My five-year therapy anniversary is in August. When I started, I was in a desolate place. Running on shame, fear, and self-loathing with a lack of boundaries. I’m building empathy for that version of me and I’m glad she wanted to get out of her own way. It’s hard and sometimes uncomfortable work but worth it all. The best thing I could have done for myself was to go see the lady.
Cornerstone
My therapy sessions started with building a foundation of confidence. I started from nothing, that’s where I was. I had deeply betrayed myself and was in denial about it. This was an embarrassing chapter, the stuff that Good Morning America book tour clips are made of. My therapist and I had to get to know each other and pick up the pieces of my self-esteem. The recurring themes were believing that I am enough and that I deserve good things.
I had to be intentional about shifting my view of myself. I’ve mentioned my poor self-talk before, this is when I was encouraged to confront it. The directive was to challenge negative thoughts immediately. I still do this today, but the thoughts are less frequent and demoralizing. My therapist gives me homework after each session. Assignments have included exploring what “enough” meant to me, list what I no longer want to do and what I want to start doing, process how my grandmother’s death changed my personality, do things outside of my comfort zone, and create affirmations.
All of these required going deeper than I previously allowed myself. I scratched the surface and by my birthday felt that I could drop restrictive feelings. The door on my vision board for 2020 was my curiosity about the other side. I was ready to search, wander, and go. None of that happened, I had to sit in the mess I’d made and fight myself to get out.
Speak Up
I thought 29 would see me go out to find myself, instead I had to stay in with everyone else. It was time to reflect on where I felt my voice didn’t matter or I didn’t use it. The battle against people pleasing tendencies. Not speaking up for myself meant I didn’t set boundaries, a terribly dangerous thing. I didn’t say “no” when I wanted to and knew I should have. It’s cruel to self. I was holding onto a dead relationship. Too afraid to let go and move on. When I finally accepted the end, I had to learn self-care. Learn to be present and intentional with where I am and how I feel.
My therapist wanted me to take time for reflection, dive in and think. I overthink, running many things but not focusing on a single concern. It can be overwhelming going deep, might be why I avoided it. My coping mechanism is to keep things surface. I struggled with being present. My homework was to sit down at the end of the day and ground myself with my senses. What am I touching, what can I see and hear, breathe, and tune into how I feel.
Every small accomplishment was met with my therapist reminding me that I can do hard things. I finally started putting myself first. I journaled, created affirmations, and tried to understand how to speak to myself like a friend. Followed the advice to put my vision boards where I can see them, they still live in multiple places. I wasn’t at home with myself at all. I started the year detached from myself, desperately clinging to something that was no good for me. By the end of the year, I was in a place of solitude where I could focus on me and heal. Get to know myself again and figure out who I really was.
Battlefield
As much as I enjoy solitude, no distractions mean feelings amplify. The negative ones have theater quality surround sound. I was fighting for my life in all seriousness. I described it to my therapist as being “down”. The bare truth would have been better, but I wasn’t ready to share that. I had to get back to journaling consistently and make self-assessments. I wasn’t just down, I was angry. Personally and professionally, everything felt opposed to me. I had to look for moments to be creative, happy, and grateful. Homework and Mary Jane kept me going.
Applying the tools I acquired in therapy brought me to a place where I could begin defining myself. I listed her traits and how she wanted to operate. The essence of who I am now was years in the making. Results from therapy can take time. Dismantling thought patterns, digging into personal narratives, building a new foundation, and living in it. For me, that took years. I built some confidence and was afraid of back sliding. My therapist told me that I got to write the narrative if it ended. I didn’t want it to and knew what I needed to do to maintain it. The fear was okay, how I responded to it was the test.
Giving Grace
The fear of regressing and making the same mistakes was constant. I was learning to be comfortable with myself but not open to other people, platonic or otherwise. How bad did I want my life outside of my home to change? My homework was to decide what being open looked like for me, intentional reflection on feelings of doubt, and making eye contact. My therapist reminded me that I worked for where I was and wasn’t who I used to be. The Plate Exercise was helpful as well. Put everything you’re dealing with on a plate, see where they connect, and find what you’re actually afraid of.
My fear was fumbling my whole life. I didn’t want to become full of myself and bring misfortune to my door. I always viewed myself as a smart person, but the past seemed to tell a different story. My therapist said that being smart doesn’t mean perfection or not making a bad decision. It’s the ability to reason and see things. “Jesus only hung on the cross once, why beat yourself up?” This period was about forgiving myself. I could see my past actions clearly and was frankly disgusted. Berating myself wasn’t going to change the past. It happened, I learned from it, and it was time to move on. I was ready to be cozy with myself and torment wasn’t in the plan.
Cozy, Confident, Capable
Cozy required confidence. Self-love is the underlying goal for this work. I want to be kind to myself but the warm fuzzies are too saccharine. I put my spin on the homework of journaling 3 good things I’ve done or about myself. I turned them into delusions to push myself toward the feeling I get from Janelle Monaé’s “Float”. Confidence came from my capability. I can do so much when I try. I started tackling procrastination by making lists when I’m overwhelmed. My therapist said the more time I give myself the closer the result will be to the picture in my head.
I simultaneously began working toward the life I imagined and appreciating where I was and the progress. My therapist challenged me to decide what I’m leaving here with, what will I take from this life. Simone Boseman inspired me to acknowledge that I’m already who I want to be and to celebrate it. When I’m overwhelmed by my hopes and dreams, I have to remain open to the moment. My job is to be prepared when it arrives, not to control how it happens.
My early thirties feel like recovery. I was removed from a situation I refused to leave at 29. I worked to pull myself back together, learned to let go of what didn’t want me, forgave myself for betraying myself, and built a new foundation. At 33, the work to maintain belief in myself continues. I challenge myself in new ways, stretching past my comfort zone to live as fully as possible. Every tool I’ve gathered in therapy sustains me. I’ll keep building as I prepare for the better and best that are coming.
October 11, 2024
[…] which my therapist regularly urges me to do. I’ve grown tremendously in the last few years – “Go See the Lady”, “Demon Time”, “Wrestling with Perfectionism”. There’s space to be radically honest about […]