"I had a good childhood / my life is good - so why do I feel so bad?"

One of the things that comes up pretty often during introductory calls or first sessions is this: "I had a good childhood - so why do I feel so bad?" Or: "I have a good life, I'm lucky, other people have it worse - isn't therapy self-indulgent?"

My first response is that, unfortunately, there is enough space in the world for all kinds of suffering. Just because someone has experienced a flood somewhere, anxiety can still rob you of all joy; there's room for both, and it's not a competition.

My second is that I see sorting our issues out as a responsibility, not an indulgence. It's a bit like the oxygen mask on the plane: you need to put yours on before you can sort anyone else's. If you're less anxious, reactive, sad or angry, this will benefit you (and that's my priority); it will also have a ripple effect on the people you encounter or live with. In taking this step, you're acting on something that is negatively affecting your life.

The question of childhood is a bit more complex.

Two seemingly contradictory things can be true at the same time

In therapy, we’re often treading a fine line between recognising that parents/carers may have done their best, while also recognising that some things still weren't helpful or were missing, and that these may be affecting you now.

To be clear, your therapist is not there to do a hit job on your significant others or apportion blame. Knowing that our childhood had an impact on us doesn't mean we have to throw it all in the emotional bin. We're not dismissing the good. But it is important to understand what we call "the presenting past": how is the past playing out now? How is it affecting you?

It's often about what didn't happen - what was missing

People often assume that something bad must have happened to cause distress. But a repeated experience of something being missing can leave a legacy. For example, if your parents or carers responded inconsistently to your needs, this can leave you feeling unsure in the world and anxious. The impact of that - sometimes I'll get what I need, sometimes I won't - can show up as anxiety, a sense of uncertainty in relationships, or a low-level feeling that you can't quite trust that things will be okay.

How difficult experiences were handled matters. If a child is bullied at school and the adults in their life struggled to respond adequately, that child may grow into an adult who feels unsafe, or has low self-esteem.

An anxious parent, however well-meaning, can affect your baseline levels of anxiety and model behaviour which you find yourself repeating in adulthood. Similarly, if a parent consistently found it hard to engage emotionally, that has an impact too: on how you relate to others, how you feel about yourself, and whether you ever learned that your emotional needs were worth voicing.

These things echo down the years. They show up in our relationships, in how we see ourselves, and in the patterns we find ourselves repeating, without quite knowing why.

Sometimes there is more obvious trauma

For some people, the picture is more stark. There may have been abuse, addiction, volatility, fear, or neglect. Repeated experiences like these can shape how safe you feel, how you relate, and how you see yourself.

You can empathise with your parents and still see the impact

Often there are understandable reasons why parents struggled: stressful times, their own difficult experiences, circumstances beyond their control. If this is the case, we can fully acknowledge how difficult things were for them, and recognise the bind they were in, while also acknowledging the impact on you.

It isn't always about childhood

You might have had a genuinely happy childhood and still be struggling now. Perhaps you experienced a single traumatic event: a car accident, an assault, a sudden loss. Or you've been through sustained bullying at work, or repeated experiences of discrimination in a situation you couldn't easily leave. These kinds of experiences can cast a long shadow, and show up as flashbacks, strong reactions, anxiety or low mood.

Sometimes it's a combination: a decent start with a few fracture lines, and then something that knocked you sideways later. 

How therapy can help

Whatever comes up in therapy sessions, the key, I think, is curiosity. My favourite TV detective is Columbo: inquisitive, persistent, looking for underlying explanations (yes, I do own the entire box set). The starting point for the work is looking gently at your experiences, including your childhood. We are curious together: you're the expert on you, and I bring training and experience that can help.

Once we have a clear sense of the timeline and the origin story, so to speak, we can decide what the best approach is: whether that's psychoeducation, practical changes in your life, EMDR to process difficult experiences that are leaving a mark, or somewhere in between.

Therapy isn't about blame. It isn't about raking over the past for the sake of it. If you had a good childhood and still feel bad, that doesn't make you ungrateful or self-indulgent. If you have a good life now, that doesn't mean things have always been good. The task now is to face whatever it is and find a way forward that works better for you. 

If you'd like to explore working together, please do get in touch. I work online and am currently taking enquiries for my waitlist. Or sign up for my newsletter for monthly tools, tips and insights.