I disagreed with my therapist and it didn't ruin anything

I thought I was afraid of disagreement... but the real problem was believing I had to agree in order to belong.

“I need to be vulnerable, and I think I’m okay but I don’t know what’s going to happen, or if it’s going to make any sense.”

That was how I started my morning check-in at outpatient therapy.

My voice cracked as I said it, and I could feel myself glancing this way and that… which is probably why like four women all passed me the Kleenex all at the same time…

I’d been thinking about this for two days, and I knew I had to speak up, but I was really terrified I would upset her, and she’d be disappointed in me for not choosing the “growth” answer.

But I just had to say something!

I couldn’t keep it bottled up anymore…

So I took a slow, deep breath, made eye contact with my therapist, and said,

“Two days ago at the end of group, you suggested to me that ‘intentional’ might be a good choice for my word of the month; that I might benefit from being more intentional with the words I use with other people.”

Her eyes lit up, and I think she was expecting me to say I’ve chosen that word and thank you for her advice — but that is not what came out of my mouth next.

“I want to choose that word,” I said, “because I think if I do, it’ll make you happy… and I respect you and I want to make you happy.”

“But I’m not ready to be intentional yet, and if I did choose that word, I would be going against my own integrity…”

At this point, I started crying, and I broke eye contact with her and went back to scanning the room for the nearest exit.

I felt like I was floating in my chair, somehow — like there was no longer any floor beneath my feet — and I felt like I wanted to throw up. And the tears were rolling…

And I started to feel very childish, and not in a good way.

I felt afraid.

I felt weak, and exposed, and like any one of the members in IOP that morning could’ve easily reached out and eviscerated me, and it would’ve been more agreeable than continuing on with my monologue.

But I knew what I was truly afraid of, and I had to get it out.

I couldn’t keep pacifying every person who might have the capacity to judge me… to reject me… to abandon me because I didn’t agree with their opinion of how I should behave…

Even now, as I write those words, my stomach is churning.

I feel ashamed of how weak and malleable I am.

I should be able to stand my ground and to tell somebody, “I disagree.”

It shouldn’t matter if they’re my therapist, or my brother, or a friend on the Internet, or someone I’ve known for 30 years but just always agreed with because it’s safer to keep the peace.

I should be able to say, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

It shouldn’t be this difficult.

I had lost sleep over my therapist recommending the word “intentional,” and me leaving therapy that same day and realizing that wasn’t the right word for me, at this time.

And I understand why she made that recommendation! As I’ve become more comfortable in group, I’ve leaned more into my “weird” side, making occasional, random comments that are only intended to make everyone laugh or to get a reaction.

I’m not saying anything inappropriate, or harmful; I just get a kick out of saying things that are completely off the wall and have the potential to momentarily derail the conversation, and defuse the tension.

And something I’m just recently becoming aware of: nine times out of ten I just say stupid stuff that has no bearing on anything. And maybe, the group would be better served without my running commentary, when it is just me saying stupid things.

But the tenth time — somehow, when I’m in that mindset where I just don’t care what comes out of my mouth… one time out of ten, what comes out is actually very revealing… I actually end up inadvertently spilling my own secrets, sharing my weaknesses and insecurities, exposing my vulnerabilities…

And when they come out freely, and naturally, all of a sudden I have to take them seriously and understand what is driving the fear that makes me want to keep it all to myself.

And somewhere in that investigation, I tend to have my biggest breakthroughs.

And I don’t want to give up all the stupid stuff I say, if doing so means I also miss out on the occasional really important stuff that I’m never expecting, but always ready to examine once it’s out in the open.

So I’m not ready to be intentional, until I know that if I am, I’ll still have some way of letting the cat out of the bag on a somewhat regular basis.

Which, I kinda wanted to tell my therapist all that… but in the moment, I felt like the biggest issue wasn’t, “I don’t want to make this change and lose this secret ability I have to accidentally incriminate myself.”

The real issue was, “I don’t want to keep feeling like I can’t disagree with people I respect, or they’ll reject me, and abandon me, and I’ll lose the connection.”

Which, ironically, I don’t want that secret to ever come out… and now not only did I tell her and everyone else in IOP last week… I’ve also shared it now, with all of you.

So I don’t really know how I feel about that… hahaha…

But something that I really value is connection. And for me, part of that means the connection needs to be real. It needs to be honest, and authentic.

And if I’m disagreeing with somebody, on the inside, and going along with their suggestions, on the outside…

I can’t live like that anymore. I don’t like the person I become, when I don’t honor my own integrity.

So there’s a couple things going on here, that I’m aware of:

• I need authentic connection

• I want to make other people happy

• I value my own integrity and honesty

• I’m afraid to tell people when I disagree

• I value relationships probably more than anything in this life

• I haven’t had healthy relationships with anybody in decades

And I respect my therapist’s advice because I know she’s not just giving us textbook answers; she’s coming from a place of earned wisdom… of lived experience.

And I don’t want to admit it but as my therapist, I want her to validate my recovery. Which I don’t think is an “unhealthy” want, in this context. But I feel like “I shouldn’t depend on anybody else to tell me I’m doing it right.” But I mean, if anybody was gonna tell me I’m doing it right… it makes sense I’d want that person to be my therapist.

But the fear of disagreeing runs deeper than that.

It’s not just, “my therapist will think I made the wrong choice.”

It’s, “the whole room will think I purposely made the wrong choice, for the wrong reasons, and they’ll all disown me and I won’t belong anymore.”

And that theme has been running in my brain since probably seventh grade.

So when I caught myself worrying about all these things after my therapist said, “You might benefit from choosing to be more intentional,” I knew it was time to break the pattern. (Which ironically, is probably the most ‘intentional’ choice I could’ve made… but shhh I’m still talking…)

I let out a sob as I continued my check-in:

“I have a history,” I told her, “of doing what I think everyone else wants me to do… and I really do want you to be happy with me… but for my own benefit I can’t choose ‘intentionality’ at this time. I know I’m not ready to commit to that, and if I did, it would be for all the wrong reasons.”

And I think she understood, but not completely, because her first response was along the lines of, “Michael, I am happy with any choice you make, because I know you’re making it for yourself…”

Which was wonderful to hear.

But not quite getting to the real heart of the matter.

I pushed back, “I believe that you are, and I appreciate that. And I truly respect your advice and opinion; I just can’t allow myself to take on someone else’s point of view just for the sake of agreeing with them or pacifying them.”

And then I cried a bit more and said something like, “I’m just so afraid if I go against what you say, that I’ll be rejected.”

And she was like, “Who are you afraid will reject you?”

And my eyes scanned the room and I felt the blood drain out of my face and I said, “Everybody…”

And I didn’t feel ashamed, anymore, because at least I’d gotten it out now… but boy did I feel embarrassed, knowing I’d just shared all of that with the entire group! I was sure at least one group member would condemn me, or criticize me, for not being a strong manly man, but instead being afraid to just tell another person, “I disagree.”

I wanted to melt into my chair and stay invisible for the rest of the morning… and forget the look of compassion on everyone’s face as I cried my heart out…

It felt good to get all that off my chest, but I did not like feeling that level of vulnerable, in that small of a setting… it felt safe, sure — but it didn’t feel natural.

Maria (not her real name) looked me in the eye and said, “Nobody in this room is rejecting you. You’re one of us.”

To which my therapist added, “Nothing you can say in here is going to change the fact that we’re here for you and for each other. And we’re going to keep being here, no matter which version of you shows up every day.”

And I wanted to bawl my eyes out because it’s been so long since I’ve heard anything like that! But strangely, once I heard that, and I allowed myself to feel the sincerity in those words…

I was okay.

Not perfect.

Not “finished.” (Because I’m still crying again, now, as I relate the tale.)

Not “alright, I’ve slayed that dragon, now I’m never gonna be uncomfortable again!”

Just… okay.

But in that moment, “okay” was all I needed, to calm myself and to regulate my emotions, and get my head back into IOP and not come completely unglued and have to go scream outside for ten minutes, or be admitted to inpatient, or hide in the bathroom and finish crying…

I was done crying; I’d done what needed to be done; I’d received their feedback; and now it was time to move on and remain engaged in real time.

And I did.

And I must say — I’m pretty proud of myself for being able to regulate my emotions that quickly, and stay present in the group, and participate, and not be so helplessly overwhelmed that I couldn’t control my emotions at all.

That was a big step forward for me. I honestly feel like that might be bigger than me finding the courage to tell my therapist, “I need to disagree with you on this because I’m afraid to disagree with people, and I need to show myself that I can do and it doesn’t ruin the relationship.”

So I guess I earned two gold stars that morning:

One for telling the truth, when I was terrified that the truth would sever the therapeutic connection.

And one for staying in the moment, and learning that I don’t have to let myself always get overwhelmed by my own emotions.

And maybe a third one, for having the insight to tell my therapist, when we broke for lunch, “I need to make sure you know that had nothing to do with anything you said, but was strictly about me recognizing a pattern in my behavior that I want to change.”

And I’m not a mind reader… but I’m pretty sure when I said that to her… it did make her happy for me, for real.