There was once a psychologist in my life who, in fact, contributed to the destruction of my sense of self and, as a result, a significant part of my life. She tried to preserve my marriage to a person who, as I understand today, felt a deep aversion toward me. At the same time, she was relying on her own experience of a broken marriage and on her own unprocessed wounds.
In this way, the unhealed wounds of professionals can deeply affect their clients. This is especially true for clients who were taught from childhood to be obedient, good, proper girls, to follow the rules, respect their elders, live according to conscience and honor.
In my story, this extended far beyond one psychologist. I listened to my mother, who had also gone through divorce and gave me advice about what kind of man to choose and how to build a relationship. Naturally, much of that advice was shaped by the lens of her own experience, pain, and ideas about what a proper life should look like.
As a result, until I was forty, I lived largely by listening to older women who themselves had ended up in destructive relationships with unsuitable men. I accepted their experience as universal truth. Gradually, I pushed my own needs, desires, feelings, and inner knowing into the background.
Today, I see many very different psychologists and professionals around me. Professional culture itself is changing. Specialists have more space for personal therapy, supervision, professional reflection, and continuous development. Society as a whole is changing too. Psychological awareness is growing, and with it comes a greater capacity to ask much deeper questions about our lives.
For me, it gradually became clear that human life unfolds through our own potential, individuality, inner center, and ability to hear ourselves. We can explore our relationships, patterns, wounds, desires, and deepest nature, gradually reclaiming the right to be the author of our own lives.
This has become my mission in my work today.
Everything else is a form.
Methods, tools, psychological games, typologies, systems, and practices help a person explore themselves from different perspectives. Yet the person always remains at the center, together with their consciousness, inner voice, and ability to create a life that truly corresponds to their own nature.
Returning to your own center
This is my mission: to help people return to their own center.
Not to someone else's experience. Not to someone else's idea of what a correct life should be. Not to a rule that asks us to abandon ourselves in order to remain good, loyal, or acceptable.
To the place within us where our own truth can gradually become audible again.