Inspiration

My Childhood

Looking back, it’s easy to see why I became a therapist: I spent my childhood and teen years with severe anxiety and depression that was undiagnosed and untreated.

My mother struggled with her own undiagnosed and untreated depression which probably started to affect me in utero! Her depression manifested as rage and emotional abuse towards me, her only child.

My parents were divorced; my father was absent, and my mother’s second marriage was fraught with conflict. On top of that, my mother and step-dad had constant conflict with their parents, and their siblings, and with each other. There was daily drama in our small apartment in York, Pennsylvania, full of yelling, cursing and crying. There was no peace in our home.

Although I got along well with the other kids at school, I was completely isolated socially from any contact with them outside of school. No one ever knew how bad I felt, or how bad things really were at home.

I become an expert at masking my pain, and so what everyone saw from the outside was a bright young woman who graduated valedictorian of her high school. Some kids did drugs and acted out. All I did was study–at least it was a “good” addiction!

My Life Begins to Change

My ‘self-enforced study’ got me into Johns Hopkins, where it didn’t take me long to find Psychology which helped me understand myself and other people. I quickly knew that helping others heal would be my life’s work. I got started as soon as possible.

During my sophomore year, I went through my first professional training as a peer counselor. The listening skills I learned there became the rock upon which all my other training was built. I still use them every day.

The deeper I studied Psychology, the more I realized that I had to address my own wounds. A kind professor referred me to my first therapist, a priest named John in Baltimore who was working on his MSW. I can still remember the shock of understanding for the first time that my mother had emotionally abused me.

So much of the work during that year of therapy was in learning to set boundaries with my family so that I could claim my life as truly my own. You see, up until that point all my emotional energy had gone into trying to help everyone else heal, especially my mom.

From my first therapist, I learned that “You didn’t break it, but you have to fix it.” It’s not my fault that I was wounded and in pain; but, like it or not, I had to be the one to fix myself. It’s a hard pill to swallow – it’s unfair, but really it is the human experience.

Early on we really don’t have much choice about what happens to us, do we?

During my year working with John, I also very much wanted to integrate my faith with Psychology. I strongly considered becoming a minister, and so that is how I ended up at seminary. When I realized that my calling as a helper was to be a psychotherapist rather than a minister, I was fortunate that my seminary had an opportunity to also study clinical social work.

My Mentor

My second therapist, a wonderful woman who sadly died in 2003, Bunni Lawrence, modelled for me everything I wanted to be in a therapist. She was brilliant, kind, and patient; and she was particularly skilled at not letting me get away with anything! She called me out when she saw me use my mind to avoid feeling my feelings.

If I couldn’t feel my feelings, I couldn’t grieve and heal. Bunni always took me to the root of my pain, and she held me there with loving kindness and compassion while guiding me to heal. For the first time, I wasn’t alone in the depths of my wounds.

Bunni also taught me that, “You can’t lead someone down a road that you haven’t been willing to walk yourself.” If I wanted to truly help people heal at the painful roots of their problems, I had to make sure I had done my own work. That’s how I became committed to the process of therapy, not just as a therapist, but also as a client myself.

I Am a Whole Person

At the time of this writing, I am 51; and there is a short list of people and experiences that have made a critical difference in moving me from surviving to thriving: the unconditional love of my grandmother, the marriage and family I’ve been able to create, and psychotherapy.

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