I Am …

Two of the most powerful words to be spoken to ourselves. They give a sense of anticipation. They can be the starting block to build up or to knock down.

The ‘I’ gives us responsibility, the ‘am’ gives us ownership. Together, they can form identity. Our identity.

Take a moment to finish the sentence ‘I am …’.

The first time I ever did this exercise I kept it safe, I was in a lecture after all. ‘I am female’. ‘I am a parent’. ‘I am married’. ‘I am a student’. I was quite proud of myself when I came up with ‘I am tired’. Most of the class came up with ‘I am a student’ so the lecturer challenged us. She said, ‘how much of you is a student?’ The response of blank looks was chased by another question ‘what attributes do you present which make you a student?’ Then ‘what does being a student tell me about who you are at your core?’. From those two simple words, we can be unraveled. Layer upon layer gently peeled back to explore what our safe ‘I am …’ truly means. What identity it truly gives us.

It is so easy for us to lose our identities within the chaos of life. Sometimes we get stuck in one identity and start believing that’s all there is to us. Then there are times where it feels as though an aspect of our identity is stripped away and we feel lost without it. Some aspects of our identity are flung on us, words spoken over and over until we believe it, others sneak up on us without warning and the realisation can be startling. It doesn’t matter how young or how old you are, knowing who we are and what our place is in the world can be life altering.

If you need help finishing the ‘I am …’ statement feel free to contact me. Together we can look for the end of the sentence. Together we can explore what that identity means for you. And together, we can find how to stand in that identity and know what makes you, you.

I’m Also a We

‘For a long time, I was afraid to be who I am because I was taught … that there’s something wrong with someone like me. Something offensive, something you would avoid, maybe even pity. Something that you could never love. I was afraid of this parade because I wanted so badly to be a part of it. So today, I’m marching for that part of me that was once too afraid to march. And for all the people who can’t march … the people living lives like I did. Today, I march to remember that I’m not just a me, I’m also a we. And we march with pride.” – Sense8

This is a quote from a TV show, and the character who says it is a transgender woman who has a wonderful and powerful story of rejection and acceptance. A woman whose own family struggle to accept her as the person she has chosen to be.

You may not be a person who is struggling with your sexuality specifically, it may be that, instead, you are struggling with accepting who you are in other ways. Perhaps you have been given a diagnosis which you feel has trapped you into a perceived identity. Maybe you have lost someone, through separation or death, and feel like you can’t find who you are without them in your life. Or it could be that you relate with the character in the show and you are struggling with your sexuality and/or who you feel drawn to identifying yourself as. With any of these, and many more that I haven’t mentioned, you could feel ashamed, scared, trapped, unsafe, confused. Maybe you’ve been told, or feel, that no one could ever love you or accept you because of how you are or want to be. I want you to know that you are not alone.

While each person’s life is unique and completely individual, there are often aspects that we may recognise in another person’s story. We may identify something similar to our own experiences in the life of another. You are not alone. There are others who are further ahead in their stories than you are. You do not need to be alone on your journey. There are people marching in life’s parade for those who are too afraid to march. Too hurting to march. Too exhausted to march. Too confined by their circumstances and situations to march. They are cheering you on through all the difficulties. You may not feel they are there. You may never get the chance to meet them, but you are not alone. Today there are people marching for you, wanting to walk alongside you, to support you, to take the journey with you, all the highs and all the lows.

We want to walk with you so that you can always remember that you are no longer a me but a we. So that one day you can look back on the journey you have taken and feel pride. So that you can stand and look at yourself and know that you are worth being loved, worth being accepted. Right now it may feel impossible, so let us hold the hope for you, just for now, and let us support you through your march.

What is below has been written by someone who wishes to stay anonymous but would like to share their words with others, in the hope that it can give encouragement, comfort and maybe even hope of their own. They started by sharing it with a group of people who had experienced similar losses and times of darkness and, in doing so, I watched as these words started to turn lights on in others who had felt as though they had nothing left except darkness.

The reason I love this so much is because it speaks of words and is expressed through writing, something which I believe can be a great way to express when verbalising is a real struggle. Even in the counselling room writing can be incorporated when language seems to get stuck in emotion. The action of writing something down on paper and seeing it there, solid, it can have a big impact on us as individuals.

26 Letters

‘I’ve often marveled at the English language. 26 letters combining together, in a multitude of ways to create names, poetry, books, reports, studies. It’s like magic! It gets even more fascinating when you think that those same/similar letters can be spoken in different ways to create whole languages which in their turn can compile books, poetry, essays etc.

Now, you would think that in all those combinations there would always be a word or phrase to express anything you could desire, however, as I bear witness to daily, this is not the case. Sometimes, words just aren’t enough.

The first time I spoke to him was over our words. Our passion for the creations we would birth in our minds and then record for others to enjoy. Life hadn’t been easy for him and he couldn’t understand how a person like me, young and privileged, could write out of such pain and darkness. To be fair, I’ve never been able to understand why myself but the words that he read mirrored his own pained cries. Our friendship grew over the years as did our lives. I travelled the world, explored, lived, making the most of what was handed to me in life. In stark contrast he worked for everything he had, which was pretty much nothing, and he felt strangled, suffocated by the restrictions of his life. Even when I settled and got married, had kids, my own freedoms suddenly reigned in, I couldn’t claim it to be anywhere near as stifling as his constant battle with life. What we had together though, that was breath-taking. The worlds we created, the stories we told, the songs our hearts sang in poetry form, words, weaving us together. We laughed, cried, celebrated, loved, shouted, swore and started the whole cycle again. Twelve years, inseparable. We spoke daily, feeling lost if one of us was unable to communicate for more than 8hours. Then one day, it stopped. His final words saying goodbye and that he loved me. Now it’s not been hours since speaking to him but months. Almost a year.

You know that moment where you’ve been in a really sunny, bright place and then suddenly you enter a tunnel and you literally can’t see anything? Yeah, that’s how it felt. Maybe at the start I hoped beyond all hope that I’d come out that tunnel quickly and have the sun shining on me again but after a couple of months I realised I would have to let my eyes adjust to the dark. He truly was gone. What made things worse is that people don’t understand. They say things like, ‘but you were just words to each other’ and I look at them and don’t understand them. How do people not get that words mean more to me than anything? I don’t see in pictures or colours or even smells, I see life through words, letters mingled together to create something beautiful. Part of my language has been taken from me, by his own hand. Part of my alphabet gone.

As I walked through the darkest areas of the tunnel which had suddenly consumed my life, I would get flashes of light. Not sunlight, more like street lights. Illuminating but nowhere near as life giving as the real thing. Memories, good memories, flashes of joy, amusement, even shyness. Sometimes the light is slightly brighter, sometimes just flickering, like the bulb was about to blow. I think I’m starting to accept that there are skylights in my tunnel though. I still miss him more than I can express, but I promised him that every word I write will be for him, his memory, his sunshine back in this world, a part of him to share with others. It’s taken me a while, almost a year, but I’m starting to feel my words come back to me. I feel like I can speak our language again, practicing with people who understand this amazing world of creativity. I don’t cry when I think about him in our world, I smile. I have never been so grateful to a group of people in my life. A family no outsider truly understands. Connected by words. Connected by minds. Connected by 26 letters.’

If you feel as though these words are something which has touched a part of you that feels like it would like to be explored, or you want to reach the stage this writer has slowly managed to get to but don’t know how to alone, please feel free to contact me, and we can see if working together could be a way forward for you.

Remember words are powerful things, let’s see if we can use them to help you through whatever it is you are facing.

Grief and Pain

Today you find me surrounded by books, notebooks, pens, highlighters and sticky notes. While I may have graduated some time ago, this setup is very similar to how I would study for an exam. However, this time, there is no exam, just a young person going through an experience which I am trying my hardest to make sense of.

By that I don’t mean I can’t understand what they are saying, or that I am confused by what is being said, far from it in fact. The wonderful thing about working with teenagers is that if they have reached the stage where they want to see their school counsellor, they are usually ready to talk. So, no, I am not trying to make sense of the words this young person is saying, I’m trying to make sense of why some young people (well all people really) sometimes have to go through heart breaking, life changing situations. Unfortunately, my books don’t answer those questions, however, what they do is give me the comfort of knowing that other’s have battled with the same questions I have, and, through their experience and learning, they have written about how they have walked with another through those difficult situations.

So today I am reading up on Grief and Bereavement, a subject which I have a fair amount of experience in. With a background in health care I have seen the complexities of loss and death. I have sat with many family members as their loved ones slip away, I have been part of teams supporting individuals coming to terms with the fact they have a terminal illness. However, I think it’s important to remember that, loss does not always mean death. Grief is not always over a life no longer with us, and bereavement comes in many forms. For some it can be due to an accident or injury which has contributed to a disability, causing a sense of loss over what was before. For others, it can be that a loved one is slowly losing who they were due to illness’ such as Alzheimer’s or Parkinson’s. In some situations, it can be that individuals have had to move away from somewhere they felt safe and at home to a new place which may seem unfamiliar and intimidating. All of these, and many more, are just as valid a reason to feel grief as any of the others.

Why are you reading up on something you are familiar with then? I hear you ask. Why are you trying to make sense of something as common as loss? It’s quite simple really. Have you ever looked into the eyes of a teenager as they speak about someone they love who they know is dying or has just died? No matter how often I have faced it in the past, it never becomes easier. So here I am, finding myself looking through the books, which I know almost off by heart, hoping that this time I might find magic words that will make it all better and wishing that I didn’t already know the truth, that it is going to be a difficult journey for that person sat in front of me, never mind what age they are. That doesn’t stop me searching and studying and rereading, because maybe, somewhere in my deepest hopes, I’ll learn new ways to walk with those suffering a bereavement which will help them to feel a sense of things being OK again. That maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to look that young person in the eyes and say, ‘I know it hurts more than words can describe, I know it feels like nothing will ever be the same, but I also know that together we’ll get through this, and you’ll reach the point where you smile when you think of that person not cry’ and know that that is a good enough answer to the pain.

A Map.

‘What do you think I should do?’ is a question I have been asked more times than I can count. I get a client here and there who knows my opinion on the words ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’ so will ask ‘what would you do?’ instead, but the seeking of an answer to their troubles is still consistent. I’m the ‘professional’, the one who is ‘educated’ in what is ‘normal’. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad question to ask and I love hearing it, because it means that my opinion is valued by those who sit before me, struggling with whatever life is throwing at them.

Surely, I hear you say, that’s what you’re there for. Telling us what to do about the situations we’ve found ourselves in, how to make it better, how to choose the right path to take. I’m sorry if this comes as a disappointment to you but that’s not what counselling is. Yes, of course I’ll have my own opinion on a situation and probably have an idea of what I would want to do if I were in your shoes, but that’s exactly the point, it’s what I would do, me, not you.

When you are sat opposite me, you are seeing a culmination of my personality, my experiences, my background, my culture, my thought processes, my education … you get the drift. I may be a professional who has learnt about the patterns in people’s behaviour which can allow me to predict what it is you are experiencing, what the possible outcomes are. I might even see past what it is you are telling me into what your body, expression, eyes, and voice are telling me but what I can’t do is tell you what to think and feel, believe and want. This life is yours, someone is already living mine, but you are unique in living out yours, and there is no one else in the entire universe who is able to live it.

So what good am I then? If I can’t tell you what to do, if I can’t make a situation better what can I do?  Well, l most of all I can give you space, space to be allowed to just sit and be. A space to be allowed to think and feel your whatever you want. A space where you are allowed to focus on yourself for a while without feeling like you should be doing something else. I don’t always make things easy for you though. I ask questions, I explore.

I see it like this, you open up the map of your life and I look at all the journeys and explorations which you have made. When there is a rumple I ask you to flatten it out for me a little. Sometimes I’ll ask you why you didn’t go a specific route or why you keep visiting certain areas more than once. Together we get to look in more detail at the landscapes of your life, the roads you have travelled, what has brought you to the place you are right now. It’s a process that can allow you to not only learn more about yourself but also about how you see the world around you. I can’t answer what path you should take next, but I might be able to let you see there is actually more options than you thought you had. When we are together, you are allowed to sit down and rest, no more journeying needed while we talk, just exploring the surroundings, where you’re coming from and where you want to go, then, together, we find a way for you to take the next steps of your journey.

I’m sorry I can’t answer your question of ‘what do you think I should do?’, if only life were that simple, but I can help you answer the questions for yourself, and sometimes, I can help you see questions that need asked that you have never thought of.

So how about we go on this section of your journey together? Let’s explore and learn together. Let’s go on a mini adventure within the great adventure of life. Bring your map and I’ll bring the compass and we can find you, a true you, as we go on a search for the answers to your questions.