What a broad title. I could probably write a book on the power of therapy alone, purely from my own experiences. But I’ll try and limit it to a mere dissertation on one key subject – mostly.
For most of my life I felt like I didn’t fit. I was a square while the space available was for a circle. I didn’t fit at school, I didn’t fit outside of school. This I found was more of an issue when trying to form friendships, because I would try so hard to be a circle. My perception of who I needed to be in order to fit in with a group. So I’d bounce between all the different groups at school, never quite fitting into any but like I was accepted at a distance. Id say and do things that felt so so wrong in a bid to be accepted, to find my place. To find somewhere that would fully accept me. Of course it never happened, because I was never myself and I didn’t even know who I truly was. I’d made myself malleable, which also made me easily manipulated, and easily bullied.
The truth is it wasn’t just the doing and saying things that I thought I should be in order to be accepted that made me unacceptable. For years I had thoughts and feelings that I could never understand. At times, and hand on heart this is the truth, I worried that I’d turn out to be some psychopath that they make documentaries about. Not that I’d be that infamous, but that one day I might turn out to be that messed up. I thought there was truly something wrong with me. My deepest fear was that someone would see through to the real me and confirm that there was something wrong and disturbing about me.
But those thoughts were a product of my environment. I went to an all girls school as a day student, though a large population were boarders. The majority of which were international students. I’ve met some of the most wonderful people I know there, but I’m not in touch with any of them. Because I wasn’t me, and so I didn’t fit. But as most can agree, teenage girls are worse than teenage boys. I suffered some horrendous bullying which had a massive, and lasting impact on me and who I am. Particularly in my later years at the school. But during my early time there, there was a lot of homophobic comments or suggestions that as I said – made my thoughts a product of their environment. Made me believe that there was something wrong with liking women as a woman. That there are dos and don’ts . Don’t make eye contact with her or she’ll think you’re into her and come onto you. Don’t sit near her, she’ll touch your leg and try it on with you. Because of her electric toothbrushes are banned. They even made up lies constantly about things some girl did that proved she liked women, as if this was the greatest sin. You see I then developed a fear of eye contact, and physical contact even if accidental. Particularly if it was accidental.
I didn’t realise as I went into adulthood that I was suffering from severe social anxiety. Anxious that I didn’t fit in, anxious about eye contact or physical contact. Anxious about someone seeing the true Chloe – the weird, potential psychopath, being all awkward. The fear of being outed as this version of me I truly thought I was.
My anxiety made me suffer more in group settings, particularly with people I didn’t know. I know now that due to my anxiety I have unintentionally hurt others through my actions. Actions sometimes purely due to anxiety taking control, and actions I thought I needed to perform in order to fit in and be accepted. But I didn’t know I had anxiety. And when I say it makes me sick knowing I’ve hurt someone, I mean it can literally make me sick. The knots and weight and ache in my stomach from the guilt of finding out I’ve hurt someone. Because I know what it feels like to be hurt time and time again. But because I didn’t understand that my anxiety or compulsion to conform was fuelling these actions all I could offer was a measly apology. No explanation , sometimes I’d give some excuse I’d concocted because I didn’t know why I did these things either. I can’t change what I have done or any hurt I’ve caused in the past. But I truly wish I could go back and explain myself truthfully at the time.
When I started college over 12 years ago I met two women who are my closest friends. They’re family to me and I would do whatever it takes to never lose them. One I’d met before, her sister went to my school in a different year and we’d met a few times when I’d go round to hang out or at parties. I walked in and sat with the one person in the room I’d met before, Hannah. Because it’s a lot less scary being in a room full of strangers when you know one of the people vaguely. The woman she was sat with was Darcy. Somehow I wasn’t scared or anxious around these two. I never have been, even though I didn’t really know them. My mind just told me these people were safe. I’ve been closed off in the past to some extent, to protect myself, but I’ve never felt the need to pretend I was someone or something else around them. I found my people.
It wasn’t until I was around 27 that I had a moment which made me subconsciously explore my thoughts and feelings. I met a friend of a friend, a lovely woman, who scared the shit out of me. I felt like every time we made eye contact she could see deep into my soul. I was both attracted to her and terrified in equal measure. I felt like my deepest fear had come true and she could see me for who I thought I was.
Gradually these thoughts and feelings became unavoidable, and then one night out after far to much tequila I asked Darcy ‘what if I like women?’. She informed Hannah of this on her way home – I think they knew that this was a monumental moment in my quest to finding myself. Between them they ensured that this didn’t go brushed under the carpet and forgotten about and we have discussed it at length over the years. My people, my safe space. But Hannah especially raised this plenty, as we lived together for nearly 4 years she saw first hand the depth of my anxiety and pain. The changes in me around different people.
It wasn’t until I was 28 that I finally discussed this with my therapist. It wasn’t until I was 29 that I came to a place of acceptance and understanding. AND THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH ME. I’m not a fucking psychopath. There’s nothing wrong with me and suddenly these intrusive and shaming thoughts have gone quiet.
See therapy has brought me to this place. A place of acceptance and understanding. I’ve finally found the real me and been able to accept her with open arms. This weekend I got to come out to my closest friends at a party – while sober. One of the women there, who I have hurt in the past due to anxiety driven actions, said she felt like she was finally seeing the real me. Let me tell you, the emotions I felt in that moment were crazy. I felt pride, but mostly I finally felt like I was an equal in that room. Just a beautiful group of women who were all, unapologetically, themselves. And suddenly so was I, thus making me their equal. I finally found my home, a space that I fit in perfectly just as I was. A space the universe held for me that was exactly my shape and size. I also felt I could finally forgive myself for all the hurt that I’m responsible for because I didn’t find myself sooner.
I still have growth to make. Wounds to heal and things to battle. My social anxiety has not vanished, and while these intrusive thoughts are a lot quieter now I’ve identified what’s behind them I still need to work through it further. See those intrusive thoughts didn’t just stay in one part of me. It wasn’t just don’t make eye contact with women or physical contact. They spread like the rot they were to other parts of my thoughts. Analysing every movement or action I make to ensure I’m not labelled something worse than someone who likes women. Fear around children, fear around taken men, fear during almost every interaction with anyone I came into contact with. Because those initial thoughts spread, and they created this fear inside me that there was some disturbingly wrong with me. I know different now, I’m not a psychopath, I’m just a normal human being. This is just the symptom of the rot that spread from what I had drilled into me growing up. The fear of the label. I’m bisexual, but I am not a danger to society. But that healing has already started, I’m so much more comfortable already around all sorts of people, because I no longer fear being falsely labelled because I’ve identified my correct label.
See the power of friends is this: I’d have never reached this place without meeting my people, sitting in an art class. Without them I’d have never met that woman who I felt saw through my charade. And without friends who were open and accepting without judgement, encouraging me to search for my true self, I’d have never reached this point. The power of therapy is this: without it, I’d have never found acceptance for myself, I’d have never loved myself enough to stop hiding and pretending. I’d have never fought to bring my true self into the light to be seen and open to judgement. Yet somehow I don’t fear this judgement and I don’t fear being seen. THAT is the power of therapy and good friends.