What No Longer Serves Me

Possibly a Series on Helpful Things Therapists Say

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

Possibly the most defining characteristic of those who have done the deepest work of healing from the impact of childhood trauma is the recognition of why they do what they do. In the past, they may have said, “Well, that is just who I am,” but now they can say, “I understand why I do or do not [fill in the blank].

When we realize that it isn’t who we are but who we became in order to survive it is common to then feel shame. That shame says, “Why didn’t I see what I was doing and stop doing it? What was wrong with me?”

It is difficult to see what your subconscious doesn’t want you to see! The subconscious builds patterns that protect us as children while at the same time hiding the reasons they are necessary.

For example, because my mother and I never bonded at birth or anytime thereafter, I spent a significant amount of energy as a child and adult searching for an attachment figure who would see and care for me in a way my mother could not.

I wrote a blog titled, Neediness: The Unintended Consequence of Shame in 2017 while processing the shame of being needy. If that aspect of shame is part of your struggles, it is worth reading!

Recognizing this lifelong pattern caused no small amount of shame (the sense that there was something horribly wrong with me) during therapy since being an adult who was still looking for a mother figure showed up often. This required self-compassion for the child who desperately needed a secure attachment relationship!

My therapist said, “You knew exactly what you needed and did an amazing job of trying to meet those needs.” That was life-giving. Yes, I did know what I needed. When attempting to meet those needs caused more pain, it wasn’t my problem, it was the problem of those who preyed on my vulnerability.

Then she said, “The strategies you developed to survive were effective for you as a child. As an adult, who can now care for yourself, they are no longer serving you.”

Wait! How remarkable to understand why I developed the pattern, that it had served me, and that I could now decide it no longer served me—and end it. (Not that patterns just vanish because we tell them to, but it is a start.)

I could give hundreds of examples to illustrate this. I had been surviving and building patterns for a very long time. Some patterns were just odd, some were effective but not healthy, some were adding new layers of shame to my weary soul, and some prevented me from reflecting deeply about myself.

That last one . . .

Not reflecting deeply about why we do the things we do is a hallmark of unresolved trauma. Why? Because at the root of unhealthy patterns is something our subconscious does not want us to return to. It almost always involves shame. Shame is not something that begs us to reflect deeply. In fact, it is what causes us to avoid reflection.

The ultimate survival strategy is to not think deeply about what is going on inside of us. It hides all other strategies underneath it. It may tell us the problem is always the other person, not us. Sometimes that is true, but without deep reflection, we cannot know. Besides, it usually hides the internal belief that we are the problem—always.

Inner child work allows us to find the wounded child who developed the strategy, provide the care she (or he) needed at the time, and release the burden of shame that settled in around the event. Then, to say, “Thank you for taking care of me with this strategy you developed. You were an amazing little survivor. I am an adult now and no longer need you to care for me in this way—that strategy no longer serves me (us). You should have been able to enjoy your childhood instead of caring for me. What would you like to do instead?”

This is how I set my storyteller free. She had been telling stories about my life that left out the abuse and hid the painful impact of shame. I avoided self-reflection at all turns. I was very adamant that “journalling was not something I would ever enjoy.” That belief was a protective strategy.

Avoiding self-reflection and writing that involves emotions no longer serves me. Doing that enabled me to survive but also robbed me of my best path to healing. For some, that path may be some form of artistic expression or physical activity. Avoidance is often couched in “that just isn’t me,” or “I have never been good at [fill in the blank].” It generally—upon reflection—includes a hint of “I wish I was.”

Who are we? Without reflection, we are often what we become because of avoidance. Who we become arrives in many ways. Sometimes it arrives as the result of a failure, the impact of trauma, unmet childhood needs, or being shamed. It can be anything, even things that our young minds misinterpreted. Many say to me, “I didn’t really have any trauma.” Maybe not a specific traumatic event, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something to reflect upon.

Plain and simple . . . avoidance no longer serves us. In this current world, we live in, it is difficult to know what is true and not true, but the truth of our own story is something we can know. We may not understand the root cause of every unhealthy pattern, but in most instances, we can unravel it. Not reflecting deeply serves no one but those who are comfortable with who we have become by way of the strategies we developed to survive. (Think people pleasing for instance!)

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Additional Reflection:

After I wrote that last sentence, I realized its importance. Though this post is not about spirituality, a hallmark of spirituality is deep reflection—often practiced through prayer (talking to God) and meditation. In Christianity, it is the work of the Holy Spirit to search out our hearts and emotions. Spirituality then is about how deep reflection helps us to become the best version of ourselves.

For the most part, we are more focused on what we are saying in our prayers than we are on listening. (I discussed this struggle with silence in Trauma in the Pews.) Trauma-based healing enabled me to listen and reflect deeply. I see this depth in the writings of those who have done the deep work of healing. Their writing doesn’t tell me what to think but instead draws me to deeper reflection and often makes me uncomfortable in areas of my life that I may be blind to—bias for instance. Reflection leads me forward into what I describe as Post-Traumatic Spiritual Growth. It recognizes avoidance and digs deeper.

I always thought of the following verse as something that would happen in Heaven. Now I understand that God stands ready to help us see ourselves clearly right now—if we are willing to look deeply within ourselves in ways that unravel our story with self-compassion, wise words from a therapist, and some God nudges.

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” (I Corinthians 13:12 NIV)