Category: Therapy Stuff

This Be The Verse
by Philip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.

The foundations of your attachment style begin even before you are born. The stability, stress, happiness, and safety of your parents, especially your mother or primary carer, can influence your attachment style and how you navigate the world. It’s important to recognise these factors without judgment or shame. Most parents do their best with what they have.

The renowned English paediatrician and psychiatrist Donald Winnicott coined the term “good enough mother” [read: significant caregiver(s)]. He argued that none of us is perfect and that striving for perfection would be harmful to a child’s development!

In a caring, responsive relationship, letting a child fall, make mistakes, and act out also allows them to try again, see the consequences of their actions, and address irritations and differences. Rupture is healthy if it is followed by repair and understanding.

From birth to age two, your brain learns whether the world is safe through the experiences you encounter. The brain’s primary role is to make sense of the world to keep you safe. That’s why formative experiences are so crucial. Secure attachment develops when a child’s needs for warmth, care, and understanding are met. The brain records these experiences and stores them as data points.

It is logical to assume that a child’s focus from birth through toddlerhood is whether the people in their world are aware of and responsive to their basic needs for care and comfort. When I am hungry, does food appear? Am I soothed and changed when I’m wet? Is the attention consistent or unpredictable? How we expect others to treat us, and the beliefs that stem from that, form the blueprint for the nervous system.

Between the ages of two and seven, the child begins to learn how to manage itself within its unique family “eco-system”. They don’t consciously question their experiences; they simply accept them as the truth of their world. This is where we start to adapt our behaviour to fit in and be accepted. In a child’s mind, acceptance equals love; therefore, to be accepted, they may have no choice but to adapt to their environment.

This is why a child who is mistreated or abused will still cling to the person who hurts them. They have no other point of reference. Recognising that the person who cares for you might also be the one who hurts you is too overwhelming for a child to understand, so they cling to what they know. In a less risky home, the adaptations might be different. Perhaps you had to ‘earn’ a parent’s love, receiving appreciation only when perceived as being “useful”, or you might have learned to stay quiet, keep the peace, or try to manage the emotions of the adults around you.

If the environment is difficult and a child doesn’t feel accepted or loved for who they are, they may begin to adapt to survive. These adaptive behaviours can include people-pleasing, perfectionism, emotional avoidance, and shutting down.
These beliefs also affect how we interpret others’ behaviours, often reinforcing patterns we have developed.

From seven to early adolescence, the child begins to explore their identity and core beliefs about themselves and the world. How should you behave in relationships with others? What examples do I have? Is love safe? Do people care or listen to how I feel? Can I express myself authentically, or do I need to change to be accepted? These beliefs turn into patterns of behaviour that carry into adulthood and manifest in the workplace, family life, and even within oneself.

These adaptations were wise and, in some cases, vital for survival in childhood, but in adulthood, they can appear as people-pleasing, a sense of responsibility for others, overworking, difficulty relaxing, or constant rumination about the past or future. What started as a childhood survival tactic often evolves into a lifelong pattern of self-denial, abandonment, rejection, and misunderstanding.

The good news is that, thanks to neuroplasticity and great therapists (!), our attachment styles and future relationships are not fixed. We can adapt and change by exploring and reflecting on where unhelpful patterns originate, and by working to modify them.

We can’t change the past, but we can revise the blueprint, make new choices, and build relationships based on safety.

Why is the story of the hero archetype so popular across cultures worldwide? What does it whisper to us as humans?

The Hero’s Journey provides a robust framework for understanding the therapeutic process because it addresses core human experiences. It affirms that struggle is part of growth, reinterprets setbacks as essential trials, and recognises the bravery in vulnerability. For therapist and client alike, this narrative offers a way to make sense of the unpredictable landscape of healing. It shifts the idea of therapy from a linear process to an epic journey, one that honours every step and both the pain and the triumphs.

In his book The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell, the mythologist, explores the psychological development of the Hero archetype across cultures and throughout history. From the earliest stories of the Greek gods of Olympus, the Hero’s journey is a tale of challenge, self-discovery and transformation. It encompasses the essence of what it is to be human and the struggle and messiness of our experience of life. Campbell described the journey in stages: The Call to Adventure, Crossing the Threshold, Trials, Helpers, Abyss, Transformation, and the Return. Each stage mirrors the personal struggles and triumphs we encounter in the pursuit of wholeness.
These stages reflect the therapeutic journey, too.

In psychology, an archetype is a set pattern of behaviour. The hero archetype represents overcoming obstacles to achieve specific goals. It is a metaphor for a psychological journey to return to one’s true feelings and unique potential—what the psychologist Carl Jung called individuation, becoming a unique whole.

Jung wrote in Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
“The hero’s main feat is to overcome the monster of darkness: it is the long-hoped-for and expected triumph of consciousness over the unconscious.” (Jung, 1959, para. 284)

The decision to seek therapy is in itself heroic. Therapy often begins with a sense of dissatisfaction, a sense of heaviness, or a longing for change. A feeling that we can do better or be better. A whisper that something isn’t right, a wake-up call that keeps coming back at you until you answer its call. This is the Call to Adventure.

Crossing the Threshold is the moment of commitment. Just as the hero heeds the call, so too does the therapy client, taking their first steps into the unknown. It requires courage to admit vulnerability and confront what was previously avoided or denied. Often people step into authorship of their lives only after growing tired of feeling powerless within them.

Every epic quest involves resistance—both external and internal. Fears and doubts test the resolve of the would-be hero. In therapy, this might manifest as anxiety or defensiveness, a reluctance to revisit painful memories, or scepticism about the process itself. But the Hero rarely travels alone; allies and mentors appear, offering guidance, wisdom, and encouragement. The therapist becomes a compassionate witness, holding a lantern aloft to illuminate paths previously obscured by shadow. The Hero client is not passive on the journey. A therapist aims to help the Hero develop autonomy and resilience. They encourage their “fellow traveller”, as Irvin Yalom described the therapeutic relationship between client and therapist in his book The Gift of Therapy, to draw on internal and external resources and allies beyond the therapeutic space to help fortify the Hero for what is to come.

The challenge in life and therapy is to confront old wounds, deep-seated beliefs, and patterns that sustain suffering. It asks the hero to face what is most feared and to confront their resistance, discomfort, and grief.

The therapist becomes the secure base, or anchor, for the client to explore their shadows and the pain that may have long been buried. Each moment of vulnerability, each insight, serves as a rite of passage and another step on the Hero’s journey. The therapeutic space is both a sanctuary and a battleground, where transformation is forged not in comfort, but by bravely facing the difficult.

Of course, every heroic journey involves a dark night of the soul. In therapy, this may be a crisis point, a breakthrough that feels like a breakdown, or a reckoning with deep-seated trauma or existential despair. Here, the old self is surrendered, illusions dissolve, and the possibility of renewal emerges. This is the point at which the hero may feel most lost and most vulnerable, yet it is here that transformation begins. The therapist offers a steady presence and unwavering belief in the client’s capacity to weather the storm.

Fear often feels like a dragon, monster, or beast we must defeat. But in truth, it is a mirror, reflecting parts of ourselves. Overcoming fear doesn’t come from battling it, but from softening toward it—stopping the fight within. This shift requires humility, which often arises when we recognise our own limitations. From this place of surrender, a different Self can emerge. Insights surface, old wounds begin to heal, and the scattered parts of our consciousness start to come together. Transformation doesn’t happen in one sudden moment of revelation — it unfolds gradually, through a merging of understanding, acceptance, and action.

The goal of therapy is to help clients begin to rewrite their story, seeing themselves not as victims of circumstance but as protagonists in their own stories. The hero’s identity is reshaped and instilled with newfound wisdom and strength. It is to acknowledge that love is what we are born with, and fear is what we learn. The hero has crossed the threshold, met his own dark side, and faced the metaphorical abyss. Courage is not about eliminating fear but learning to move forward despite it.

But the journey does not end with transformation. When the hero returns from the journey, having transformed himself, he is no longer a “hero”; he returns to his old life as himself, but transformed through insight and growth.

In therapy, this means integrating new perspectives, skills, and insights into our daily lives. Setbacks, moments of doubt, and encounters with old patterns are inevitable, yet there remains a belief that change is both possible and sustainable.
Like the Hero’s Journey, therapy isn’t a straight path. Every ending signifies a new beginning; each return calls us to another adventure. It encourages us to honour our struggles, celebrate our growth, and keep striving for wholeness.

Within each of the clients I see lies a hero—sometimes unsure, often brave, always capable of change. The therapist, as witness and guide, helps light the way, but it is the client who walks it. In recognising the hero within, we start together on the most profound journey there is: the path towards healing, meaning, and self-discovery.