Being Filled? What’s Worth Filling?
Instead of focusing on what is full or empty, we can begin to ask:
What is being filled? What is worth filling?
This shift from state to process is where healing begins.
Maybe you are not in love right now, but you’re reconnecting with old friends. That’s a glass being filled.
Maybe your job feels empty, but you’ve picked up the guitar again after ten years. That’s a glass being filled.
Maybe you’re parenting through grief, and it’s hard—but every day you try, and that effort is watering something. That is worth noticing.
When we stop chasing perfection in one or two glasses and instead begin tending to our many cups—with compassion, creativity, and balance—we start to feel whole. We start to feel like ourselves again.
And from that place, we can pour into others without resentment. We can allow others to pour into us without fear of pollution, because of the awareness that liquid can always be poured out and refilled, diluted or concentrated again and again. We can love and be loved without condition or performance.
Some cups are overflowing. Some are bone dry. And both are allowed to exist at once.
We are not meant to chase fullness in one thing. We are meant to tend to many things, slowly, curiously, lovingly.
You do not need to feel full to be worthy. But it helps to notice what is filling.
Let’s Fill Your Cups Together
If you’re feeling empty in some areas of your life—even if everything looks fine on the outside—you’re not alone. Therapy can help you explore which cups have gone dry, which are being neglected, and which are worth nurturing again.
Together, we can work on building more fulfilling relationships, reducing burnout, finding emotional balance, and creating a life that feels rich and meaningful—not perfect, but deeply yours.
I offer free 20-minute consultations, and I would be honored to help you tend to what matters most.
