For much of my life I鈥檇 watch others express their feelings, wondering why I couldn鈥檛 feel. I didn鈥檛 think happiness or joy were meant for me, and the only compassion I felt was for others. I could feel anger 鈥� it was my friend, it drove me, it kept me going. I wore resilience and my strong independent persona like a badge of honour. I was aware of what happened to me as a child but kept it far away, out of reach.
My first experience of therapy was in 1990 for support during a traumatic divorce. I was training to be a social worker while bringing up three young children. My desperation for their childhood not to resemble mine drove me to use those sessions to help me function and get through a situation that might otherwise have broken me. I existed to meet the needs of my children.听
Several years later I met my current partner and we set up the National Association for People Abused in Childhood. We were both abused as children, and unsurprisingly our relationship was starting to limp with the weight of our wounds and our work. The opportunity arose for us to have NHS-funded couples therapy through a GP referral, and I started working with Hilary.* The experience felt like a lifeline, and as the couples sessions came to a close I knew I needed therapy like I needed oxygen. My children were adults, and I was ready to put time and energy into myself. I had no idea how therapy would change my life.听
Hilary knew some of my history from the couples sessions but there was so much more. I kept a journal from the start. On reflection I think recording my feelings gave me the confidence to verbalise them. I shared the content with Hilary and in one session she asked, 鈥榃hat do you see when you think about yourself at the age when you were being abused?鈥� I realised I could only see adult me. It was as though the child had never existed. It was a great question.听
Hilary suggested we use photographs of me at that age, which helped bring the little me back to life. My first reaction was that I hated the little girl in the photo, which shocked me. Bit by painful bit I began to connect with little me, and found her frozen and hidden at the bottom of an enormous iceberg occupying the space between the adult I had become and the child I had been. Over time, as trust developed, I changed from someone who existed in the cold and grey to someone who learned to be curious, feel feelings, experience joy and see colour. Sadly, in 2016 Hilary had to retire on health grounds, which was tough for us both. I wasn鈥檛 ready for my sessions to end.听
In 2017 I began to see another therapist, Maggie,* for weekly sessions. We initially worked through the all-consuming sadness of loss and fear I was feeling. Therapy wasn鈥檛 linear, but as we moved through the process of therapy I found myself dealing with difficulties in achieving an outcome I wanted. We talked about me giving mixed messages, and Maggie asked, 鈥榃hat is your bottom line?鈥� I realised in that moment that the uncertainty I felt was an indication of how low my expectations continued to be for myself. It was another great question.听
I chose to end therapy with Maggie in 2022. With the legacy of her wisdom and healing balm, and with Hilary鈥檚 love and care, I continue to evolve into an emotionally connected adult who lives rather than merely exists. There are times when I feel sad and angry for all I have been through and all I have lost, and occasionally I disconnect, but I no longer wonder what it is like to feel. I know happiness and joy are for me, and I love being curious.听
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