On Therapy and Armor

Photo by Terrie Alfieri

I started working with Christine Borst in 2020 to sort out what wasn't working for me in my life at the time. Namely, a relationship I didn't quite fit in and some reactive behaviors I wasn't terribly proud of that weren’t helping the relationship I didn't quite fit in.

After months of working together, unraveling these behaviors and the reasons why I was in that relationship and at the time staying in that relationship, I had this realization one day. This frustrating and sad realization. The question that kept pressing on me was “Do I even exist? As I know myself, which parts are me are my personality, and what’s just a byproduct of my experience?”

Because it seems like I didn't really have a personality at all. I was just sort of an amalgamation of all of the capital T and lower case t trauma that had happened to me. I didn't really have a personality, I just had sort of forged steel plates to protect myself as a reaction to life. I didn't really have a personality, I just... I knew how to protect the people I love and had found ways to make sure that they were safe. 

And I was sad. I texted my sister and I said, I don't really understand - am I anything more than just all of the consequences of everything that's happened in my life?

It took me four years and on and off work with Christine. A lot of life shake ups and changes and reflection and exploration to understand that while I do carry the plates of armor with me, each link of the chainmail that creates my protection from the world. I do carry all that with me. That was true. 

But it was also true that when I shed that, there always was a full person under there. Burbling under the surface of people pleasing protecting armor and perfectionism that kept me controlling everything so I’d be safe, there was a whole world of personality. There always was quirks and interests and fascinations and thoughts, reflections, weird obtuse, confusing, unclear, needing further consideration.

There was always all of that. That always existed. I always existed. When you make a decision to start down that road of therapy, it can be so truly terrifying to be faced with the fact that maybe, and this isn't true, you’ll be faced with the realization that what is reflecting back in the mirror at that moment is a collection of coping mechanisms. It might seem like that, as you move through, for a moment that may appear to be your reality. But really, you have to step into the mirror to find the places where the armor connects, you might need a guide who knows how to use tools to remove the bolts you welded in to keep the pieces attached. But don’t look away, don’t step out of the mirror, because underneath whatever carefully or erratically constructed armor you’ve assembled yourself is you, imperfect, questioning, laughing, joking, crying, interested and authentic you.