Have you ever experienced something upsetting or frightening in the past and thought: “I know I'm safe now. I know it happened years ago. So why does my body still react as though it's happening again?” Perhaps your heart starts racing when something reminds you of what happened. You feel sick, shaky or suddenly overwhelmed. You might find yourself wanting to escape, becoming very alert to what is happening around you, or feeling completely numb and disconnected. Sometimes the reaction seems far bigger than the situation in front of you. You may even tell yourself: “I'm being ridiculous.” “I should be over this by now.” “It happened a long time ago.” But trauma isn't simply about remembering what happened. Sometimes the body has learned to respond to danger even when the danger is no longer there. Understanding this can be an important first step towards recovery. What is a trauma response? When we experience something frightening, threatening or overwhelming, our nervous system responds to help protect us. We might fight, run away, freeze, become extremely alert or try to find a way of staying safe. This is a normal human response to danger. The difficulty can arise when the experience has ended but the nervous system continues to respond as though danger might still be present. A reminder doesn't necessarily have to be obvious. It could be: a particular smell a sound a place someone's tone of voice a certain type of relationship a physical sensation a photograph a date or anniversary a particular thought or feeling You may consciously know that you are safe, while another part of your nervous system reacts differently. This can be confusing and frightening. Why can the body react when I know I'm safe? Our brains are constantly taking in information and looking for potential danger. After a traumatic or overwhelming experience, the brain can become particularly sensitive to anything that resembles the original threat. This is sometimes described as the nervous system becoming “stuck on alert.” Someone, for example, who experienced a frightening event involving a particular sound may find that sound triggering years later. They don't necessarily consciously think: “This sound means the traumatic event is happening again.” Instead, their body may react first. Their heart races. Their muscles tense. Their breathing changes. They feel an urge to get away. The response can happen before they have had time to think about what is happening. This is one reason simply telling yourself “I'm safe” doesn't always make the reaction disappear. The thinking part of the brain may know you are safe, while the nervous system is responding as though it needs to protect you. Trauma can live in the body People sometimes expect trauma to look like vivid memories or nightmares. For some people it does. For others, trauma may show up more subtly through physical and emotional responses. You might experience: racing heart tightness in your chest nausea sweating trembling feeling on edge difficulty sleeping irritability or anger feeling detached or numb panic difficulty concentrating avoiding particular situations feeling unsafe even when there is no obvious danger You may not always understand why these things are happening. This can lead to another layer of distress: “Why am I reacting like this?” That question can sometimes become more painful than the original reaction. Why do I avoid things that remind me of what happened? Avoidance is a very understandable response to fear. If something makes us feel unsafe, our natural instinct may be to stay away from it. Initially, this can work. You avoid the situation and your anxiety decreases. Your body relaxes. You feel safer but your brain may then learn: “Avoiding this kept me safe.” The next time you encounter something similar, the urge to avoid may become stronger. Over time, your world can become smaller. You might stop going to certain places, avoid particular people, change your routines or constantly monitor your surroundings. You may know that the avoidance is affecting your life, but still feel unable to stop. Again, this doesn't mean that you are weak. It means your protective system is trying very hard to keep you safe. Why can reactions seem to come from nowhere? Sometimes a trauma response has an obvious trigger. Other times it seems to appear completely unexpectedly. You might suddenly feel anxious or distressed without immediately knowing why. There may be a connection that your conscious mind hasn't identified. A smell, sound, physical sensation, facial expression or situation may have reminded your brain of something from the past. This doesn't mean that every uncomfortable feeling is caused by trauma. When a response seems disproportionate, persistent or difficult to understand, it can be useful to become curious rather than critical. Instead of: “What's wrong with me?” you might ask: “What might my body be responding to?” Does this mean I haven't healed? Not necessarily. Recovery from trauma isn't always a straightforward process. You may have gone for years feeling that you had moved on, only to find that something has brought old feelings back. Sometimes a new life experience can activate something from the past. Becoming a parent, for example, entering a new relationship, experiencing a loss or going through a significant change can sometimes bring old experiences into awareness. This doesn't mean you have failed. It may simply mean that something that was previously manageable now needs attention. How can therapy help? One of the aims of trauma therapy is not simply to make you talk repeatedly about what happened. It is to help you develop a different relationship with the memories, feelings and physical responses associated with the experience. In counselling, we can explore what happens when you are triggered, what you notice in your body, what thoughts and beliefs arise, and how you have learned to protect yourself. An integrative approach can be particularly helpful because there isn't always one explanation for why someone continues to struggle after a difficult experience. We can consider thoughts and behaviours, emotions, relationships, attachment experiences and the ways in which earlier experiences may still influence the present. The aim is to understand the whole person rather than simply focusing on a symptom. Where does EMDR fit in? EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing) is a therapy that can be used to help people process distressing or traumatic experiences. It is based on the idea that some experiences may not have been fully processed and can continue to feel emotionally or physically present. During EMDR, the therapist helps you access aspects of the experience while using bilateral stimulation, such as guided eye movements or another form of alternating stimulation. The aim is not to erase the memory. You will still remember what happened, but the memory may no longer feel as though it is happening to you now. For some people, this can mean that previously intense physical reactions become less powerful. A situation that once triggered panic may become more manageable. A memory that once felt overwhelming may become something you can remember without being completely pulled back into the experience. EMDR is not suitable for everyone at every point in their therapy, and a careful assessment is important before beginning trauma processing. You are not your trauma response Perhaps one of the most important things to understand is that your response is not a sign that there is something fundamentally wrong with you. Your nervous system has been trying to protect you. Sometimes it simply continues using an old alarm system in situations where the original danger is no longer present. Recovery involves helping your mind and body learn something new: “That happened then. I am here now. I am safe enough in this moment.” This doesn't mean forcing yourself to stop feeling. It means gradually developing a greater sense of safety, understanding your responses and, when appropriate, processing the experiences that may still be affecting you. You don't have to understand everything before asking for help You don't need to have a diagnosis of PTSD to seek support. You don't need to be able to explain exactly why you are reacting and you don't have to tell your entire story in your first counselling session. Therapy can begin with simply understanding what is happening for you now. Together, we can become curious about the patterns, triggers and responses that are affecting your life and consider what might help. You can remember what happened without having to keep reliving it. Often healing begins when we stop asking “Why can't I just get over this?” and start asking: “What is my mind and body trying to tell me?” How Cosmos Counselling can help If past experiences are continuing to affect how you feel, think or respond in the present, counselling can provide a safe space to explore this without judgement. At Cosmos Counselling, I work integratively, drawing on approaches including trauma-informed therapy and EMDR where appropriate. We can work collaboratively to understand what you are experiencing and consider what approach may be most helpful for you. If you would like to discuss whether counselling or EMDR might be suitable for you, please get in touch. For further information about EMDR: Home - EMDR UK Association

Quote on background of palm trees and blue sky. Have you ever found yourself thinking: “I know this isn't good for me, so why do I keep doing it?” So, why do I keep doing things I know are bad for me? Perhaps you keep returning to a relationship that leaves you unhappy. Maybe you avoid situations because you are worried about what might happen, even though you know avoidance is making your anxiety worse. Perhaps you constantly seek reassurance, overthink conversations, put everyone else's needs before your own, or become incredibly critical of yourself when things don't go as planned. Sometimes we can understand perfectly well, intellectually, that a particular behaviour isn't helping us, yet changing it can feel surprisingly difficult. This can leave us feeling frustrated with ourselves. Why can't I just stop? What's wrong with me? Why do I keep making the same mistakes? But what if there is another way of looking at it? Rather than asking, “What's wrong with me?”, it can be more helpful to ask, “What is this behaviour trying to do for me?” Good and less good behaviours often have a purpose Many of the patterns we develop are ways of trying to manage something difficult. Perhaps avoiding situations helps you feel safer. Checking things repeatedly gives you a temporary sense of certainty. Keeping everyone happy reduces the fear of conflict. Staying quiet protects you from feeling rejected. Being hard on yourself might feel as though it keeps you motivated or prevents you from making mistakes. The difficulty is that something which helped us cope at one point in our lives can become unhelpful later. Imagine someone, for example, who learned early in life that expressing their needs was likely to result in criticism or rejection. They may become very good at putting other people's needs first. As an adult, they might find themselves saying yes when they want to say no, struggling to ask for help and feeling resentful that nobody seems to consider their needs. They may recognise the pattern but still find it extremely difficult to change. This doesn't mean they are weak or lacking in willpower. Rather: The pattern may have become a deeply learned way of keeping themselves safe or maintaining relationships. Understanding this can be the beginning of change. The cycle of thoughts, feelings and behaviours From a Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) perspective, our thoughts, feelings and behaviours are closely connected. A situation might trigger a thought: “They're going to think I'm stupid.” That thought creates anxiety. The anxiety then leads to avoidance, such as cancelling plans, staying quiet in a meeting or avoiding making a phone call. Initially, avoidance can feel like a relief. “Thank goodness I don't have to do that.” But because the anxiety has reduced, our brain can learn that avoiding the situation was the safest option. The next time something similar happens, the urge to avoid may be even stronger. This creates a cycle: Situation → Thought → Feeling → Behaviour → Short-term relief → Pattern reinforced The important thing to notice is that the behaviour may actually be working in the short term. It reduces distress. The problem is that the relief doesn't last, and over time the behaviour can make the original problem bigger. What lies underneath the behaviour? Sometimes it can be helpful to look beyond the behaviour itself. Imagine someone saying: “I keep checking that my partner is okay with me. I know I'm asking for reassurance too much, but I can't seem to stop.” Rather than simply trying to stop the reassurance-seeking, we might become curious about what is happening underneath it. What are they afraid will happen if they don't check? Perhaps: “They might be angry with me.” Underneath that: “They might leave me.” And underneath that: “If someone leaves me, I'll be completely alone.” The behaviour starts to make more sense. The person isn't simply being “needy” or irrational. They may be trying to manage a much deeper fear of rejection, abandonment or not being enough. This is where attachment can be useful in helping us understand ourselves. The relationships we have experienced can shape the relationships we expect Our early relationships can influence the beliefs we develop about ourselves and other people. We may come to believe: “I have to be useful to be loved.” “My needs are less important than other people's.” “People will leave if I get too close.” “I can't rely on anyone.” “I have to get things right.” These beliefs don't necessarily sit at the front of our minds every day. Sometimes they operate quietly in the background, influencing how we respond to situations and relationships. This doesn't mean that our childhood determines our future. We are not destined to repeat our past. Understanding, however, where some of our patterns may have come from can help us approach ourselves with greater compassion and gives us the opportunity to make different choices. Sometimes different parts of us want different things One of the things I find particularly interesting about therapy is that we can sometimes discover that we are experiencing an internal conflict. One part of us may desperately want change. Another part may be frightened by what that change could mean. For example: “I know I want to leave this relationship, but I can't seem to do it.” Perhaps one part longs for freedom and independence, while another fears loneliness, financial insecurity or being unable to cope alone. Or: “I really want to put myself forward at work, but every time an opportunity comes along I find a reason not to.” One part wants recognition and growth, while another fears failure, embarrassment or being judged. From an integrative perspective, these conflicting experiences are worth exploring rather than simply trying to silence one of them. Sometimes what looks like self-sabotage is actually self-protection. The behaviour may be attempting to protect us from something we haven't fully understood yet. What about that critical voice in your head? For many people, another part of the pattern is an extremely critical inner voice. “You're useless.” “You always get things wrong.” “Everyone else is doing better than you.” “You should be able to cope with this.” We can become so accustomed to this voice that we don't question it. Transactional Analysis (TA) offers one way of thinking about the different internal messages we may have absorbed and the ways in which these can influence our adult lives. Instead of automatically accepting the critical voice as truth, we can begin to notice it. We can ask: Where did I learn to speak to myself like this? Is this voice helping me or hurting me? What would I say to someone I cared about if they were struggling in the same way? There is an important difference between taking responsibility for our behaviour and attacking ourselves as a person. “I made a mistake and need to understand what happened” is very different from “I'm a failure.” The first creates space for learning. The second creates shame. So how do we begin to change? Breaking an established pattern rarely happens simply because we tell ourselves to stop doing it. It often begins with curiosity. The next time you notice yourself doing something you know isn't helping, try pausing before judging yourself. Ask: What am I doing? What am I feeling immediately beforehand? What am I thinking? What am I afraid might happen if I don't do this? What does this behaviour give me in the short term? What does it cost me in the longer term? Does this remind me of anything I've experienced before? What need might be underneath the behaviour? Is there another, healthier way I could meet that need? You don't have to answer all of these questions at once. Even beginning to notice a pattern can create a small space between the feeling and the response. And within that space, something important can happen: choice. Understanding ourselves is not the same as excusing ourselves Understanding why we behave in particular ways doesn't mean that we have to accept behaviour that is harming us or others. It simply gives us a different starting point. Instead of: “Why am I doing this again? I should know better.” we might begin to ask: “Something is happening here. What is it, and what do I need?” This is often a much kinder and more productive question. Change doesn't necessarily begin with forcing ourselves to behave differently. Sometimes it begins with understanding the part of us that is afraid to change. Therapy can help us understand why we keep doing things we know are bad for us. In counselling, we can explore the patterns that keep repeating in our lives and relationships in a safe, non-judgemental environment. An integrative therapeutic approach allows us to look at experiences from different perspectives. We might explore the thoughts and behaviours that are maintaining a difficulty, the relationships and experiences that have shaped us, the emotions beneath our responses, and some of the less conscious patterns that may be influencing the choices we make. The aim isn't to tell you what you should do. It is to help you understand yourself more fully, so that you can begin to make choices that feel more aligned with who you are and what you want from your life. Perhaps the most important thing to remember is this: You don't have to blame yourself for a pattern in order to change it. Sometimes the behaviour that is causing us problems today began as a way of helping us cope yesterday. Once we understand what it has been trying to do for us, we can begin to find new ways of looking after ourselves. And that is often the place where real change begins.

Feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, or “not yourself”? These 5 DBT skills for autistic burnout can help you recover, reconnect with your needs, and prevent future burnout — without forcing yourself to “act neurotypical.” In this video, Dr. Kiki breaks down five powerful DBT skills specifically adapted for autistic burnout. Learn why self-validation is crucial when you’ve been told your needs are “too much,” how the PLEASES skill helps repair physical depletion, and how self-soothing and stimming can regulate an overstressed nervous system. You’ll also discover how accumulating positives supports joy and identity repair, and how DEAR assertiveness skills help you advocate for the sensory, social, and environmental accommodations you actually need. Autistic burnout isn’t depression, laziness, or a personal failure — it’s what happens when you’re forced to push through sensory overwhelm, constant masking, and unrealistic expectations. These DBT tools offer supportive, neurodiversity-affirming ways to rest, restore, and rebuild a life that works with your autistic brain, not against it. Chapters: 00:00 – What Autistic Burnout Really Is 00:30 – Overview: 5 DBT Skills for Burnout Recovery 00:50 – Skill #1: Self-Validation for Autistic Needs 02:00 – Skill #2: PLEASES for Physical & Sensory Care 03:40 – Skill #3: Self-Soothing & Stimming for Regulation 05:00 – Skill #4: Accumulating Positives & Special Interests 06:30 – Skill #5: DEAR to Advocate for Accommodations 08:30 – The Biggest Misconception About Autistic Burnout 09:00 – Why Typical Burnout Treatments Don’t Work 09:30 – Getting Neurodiversity-Affirming Support 10:00 – Final Thoughts + Next Steps Questions the Video Answers: What is autistic burnout and how is it different from depression? What DBT skills help with autistic burnout? How does self-validation support autistic mental health? What is the PLEASES skill and why is it important in burnout? How can sensory needs impact autistic burnout? Why is stimming important during burnout recovery? How do I use self-soothing in an autistic-affirming way? What should I do when I’m too burnt out to enjoy my special interests? How do special interests help heal autistic burnout? How does the DEAR skill help me advocate for accommodations? How can I explain my needs without disclosing my autism? Why does masking contribute to autistic burnout? Why don’t typical burnout treatments work for autistic people? How do I know if I need more rest, alone time, or sensory breaks?

Last Saturday night I had the privilege of visiting Ludshott Common with the National Trust on a Nightjar Guided Walk. It was a reminder that in an increasingly busy and technology-driven world, many of us spend less time outdoors than previous generations. Yet a growing body of research suggests that regular contact with nature can play a significant role in supporting psychological wellbeing. Spending time in nature has been associated with reduced stress, improved mood, better concentration, and greater overall life satisfaction. Research into our mental health and green spaces such as parks, woodlands, gardens, and coastal environments consistently finds positive links between exposure to nature and mental wellbeing. Systematic reviews have shown that people who have greater access to green space often report better mental health and lower levels of psychological distress. Two influential theories help explain why nature appears to be so beneficial. Psychologists Rachel and Stephen Kaplan developed Attention Restoration Theory, which proposes that natural environments allow our minds to recover from the mental fatigue created by sustained concentration and information overload. Unlike the demands of work, traffic, and screens, nature gently captures our attention, allowing cognitive resources to replenish. Another explanation comes from Stress Reduction Theory, developed by Roger Ulrich. This theory suggests that humans have evolved to respond positively to natural environments, which can reduce physiological markers of stress and promote feelings of calm and safety. Research indicates that time spent in nature may lower stress levels, improve mood, and support emotional regulation. The Japanese practice of Shinrin-yoku, often translated as “forest bathing,” has attracted considerable research interest. Studies suggest that spending mindful time among trees can reduce anxiety and improve psychological wellbeing, offering a simple but powerful antidote to the pressures of modern life. Well-known writers have long recognised nature's restorative qualities. Naturalist and philosopher Henry David Thoreau wrote extensively about the value of immersing oneself in the natural world, while contemporary nature writer Richard Louv has highlighted the psychological costs of becoming disconnected from nature. The encouraging message from the research is that nature does not have to involve remote wilderness or lengthy hikes. A walk in a local park, sitting beside a river, tending a garden, or simply noticing birdsong can provide meaningful psychological benefits. I learnt that Nightjars are rare and elusive birds but almost as soon as we ventured onto the common at just after 9pm, I could hear their distinctive call (check out the Merlin app for birdsong identification). Spotting them catching moths was more challenging as they are quick, buoyant and silent. In fading light, their erratic, ghostly movements can make them seem to appear and disappear against the darkening sky. It was a mindful moment, connecting with the Nightjar and not thinking about the stresses in my life. Even the briefest encounters with the natural world can help us feel calmer, more connected, and better able to cope with everyday demands. So, take a walk on the calm side...

One of the most common questions I am asked and have questioned myself is "who am I?" It is one of the hardest things in the universe to understand - the interior of our own minds: we may have spent years on this planet before we've grasped even very basic things about who we are and how we function. Even the Ancient Greeks felt philosophy had only one command: Know yourself! Latterly, James Baldwin too, stressed the importance of knowing thy self. So how can I get to know myself better? Let's start with The School of Life... Getting to know yourself is less about “finding a hidden true self” and more about noticing patterns: what energises you, what you avoid, how you relate to others, what you value, and how you behave under pressure. The process usually becomes clearer when you combine reflection with lived experience. A few approaches that tend to work well together: Observe yourself in real time Instead of only analysing yourself afterwards, notice yourself while things are happening. Pay attention to: situations where you feel most alive or most shut down recurring emotional reactions who you become around different people what you repeatedly complain about or long for what you envy in others (often revealing hidden desires or disowned qualities) A simple question helps: “What is happening in me right now?” Not just what you think - also body sensations, impulses, emotions, fantasies, tension, excitement. Journal for patterns, not performance Many people journal as if they’re writing a coherent story. It’s often more useful to capture fragments honestly. You could explore prompts like: What do I keep repeating in relationships? What am I trying to prove? When do I feel safest? What parts of myself do I hide? What kind of people trigger me, and why? What would I do if I didn’t need approval? Then reread after a few weeks and look for themes rather than individual entries. Notice your defences kindly We all protect ourselves psychologically. Sometimes self-knowledge grows fastest when you notice: humour used to avoid vulnerability intellectualising feelings over-helping perfectionism withdrawal people-pleasing control emotional numbing The question is not “What’s wrong with me?” but “What might this strategy once have protected me from?” Know yourself through relationships Other people are mirrors. Your relational patterns often reveal more than solitary introspection. Notice: who you pursue who you avoid what intimacy feels like to you how you respond to conflict whether you fear rejection, engulfment, abandonment, criticism, dependence, etc. Sometimes the self is discovered between people, not only within the individual. Try new experiences deliberately You don’t fully know yourself in theory. New environments expose hidden parts of you: creative work travelling alone group activities leadership roles silence retreats volunteering therapy groups learning difficult skills You may discover capacities or fears you couldn’t access through reflection alone. Explore your history without becoming trapped in it Your early experiences shaped expectations about: love safety power worth anger dependency Questions like: What roles did I play in my family? What emotions were acceptable? What did I learn I had to be to receive love? can uncover assumptions that still organise your life. Use structured tools carefully Some people find frameworks useful: attachment theory values exercises personality models therapy supervision mindfulness practices These can illuminate patterns, but they work best as maps - not identities. Spend time alone without distraction A lot of people know themselves only in reaction to stimulation. Periods without constant input - no scrolling, podcasts, texting, noise - often allow deeper thoughts and feelings to emerge. Even 20–30 minutes regularly can change what you notice internally. Try introducing a focusing practice: What is Focusing? - British Focusing Association Accept that self-knowledge can feel uncomfortable Sometimes getting to know yourself means discovering contradictions: you can be caring and controlling independent and needy confident and insecure loving and resentful Greater self-awareness usually increases complexity, not certainty.

When a client’s fear is anchored in real-world figures like Donald Trump, Benjamin Netanyahu, and Nigel Farage, it’s crucial to take any war anxiety seriously yet without reinforcing a sense of imminent catastrophe. This sits right at the intersection of realistic concern and anxiety amplification - a clinically rich space to work in. It's important to: 1. Learn to manage war anxiety without confirming inevitability Global instability can feel frightening, especially with high-profile, polarising leaders. Remind yourself: “It makes sense that when you see powerful people making big decisions, it can feel like things are out of control.” Yet there is a difference between possibility and probability. Try not to confuse the two. 2. Map the anxiety system Learn to manage any war anxiety by exploring: Mode 1 (client - world): What specifically triggers the fear? News? Social media? Certain narratives? Mode 2 (client - self): What meanings are being made? (e.g., “The world is unsafe,” “No one is in control”) Mode 3 (other - client): Do you look to others for reassurance, certainty, or shared alarm? This can reveal whether the fear is primarily existential, trauma-linked, or fuelled by cognitive distortions. 3. Work with uncertainty tolerance Fear of war is often fear of intolerance of uncertainty and lack of control. Gently explore: “How do you usually cope when you don’t know what will happen?” Anxiety is trying to create false certainty through worst-case scenarios. You might even externalise: “It sounds like a part of you is trying to prepare for the worst by constantly scanning for danger.” 4. Reality anchoring (without dismissing) Rather than debating geopolitics, focus on grounding: What is happening in your immediate world right now? Are you safe today? What evidence do you use to estimate risk? This avoids getting pulled into ideological discussions about specific leaders. 5. Media hygiene Are you often dysregulated by overexposure? Explore your media consumption patterns Experiment with boundaries (e.g., limiting news checks) This is not avoidance, but is nervous system care. 6. Explore symbolic meaning World war fears can sometimes carry deeper layers, such as: Fear of collapse (internal or relational) Early experiences of unpredictability or danger Authority figures perceived as unsafe or chaotic You might wonder: “When things feel this globally unsafe, does it connect to other times in your life where things felt out of control?” 7. Embodied regulation Because war anxiety is often visceral, try: Grounding (sensory awareness, orienting) Breath work Tracking activation in session with your therapist This helps shift from abstract catastrophic thinking into present - moment safety. 8. Relational containment Your therapist's or another's calm presence is key. If they stay regulated and non-alarmist while still listening carefully, you can learn: “Big fears can be held without becoming overwhelming” “We don’t need certainty to feel okay” 9. Finally, watch for reinforcement cycles Be mindful if: You seek repeated reassurance (“Do you think war will happen?”) You feel compelled to convince or debate with others including your therapist. That can become a subtle enactment worth exploring.

Some call it a “loneliness crisis” or a “friendship recession,” but in our age of endless scrolling and shrinking social circles, many of us have limited experience of making friends or forgotten how to make friends, particularly how to make friends as an adult. In this motivating and optimistic TEDx talk, friendship expert Sheridan Voysey discusses why forming friendships is such a significant challenge today and offers three straightforward actions that could spark a revolution in how we connect with others . Listen to find out more or read on for practical suggestions. So, how and where can I find friends? This is such an important question and often sits right at the intersection of attachment, shame, power, and lived relational history. When adults struggle to build friendships, it’s rarely about skills alone . It’s usually about: “How safe does connection feel in my body?” So the work is both external (behavioural) and internal (relational/emotional). What is the meaning of friendship? Think about: What did friendship mean growing up? Were peers safe / rejecting / competitive? Was belonging conditional? Were you “the outsider”, “the helper”, “the observer”? Often clients are trying to build friendships while carrying an unconscious belief such as: “People don’t really like me” “I’m too much” “I’ll be left” “I don’t know the rules” Without working through this, behavioural advice can feel like performance rather than connection. So we might explore: “What do you imagine would happen if someone really knew you?” Friendship is a developmental practice Many people feel shame that friendship isn’t “natural”. If this is the case, I may work on friendship as a developmental practice , not a personality trait. This is because some of us: Missed peer bonding due to bullying Had parentified roles Felt culturally “other” Learned intimacy = danger So we’re not behind - we’re beginning. Move from “finding friends” to “building familiarity” Friendship rarely begins with emotional depth. It often begins with repeated low-stakes contact. So, if we shift the goal from: ❌ Make a friend to ✅ Become a familiar face This reduces performance pressure. The 3 Conditions of Adult Friendship Formation Friendships form where there is: 1. Repetition - Seeing the same people regularly e.g.: Classes Volunteering Interest groups Local meet-ups Religious / spiritual spaces Sports Creative groups Friendship needs pattern , not intensity. 2. Shared focus - Connection is easier when attention is on something third : Book club Language class Walking group Board games Craft group Community gardening Dancing This reduces social performance anxiety. 3. Gradual mutual disclosure - we often wait for others to initiate.   Instead, micro-reveal , such as: “I’ve just moved here” “I’m trying to get better at meeting people” “I always feel nervous at new groups” This invites reciprocity without oversharing. Learn the “Ladder of Intimacy” Friendship builds in stages: Stage Behaviour Recognition Smile, nod Small talk Context-based chat Personal lite Weekend plans, interests Shared time Coffee / walk Personal real Feelings, history Sometimes people jump from Stage 2 to Stage 5 internally and feel rejected when the other person doesn’t match their depth or possibly rejects them. We need to tolerate pacing. Work with relational risk Making friends requires initiating without certainty. Try experiments like: Suggesting coffee Saying “It was good to talk” Sending a follow-up message Then process: What did it feel like? What meaning did you make? What old story got activated? The growth is in surviving the vulnerability not in immediate success. Here, a journal can be a good friend as you explore your inner world and can refer back too. Address power + belonging From a feminist lens, I often explore: Who has historically had to adapt? Who feels entitled to take up social space? How gender / race / class shaped relational confidence Some people aren’t shy - they’ve learned: “Don’t impose.” Friendship may require reclaiming relational entitlement. Encourage “activity-based” invitations Abstract intimacy is scary. Concrete is safer: “Want to join the next session?” “I’m going to that event next week” “Fancy walking after this?” Activity reduces emotional exposure. Grieve what wasn’t learned earlier Sometimes the deepest block isn’t fear, it’s grief. People may need space to feel: I didn’t get the easy friendships others had I missed teenage belonging I learned to be alone Friendship-building becomes possible after mourning this. Reframe success Success is not:❌ Having close friends quickly Success is: ✅ Showing up✅ Initiating✅ Staying despite awkwardness✅ Surviving non-reciprocity A simple therapeutic task you could do: The Familiarity Experiment  - This week: Attend one repeated space Speak to one person briefly Return next time Goal: be recognised, not liked. Good luck!

A boy cycles along a beach pathway as the sun sets, illuminating the sky with vibrant hues. In the background, a sailboat glides across the calm water, accompanied by an inspiring quote from Eleanor Roosevelt. The subject of self esteem comes up frequently in the therapy room. How do we really feel about ourselves? Can I advocate for myself? Or do I make myself small? Where does this come from? Self-esteem grows from our lived experiences of agency, competence, belonging, and being seen, or validation. 1. A shift from thinking about “self-esteem” to “self-worth + self-efficacy” can be helpful. With young people especially, “confidence” is often domain-specific and relationally mediated. I tend to think in three strands: Attachment-based worth  – “I am acceptable / lovable as I am.” Competence-based confidence  – “I can learn, try, and improve.” Agency-based identity  – “I have influence; my choices matter.” If one strand is weak, overall self-esteem tends to wobble. 2. I like to build esteem through experience , not affirmation Over-praising or cognitive reframing alone rarely builds durable confidence. It can even reinforce shame if your internal experience contradicts it. Instead: A. Micro-experiences of mastery Try tasks just beyond your current capacity or even just a part of a task and build up. Try to tolerate the discomfort of trying. Look at your effort, strategy, and persistence (growth orientation). Well done! Reward? Process mistakes as survivable. Confidence comes from doing hard things and surviving them. B. Try to integrate failure Many young people don’t lack ability - they lack a narrative that can tolerate failure without collapsing into identity shame. Remember: Separate behaviour from identity - you are not your behaviour! Map internalised critical voices (whose voice is that?). Externalise perfectionism or comparison. Exploring relational origins of “not good enough”. A feminist lens may be especially relevant here - many young people (particularly girls and marginalised identities) internalise culturally imposed standards as personal inadequacy. 3. Strengthen relational mirrors Self-esteem is co-constructed. We need others to help. Find those who: Offer accurate, specific reflections rather than generic reassurance. Name strengths you don’t yet own. Track moments of courage. Gently challenge distorted self-appraisals. Also outside the room: Explore who affirms you. Notice relational contexts where you shrink. Work with boundaries and peer dynamics. Confidence rarely grows in chronically shaming environments. Which groups are safe for you? 4. Increase agency Young people gain confidence when they experience: Making choices. Expressing preferences. Surviving disagreement. Influencing outcomes. Even small interventions matter. So I would: Let you choose session focus. Invite collaborative goal setting. Encourage experiments with behavioural risks between sessions. Agency directly counters helplessness. 5. We have to consider and work with the body Especially in socially anxious or shy young people, confidence is embodied. Consider: Somatic awareness of anxiety spikes. Practising regulated exposure. Power/grounding strategies. Voice work or role play. Sometimes “confidence” is nervous system regulation in disguise. 6. Address systemic and power narratives Low self-esteem is often rational in context. Ask: Who benefits from you feeling small? What cultural standards are you comparing yourself to? Where are you resisting oppressive expectations? Helping people locate distress in systems (not just self) can be profoundly empowering. 7. Encourage identity development Confidence stabilises when young people know: What they value. What they care about. What kind of person they want to be. Values-based work (ACT-informed) can be helpful: “Even if you feel anxious, what kind of friend do you want to be?” “What matters enough to be brave for?” Courage grows faster than confidence. 8. One very important thing is to be careful of rescuing If we over-support, over-reassure, or over-structure, we accidentally communicate: “You can’t handle this alone.” Allow manageable struggle. I will reflect your resilience. Hold steady if or when you wobble. A simple working formula: Self-esteem = Being seen accurately + Doing hard things + Surviving rupture + Having agency For an older people, “confidence” often isn’t about building something new, but reclaiming something that was historically constrained and the developmental context changes everything. With older people, self-esteem is often shaped by: Long-term relational roles (mother, partner, carer, professional supporter) Internalised gendered expectations Years of minimising needs Cultural invisibility around ageing Cumulative relational wounds So, the work tends to move from performance-based confidence  to existential worth and authority. 1. Move from competence to self-authorisation With young people: “Can I do this?” With older people: “Am I allowed to want this?” Confidence becomes less about mastery and more about permission. Therapeutic focus might include: Exploring where self-silencing began Noticing patterns of over-functioning Unpacking internalised “good woman”, "good man" scripts Identifying where desire has been subordinated Often the work is about loosening relational conditioning. 2. Address internalised patriarchal narratives directly. This can include cultural narratives too. Power dynamics - here it becomes explicit. Older women may carry beliefs like: “I shouldn’t take up space.” “It’s selfish to prioritise myself.” “I’m too old to change.” “My value is in caregiving.” These aren’t cognitive distortions in isolation - they are culturally reinforced survival strategies. Confidence work here includes: Deconstructing the origin of these beliefs. Validating the context in which they made sense. Supporting conscious re-choosing. Reclaiming voice is often deeply political as well as personal. 3. Grief work is often central For younger clients, self-esteem grows forward. For older people, it often grows through: Grieving missed opportunities. Grieving the body changing. Grieving roles that structured identity. Grieving not having been seen. Unprocessed grief can masquerade as low confidence. When grief is integrated, vitality can return. 4. Reconnect with desire and aliveness A powerful intervention: “If you didn’t have to be the responsible one, what would you want?” Desire is frequently underdeveloped after decades of responsibility. Confidence grows when a woman, for instance: Identifies what she wants. Speaks it aloud. Acts on it in small ways. Survives the relational fallout. This is often where rupture tolerance becomes central. 5. I will work with relational patterns in the here-and-now Older people, particularly women, may: Defer to me in session. Minimise achievements. Apologise frequently. Avoid anger. Gently naming these dynamics in the room can be transformational: “I notice you apologise when you take up space.” Confidence builds through relational re-patterning, not just insight. 6. Embodiment shifts meaning With older people, the body can become a site of: Shame (ageing) Betrayal (illness) Invisibility Body work may include: Reclaiming sensuality. Reclaiming strength. Compassionate witnessing of ageing. Challenging youth-centric narratives. This can be deeply empowering. 7. Identity beyond role Many older women have stable external lives but fragile internal identity. Questions that build esteem: Who are you when you’re not needed? What parts of you were postponed? What is emerging now? Later-life confidence can be expansive - it can be about authority, wisdom, boundary clarity, and unapologetic presence. 8. Another thing to be aware of is pathologising appropriate anger Sometimes what is framed as “low self-esteem” is actually: Suppressed anger. Unlived assertiveness. Exhaustion from over-adaptation. When we understand our anger and integrate it, confidence can grow. In essence: For young people: Confidence grows from trying and surviving. For older people: Confidence grows from reclaiming voice, desire, and authority. It is less about “becoming more” and more about “shedding what constrained.”

Did the generation growing up in the 1970s have it better than the generation growing up in the 00s? Big question - and a fun one to tease apart! Yes, there are the advantages  often associated with growing up in the 1970s, without turning it into a “ kids-these-days ” rant (because every generation gains and  loses things). 1. Freedom, autonomy, and embodied confidence growing up in the 1970s Many 1970s young people had a level of unsupervised freedom  that’s rare now: Roaming neighbourhoods, problem-solving in real time, negotiating conflict without adults intervening Learning risk, limits, and consequences in the body , not via rules or apps This often translated into: Higher tolerance for uncertainty and boredom Practical self-reliance (“figure it out” skills) A felt sense of agency rather than constant evaluation By contrast, many 2000s young people grew up under intensive supervision , safety culture, and performance monitoring - protective in some ways, but sometimes at the cost of confidence and spontaneity. 2. Fewer surveillance dynamics No smartphones, no social media, no permanent record: You could experiment with identity without it being archived Mistakes faded with time instead of becoming searchable Social life happened locally, not performatively Psychologically, that meant: Less self-objectification Less comparison culture More room for private fantasy and unconscious play Young people in the 2000s grew up inside a panopticon - peers, platforms, parents, and algorithms all watching, rating, and shaping behaviour. 3. A slower developmental tempo The 1970s offered: Fewer academic pressures in early childhood More unstructured time Later exposure to adult anxieties (economic collapse, climate dread, global catastrophe weren’t daily background noise yet) This supported: Imagination and symbolic play Emotional digestion rather than constant stimulation A clearer developmental boundary between child and adult worlds 2000s kids often matured faster cognitively but not always emotionally , absorbing adult-level information before having the psychic scaffolding to metabolise it. 4. Material expectations were lower (and clearer) The 1970s had plenty of economic stress, but: Housing, education, and employment still felt attainable  for many The social contract, while flawed and unequal, felt more legible Fewer “infinite choice” pressures around identity, careers, and lifestyles For today’s young people: Precarity is normalised Success criteria are contradictory and shifting The horizon can feel permanently foreclosed That has real effects on hope, ambition, and anxiety. 5. Collective culture over individualised branding 1970s youth culture emphasised: Shared music, TV, political movements, subcultures Being part of something  rather than curating a personal brand This fostered: Collective identity Political imagination A sense that change happened through groups, not just personal optimisation The 2000s tilt heavily toward individual responsibility for systemic problems , which can quietly internalise failure and fuel shame. A crucial caveat (especially from a feminist lens) These benefits were unevenly distributed : Many people, particularly women, lgbtqia+ communities, and people of colour - paid a high price for that “freedom” Silence around abuse, mental health, and power meant harm often went unspoken Some of today’s gains (language, visibility, consent culture) are real and hard-won So it’s not “the 1970s were better,” but rather: They offered certain developmental and psychological affordances that are now harder to come by.

Living Quietly in a Loud World: Why Ovid Still Matters Having recently attended a family funeral, it got me thinking about what is a good life? Can we live quietly and happily and it be a good life? Ovid, writing from the heart of the Roman Empire, offered a piece of advice that feels almost subversive today: live obscurely and quietly . In a culture that prized status, reputation, and proximity to power, Ovid suggested that a good life might be found not in visibility, but in withdrawal. Two thousand years later, in Western culture saturated by exposure, performance, and relentless self-promotion, his idea feels newly relevant. The Tyranny of Visibility Contemporary Western life is organised around being seen. Social media, professional branding, and productivity culture reward those who are vocal, visible, and constantly active. To exist quietly can feel like failure, or worse, irrelevance. We are encouraged to curate ourselves, to turn our lives into narratives that can be consumed and approved of by others. It has become an extrovert world! Yet this constant visibility comes at a cost. When our attention is always outward-facing, we become increasingly alienated from our inner lives. The pressure to be noticed fosters anxiety, comparison, and a fragile sense of self-worth dependent on external validation. Ovid’s suggestion pushes back against this: obscurity is not deprivation, but protection. Quiet as Psychological Freedom Living quietly offers a particular kind of freedom - freedom from performance. When we are not always being watched, measured, or evaluated, we can listen more closely to our own rhythms, desires, and limits. A quieter life allows space for reflection, creativity, and depth, rather than speed and surface. In psychological terms, obscurity reduces the dominance of the social gaze. It softens the internalised critic shaped by cultural expectations and allows a more relational, embodied self to emerge. This is not isolation, but selective engagement: choosing intimacy over audience. Resistance to Power and Extraction From a feminist and critical perspective, Ovid’s advice can also be read as quietly radical. Modern Western systems often extract value from people by turning their identities, labour, and even suffering into content. To live obscurely is to resist being endlessly mined for productivity, relevance, or profit. If you have watched The Social Dilemma (2020) on Netflix, you would have heard the line “If you’re not paying for the product, then you are the product”   stated by Tristan Harris, former Google employee. Choosing a quieter life challenges the idea that worth must be proven publicly. It refuses the demand - often placed most heavily on marginalised bodies - to justify existence through visibility, achievement, or explanation. Obscurity can thus become an ethical stance, a way of reclaiming autonomy. Depth Over Scale A quiet life does not mean a small life. It often means one oriented toward depth rather than scale: fewer connections, but more meaningful ones; less noise, but more resonance. In contrast to the cultural obsession with growth and expansion, Ovid’s vision values sufficiency. There is something deeply humane about this. Western culture frequently confuses more  with better , yet many people discover that wellbeing emerges from limits, not excess. Living quietly allows for attentiveness - to relationships, to place, to inner movement - that abundance of stimulation erodes. Reclaiming the Ordinary Finally, obscurity dignifies the ordinary. A culture obsessed with exceptionality tends to devalue everyday life, even though it is where most meaning actually unfolds. Ovid’s counsel invites us to recognise the richness of small, unremarkable moments: conversation, routine, solitude, rest. In choosing quietness, we do not opt out of life; we opt into it more fully, on human terms rather than cultural ones. A Quietly Good Life Ovid’s idea endures because it speaks to a perennial tension: the pull between outer recognition and inner coherence. Within our culture, living obscurely and quietly can be a way of protecting the soul from overexposure, resisting exploitative norms, and cultivating a life that feels lived rather than displayed. In a world that demands constant noise, choosing quiet is not retreat - it is discernment. Thank you Lorna, for inspiring this reflection and for showing me how a life lived quietly is rich in depth. For further reading: 1 . Classic Reflections on Nature & Solitude Pilgrim at Tinker Creek - Annie Dillard A lyrical exploration of nature, silence, and deep observation. Dillard’s prose models a quiet, contemplative life rooted in paying close attention to the natural world, akin to Thoreau’s Walden  in spirit. 2. Modern Meditations on Silence and Inner Stillness Aflame: Learning from Silence   - Pico Iyer (2025) Iyer reflects on retreating to a hermitage and the spiritual richness of quiet life, blending personal story with meditation on solitude. 3. Philosophical & Practical Guides to Simplicity The Longing for Less: Living with Minimalism   - Kyle Chayka Explores modern minimalism’s appeal and pitfalls, helping readers rethink consumption and life rhythms. Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals - Oliver Burkeman A philosophical take on our limited time and how slowing down can make our weeks more meaningful. 4. Slow Living, Minimalism & Mindful Habits In Praise of Slowness - Carl Honoré   A foundational look at why slowing down can make life richer. Slow: Simple Living for a Frantic World   - Brooke McAlary Practical and warm guidance on slowing life’s pace. How to Do Nothing - Jenny Odell A critical and inspiring argument for rejecting the productivity addiction and reclaiming focus, place, and creativity. The Little Book of Hygge - Meik Wiking   Explores coziness and intentional simplicity as emotional nourishment. 5. Fiction & Slice-of-Life Inspirations Even novels can teach quiet living by immersing you in gentle rhythms and internal worlds rather than external drama: Hannah Coulter - Wendell Berry (quiet rural life, community and presence) The Summer Book - Tove Jansson (peaceful summers and simplicity) A Psalm for the Wild-Built - Becky Chambers (fictional encounter with simplicity and inner questions) 6. Other Interesting Picks (Roots & Culture) If you want something that bridges quieter living with deeper cultural or philosophical roots: The Book of Tea   - Okakura Kakuzō An essay linking simple aesthetic life with deeper cultural meaning. The Need for Roots - Simone Weil Not about “quiet living” in the obvious sense, but a profound meditation on rootedness, meaning, and community - which many find grounding in an uprooted, fast world. 🌿 Tips for Choosing What to Read If you want philosophy, not advice:  Try Iyer, Burkeman, or Weil. If you want spirituality and presence:  Honoré, McAlary, Wiking, Sunim. If you want fiction with stillness:  Berry or Jansson. If you want cultural lenses on simplicity:  Kakuzō’s essay.

Connection and intimacy is both a tender and crucial part of a relationship and the question shows you’re already taking a thoughtful step toward rebuilding. Restoring intimacy and connection often means nurturing emotional safety, curiosity and shared presence again. Here are some ways to approach it, depending on where the disconnection lies: 🌿 1. Connection begins with gentle honesty Start by naming the distance, not in blame but in longing. You might say something like: “ I miss feeling close to you. I’d like us to find our way back to that connection. ” This opens a doorway rather than a defence. It signals care and vulnerability, which are prerequisites for intimacy. 💬 2. Restore emotional attunement Intimacy begins with being seen and felt . Try: Daily emotional check-ins : short moments where you share how you’re really  doing, beyond logistics. Reflective listening : mirror back what you hear before responding (“ It sounds like you’ve been feeling unseen lately - did I get that right? ”). Curiosity over correction : replace “ You’re overreacting ” with “ Tell me more about what that feels like .” Seek to understand. 💞 3. Rebuild physical and sensual intimacy gradually If physical closeness has faded: Start with non-sexual touch  (holding hands, a hug, brushing a shoulder). Make every kiss last at least 6 seconds. Slow down - let eye contact, breath, and gentle presence reawaken comfort. When it feels right, explore touch as communication rather than performance. 🧠 4. Reconnect through shared meaning Couples often drift when they stop co-creating purpose. Ask each other: “ What do we want to work on together at the moment ?” “ How do we want our relationship to feel - not just function ?” Shared goals or rituals (a Sunday walk, a shared meal without screens, a creative project) can rebuild emotional glue. 🪞 5. Reflect on the cycle, not the symptom Disconnection usually follows a pattern : one partner withdraws, the other protests, and both feel unseen. Can you map your cycle together? For example: “ When I feel you pull away, I chase for reassurance - which makes you retreat more .” Seeing the cycle makes it you two against the pattern , not you against each other . 🕯️ 6. Rebuild safety Connection can’t thrive where either partner feels criticised or dismissed. Small repairs matter: Acknowledge hurt without justification. Talk back to back to avoid tension. Apologise for missed attunements. Offer reassurance: “ I’m still here and I want to keep working on this .” 💫 7. Reimagine intimacy beyond romance Intimacy can also mean: Shared laughter Look each other in the eye and hold for 3 - 4 seconds. Dreaming together about the future Honest vulnerability about fears, desires, or regrets When both partners feel emotionally met, physical and romantic closeness are more likely to follow naturally. According to Esther Perel, the quality of your relationships shapes the quality of your life. It is your choice whether to try any of these exercises – sadly, many won't, due to pride or maybe a belief it isn't them but their partner, and that's perfectly fine. Investing your time in your relationships is invaluable, and you can view these tips as small investments. You don't need to do them all; just try one or two and see how it sits with you. Good luck!

A self-help booklist can be very helpful when working through challenges such as depression, anxiety, trauma, or relationship difficulties. The titles below offer practical tools, personal stories, and compassionate insights to support your journey toward healing and self-understanding. Many of these I have read or have been recommended to me by other therapists. Let me know what you think. 💭 Understanding and Lifting Depression Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy - David D. Burns. A classic cognitive-behavioural guide with practical exercises for shifting negative thought patterns. The Mindful Way Through Depression - Mark Williams, John Teasdale, Zindel Segal & Jon Kabat-Zinn. Combines mindfulness and self-compassion to break the cycle of low mood. Lost Connections   - Johann Hari. Explores social, emotional, and environmental causes of depression and paths to reconnection. Reasons to Stay Alive - Matt Haig. A heartfelt, hopeful memoir about recovery from depression. Overcoming Depression - Paul Gilbert. Straightforward guide to understanding and challenging depression. 😰 Managing Anxiety and Panic The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook - Edmund J. Bourne. A comprehensive, step-by-step guide for understanding and managing anxiety. The Anxiety Toolkit - Alice Boyes. Simple CBT-based tools for everyday anxious thinking. When Panic Attacks - David D. Burns. A practical guide for tackling panic and worry using evidence-based strategies. How to Be Yourself: Quiet Your Inner Critic and Rise Above Social Anxiety - Ellen Hendriksen. Reassuring advice for anyone struggling with shyness or social anxiety. The Feeling Good Handbook - David Burns . Another good book from David Burns offering practical exercises. Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway - Susan Jeffers . Straightforward text encouraging us to gently face our fears. Overcoming Anxiety - Helen Kennerley . 💔 Healing from Trauma and Emotional Pain The Body Keeps the Score - Bessel van der Kolk. Explores how trauma affects the mind and body — and how healing can occur through body-based therapies. Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma - Peter Levine. Introduces gentle techniques to release stored trauma energy. What Happened to You? - Bruce Perry & Oprah Winfrey. A compassionate conversation about trauma, resilience, and understanding ourselves. It Didn’t Start With You - Mark Wolynn. Explores how family patterns and inherited trauma can shape emotional well-being. The Primal Wound - Nancy Verrier . Ground-breaking text exploring the impact of adoption from an attachment perspective. The Myth of Normal - Gabor Mate. Understanding the impact of emotional pain. 🌿 Addiction, Recovery and Self-Compassion In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts - Gabor Maté. Understanding the roots of addiction and pathways to healing. Unbroken Brain - Maia Szalavitz. Challenges the “disease model” of addiction with empathy and research. Clean: The New Science of Addiction and Recovery - David Sheff. An overview of what recovery can look like. 💞 Relationships, Boundaries, and Emotional Growth Attached - Amir Levine & Rachel Heller. Understanding your attachment style and how it affects relationships. Why Love Matters - Sue Gerhardt . Why loving relationships are essential to brain development. Set Boundaries, Find Peace - Nedra Glover Tawwab. A practical guide to creating healthier relationships. The Gifts of Imperfection - Brené Brown. Encourages courage, vulnerability, and self-acceptance. Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents - Lindsay C. Gibson. Exploring difficult family dynamics. Getting The Love You Want - Harville Hendrix . Practical exercises to improve your relationship. Love’s Executioner - Irvin Yalom . Clients' and Yalom exploring love. The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work - John Gottman . How to improve your long-term relationship. The 5 Love Languages - Gary Chapman . What is your way of expressing and receiving love? 🧘‍♀️ Mindfulness, Compassion and Everyday Well-Being Wherever You Go, There You Are - J on Kabat-Zinn. A simple introduction to mindfulness practice. Radical Acceptance - Tara Brach. Teaches how to meet pain and imperfection with compassion. Self-Compassion: The Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself - Kristin Neff. A practical guide to treating yourself with the same care you offer others. The Happiness Trap - Russ Harris. ACT-based techniques for accepting emotions and living a meaningful life. When Things Fall Apart - Pema Chödrön. Gentle Buddhist wisdom on facing difficulty with openness and courage. ☁️Bereavement You’ll Get Over it – the Rage of Bereavement - Virginia Ironside . Grief can be very different for each of us. Grief Works - Julia Samuels . Super book describing clients' experiences of processing their grief. 🧠 Personal Growth and Meaning Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life - James Hollis . Exploring the impact of aging. Man’s Search for Meaning - Viktor E. Frankl. A profound reflection on finding purpose through suffering and choice. The Road Less Travelled - M. Scott Peck. Combines psychology and spirituality to explore personal growth and discipline. The Gifts of Therapy - Irvin D. Yalom. Insightful stories about change and the human condition from a master psychotherapist. Games People Play - Eric Berne. Exploring our interactions and behaviours in relationships. 🪆Other Useful Self Help Books: BPD/EUPD: I Hate You – Don’t Leave Me - Jerold Kreisman & Hal Straus   Co-dependency: Codependent No More - Melody Beattie   Domestic Abuse / Violence: Living With The Dominator - Pat Craven   Eating Disorders: Anorexia and Other Eating Disorders - Eva Musby   EMDR: Tapping In - Laurel Parnell   Inner Child: Homecoming- Reclaiming and Championing your Inner Child - John Bradshaw   IFS: No Bad Parts - Richard Schwartz   Introversion: Quiet - Susan Cain   Mortality: Staring at the Sun - Irvin Yalom   Parenting: The Book You Wished Your Parents Had Read - Phillippa Perry   Self-Esteem: Overcoming Low Self-Esteem - Melanie Fennel   Sex / Sexuality: Mind the Gap - Karen Gurney Rewriting the Rule s - Meg John Barker   Sexual Abuse: New Shoes - Rebecca Mitchell   Sleep: Why We Sleep - Matthew Walker   Vulnerability: Daring Greatly - Brene Brown 🌱 A Final Self-Help Booklist Note A self-help booklist can be a powerful source of insight and comfort, but it’s not a substitute for therapy. If you find any of these books bring up strong emotions, you might want to discuss them with your therapist or someone you trust. If you have read a book not on the list and found it useful, let me know! Always happy to add new books particularly recommendations.