Maybe There Was Never Anything Wrong With You…
One of the saddest things I hear in my therapy room isn’t,
“I binge eat.”
It isn’t,
“I’m anxious.”
It isn’t,
“I can’t stop people-pleasing.”
It’s this.
“I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Sometimes those words are spoken out loud.
More often, they’re quietly carried around for years.
They show up in the way someone apologises for crying.
In the way they dismiss their own feelings.
In the way they describe themselves as “too much”, “too sensitive”, “too emotional”, “lazy”, “weak” or “a burden.”
Somewhere along the way, they reached a heartbreaking conclusion.
“It must be me.”
And I understand why.
Because when you’ve spent years feeling different, criticised, unseen, misunderstood or responsible for everyone else’s happiness, it’s easy to believe you’re the problem.
Most of us aren’t taught to ask,
“What happened to me?”
We’re taught to ask,
“What’s wrong with me?”
Those two questions lead us down very different paths.
We don’t wake up one morning believing we’re broken.
It’s something we learn.
Perhaps you learned that being “good” kept the peace.
Perhaps being quiet meant you didn’t get shouted at.
Perhaps achieving became the way you earned praise.
Perhaps saying yes felt safer than risking someone being disappointed in you.
Perhaps food became the one place where you could find comfort when life felt overwhelming.
None of these things happen because you’re weak.
They happen because your mind and body are incredibly good at helping you survive.
The problem is that the strategies which once protected us don’t always help us later in life.
What once kept us safe can eventually leave us feeling trapped.
Shame rarely introduces itself as shame.
Very few people come to therapy saying,
“I’m carrying a lot of shame.”
Instead, shame wears disguises.
Sometimes it looks like perfectionism.
“If I can just get everything right, maybe I’ll finally be enough.”
Sometimes it becomes people-pleasing.
“If everyone else is happy, maybe I’ll be accepted.”
Sometimes it’s the relentless inner critic that never allows you to rest.
Sometimes it becomes anxiety, constantly scanning for what might go wrong.
Sometimes it shows up through binge eating, emotional eating or feeling completely out of control around food.
Sometimes it whispers,
“Everyone else seems to manage life better than I do.”
On the surface, these difficulties can look very different.
But underneath, they often carry the same painful belief.
“There must be something wrong with me.”
What if we asked a different question?
Instead of asking,
“What’s wrong with you?”
I wonder,
“What happened to you?”
And perhaps even more importantly,
“What did you have to do to survive?”
That small shift changes everything.
Because suddenly, we’re no longer looking at someone who’s broken.
We’re looking at someone whose mind and body adapted in the best way they knew how.
That doesn’t mean your coping strategies aren’t causing pain today.
It simply means they deserve understanding before judgement.
Understanding isn’t the same as excusing.
Sometimes people worry that if they understand themselves with compassion, they’ll stop changing.
I’ve actually found the opposite to be true.
Shame rarely creates lasting change.
Understanding often does.
When we stop fighting ourselves long enough to become curious, something begins to soften.
Instead of asking,
“Why am I like this?”
We begin asking,
“What was this part of me trying to protect?”
That question opens the door to healing.
You were never meant to carry this alone.
One of the greatest privileges of my work is watching people slowly change the way they see themselves.
Not because their past disappears.
Not because life suddenly becomes easy.
But because they stop believing they are fundamentally flawed.
They begin recognising that what they’ve been calling “weakness” was often survival.
That what they’ve been calling “failure” was someone doing their very best with what they had.
And from that place, something new becomes possible.
Self-compassion.
Hope.
Choice.
Maybe…
Maybe your anxiety isn’t evidence that you’re broken.
Maybe your people-pleasing once kept relationships safe.
Maybe your perfectionism developed because mistakes didn’t feel safe.
Maybe food became comfort when comfort was missing elsewhere.
Maybe your inner critic believed it was protecting you from rejection.
Maybe…
There was never anything wrong with you.
Maybe there was simply someone who learned to survive.
And perhaps that’s where healing begins.
If you’ve recognised yourself in these words, I hope you’ll take one thing away.
You don’t have to earn compassion by getting everything right first.
You don’t have to become a different person before you’re worthy of understanding.
You deserve that understanding now.
Because perhaps the question was never,
“What’s wrong with me?”
Perhaps it has always been,
“What happened to me… and how can I begin to meet myself with compassion?”
Therapy isn’t about having all the answers before you begin.
Sometimes it’s simply about having a space where your story can be heard with curiosity, compassion and without judgement.
If you’d like to explore working together, I’d be delighted to hear from you.
Julie x
Contact me:- Julie McClorey Counselling
