Therapy is TOUGH

Sometimes I hate therapy.

I googled this not that long ago and turns out I’m not alone.

I wanted to know why I felt this way, why felt the urge to say “I hate this”

This is probably not something you’d expect the therapist to say about her profession, but after many of my therapy sessions as a client, I say ‘Why is therapy so hard?’ with a groan. 

So what do I mean by hate? This was something I wanted to understand more. 

Part of this captures some of the nuances of change, strength and growth. For me, it’s not restricted to therapy. 

You see, I sometimes say this about going to the gym, going for a run and even about tough poses in Yoga.

And it turns out I don’t hate those things. 

Put simply, I don’t like being uncomfortable.  

Tough poses in Yoga, like practising a handstand or headstand, are tough. Going to the gym and lifting heavy things is tough. Running and feeling out of breath, sucks. 

Attending therapy and feeling vulnerable, raw and exposed is TOUGH. Therapy involves a profound level of vulnerability. When you sit in a therapy session, you are not just talking about surface-level issues; you are delving deep into the emotional and psychological complexities and experiences that shape your life. This process of opening up can feel raw and exposed, much like the physical strain of lifting weights at the gym or pushing through a challenging yoga pose. Just as these physical activities challenge the body, therapy challenges the mind 

I’ve been exploring the link between hate and discomfort and how that could lead to avoidance. I don’t think I can go as far as embracing discomfort in all areas. Yeah, there’s something slightly empowering about understanding that sometimes my dislike or something or my version of it is because it’s hard.

I’m trying to teach myself that I can do hard things. I can lift heavy things. I can learn poses in Yoga, and hold my handstand for longer each time. I can explore the inner workings of my heart and mind, crumble, and then pull myself back together.