You don’t have to know what to do.
It was a dark week for me. I had a close loved one in the hospital, another loved one very sick, and my children were on ‘remote learning’ because of COVID outbreak at school. I felt like I was stretched past my limit. Homeschooling my children beyond my own abilities, with inconsistent internet access, running my own business, meeting deadlines for writing and training engagements, and meeting the demands of clients coming out of the woodworks after a year of radio silence. I struggled with my capacity to show up for clients. I talked to a dear friend and colleague one evening and I remember saying “I don’t think I have anything left to offer”. She validated my experience and told me I wasn’t alone. That was actually just what I needed to hear. I didn’t realize it, but I realized part of why the week was so dark for me was because of my long standing high expectation I have for myself to always know what to do, what to say, and how to be exactly what people need. As I even type it out now I realize how unrealistic it is, and how it’s not what my role is anyways…..especially in the therapy room. I realized that I had been sucked back into an old pattern I get into with clients (and in my personal life), where I assume responsibility for knowing what to do. When people come in, in their darkest, scariest, most desperate places, they often send these little meta messages that say ‘help me, fix me’….(sometimes not so meta), open handed, vulnerable, desperate…..my heart opens up and desperately wants to help. When I’m not grounded, that’s just what I do….jump in ready to help, ready to solve, ready to fix.
It was in that dark week, only a few months ago, that I remembered something important about the therapeutic journey…. I don’t have to know what to do. In fact, when I begin to believe the lie that I do need to know, I end up getting in the way of the healing process. I insert what I think someone needs and take away their own power to heal. I take responsibility for something that isn’t mine, and in the process disempower someone else. In doing this, I abandon my own core value as a therapist, in favor of control. Sneaky isn’t it? Veiled under the guise of helping.
In one of the darkest weeks of the past year, I came to realize my burn out was in part related to all the things that were happening in my life, both personal and professional, outside of my control. And the lie that I should know what to do was guiding my helplessness, hopelessness, and even some fleeting thoughts of getting out of the business. The gentle reminder that my friend offered, ‘you are not alone’, actually started a little flame in me that has been burning for a while. This flame was fanned when another friend and colleague encouraged me to begin offering more of what I do individually with therapists through supervision and consultation in a bigger, more widescale fashion. A flame to create community, encouragement and support for other therapists who may be feeling some of the same things, especially in the face of ALL we have faced in the past year. A community where we can be honest about the fact that we are trying to lead people through something we have never been through ourselves.
My hope that is through this community, we can find support to name the lies, we can find accountability to our own growth as a professional and as a person, and we can remember the truth about who we are and the role we play in the fabric of the places in which we all live.
Alice Stricklin, LMFT
