In this blog, I’m talking about psychotherapy. Over the past few years, I’ve also explored more body-oriented forms of healing, but that deserves a seperate blog.
In my view, a lot has changed over the past years when it comes to therapy and mental health support. There is more openness, easier accessibility, and greater visibility. Social media is full of coaches and people who “know best.” And yet, finding the right help can still be surprisingly complicated.
I have had different experiences and I have been reflecting on them recently. So the question remains: is therapy help, hype, or something else?
Learning to hide
As a child, there were some teachers who occasionally asked questions because they were concerned about me. But I knew exactly what to say to avoid standing out. I was very good at giving the “right” answers and acting as if everything was fine and then no further action was taken.
In reality, I was dealing with performance anxiety, intense blushing, an eating disorder, a hospital admission due to severe constipation, and a period in which I barely dared to speak. Despite all of that, I never received help. I simply struggled through it.
Looking back, that ability to adapt became both my survival strategy and my blind spot. Maybe you recognize this, being the one who copes, adjusts, and says the right things, while something inside you quietly struggles. I am genuinely glad that nowadays more support is available for children at a younger age.
When I moved out to study at university, everything that had been suppressed became harder to manage. I felt completely tangled up inside myself. I didn’t know how to express emotions, how to set boundaries, or how to position myself in this new life. My eating disorder was still present, and because that felt concrete and measurable, I decided to seek help from a psychologist.
Cognitive therapy and antidepressants
We started with cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). I was asked about my childhood and my current situation. It was extremely difficult for me to connect with myself, and a big part of me still preferred to downplay everything. Alongside CBT, I was offered creative therapy and sessions with someone specialized in somatic work. At the time, it all felt vague and almost like hocus pocus.
After only a few months, the psychologist told me she didn’t know how to help me further. Her solution was to prescribe antidepressants.
I remember sitting there with the prescription in my hand, staring at my name printed on it, feeling both small and strangely unseen. As if everything I had tried to explain had been reduced to a chemical imbalance on paper.
Despite my strong tendency to adapt and comply, I didn’t go along with that advice. I felt resistance in my whole body, mixed with disappointment. How could this be the long-term solution? I never went back.
To this day, I’m surprised at how easily antidepressants can be prescribed, as if they are a simple fix. Especially to people who are actively seeking help and willing to work on themselves. I know I wasn’t an easy case, but I was looking for help, not medicine. I understand that medication can be a temporary solution in certain situations. But in my view, it should be approached very carefully and consciously. Not as an automatic next step when therapy feels complex.
That experience shaped me more than I realized at the time.
A different kind of support
After that, I continued searching and found an experiential expert who hosted sharing circles and offered one-on-one sessions. For years, she was my anchor.
What I appreciated most about her approach was that we barely focused on food. Instead, we worked on everything underneath it. I made some progress during that time. At the same time, I was still far away from myself in many ways.
Eventually, the sharing circles became overwhelming. The amount of input, stimulation, and discussion started to drain me. It took a long time before I could admit that this didn’t feel good for me. First, I stopped attending the group sessions. Later, I ended the one-on-one appointments as well.
To this day, I am deeply grateful that I met this lady. For a while, she felt like a mother figure to me. I think the feeling of support she gave me made the biggest difference.
After we said goodbye, I moved on with my life. My issues with food were largely under control, although it always remained a sensitive topic.
“Is this it?”
At 27, I remember thinking, Is this it? A typical midlife crisis question, just a bit earlier than usual.
I decided to see a life coach. Her approach focused on reconnecting with myself through meditation, walking sessions, and a beautifully designed workbook. We started each session with a body scan. I still remember saying, “I don’t feel anything.” I was completely disconnected from my body.
I enjoyed the walks and being outside. Somewhere, I felt a small spark of a different kind of life. Maybe something more connected to sports, health, and wellbeing? But instead of following that spark, I chose to focus on building my career.
I ended the coaching trajectory and stepped into corporate life. Working in Amsterdam and flying across Europe as a consultant, I thought I was finally living the “real” life.
You may have read in my other blog how that turned out.
Coaching within corporate
After running into the same walls at work several times, I started working with a wellbeing coach. She had left the corporate world herself and now supported people who were still in it. I always looked forward to our sessions. She inspired me because she had done what I secretly wanted to do, she had stepped out.
Her coaching was pragmatic and grounded. She understood the struggles. Deep down, I knew my career path was not sustainable in the way I was living it, but I kept telling myself I needed to push through.
Because this coach was arranged through my employer, she also witnessed my process of leaving corporate. I still remember joining a Zoom call and saying, “It’s finally happening. I’m going to free myself!” Sharing that moment and feeling supported felt celebratory.
Therapy through the system
What followed was a difficult situation at work that deeply affected me, it was the last straw. During that period, I was assigned a psychologist by the company I was working for.
The intake lasted two hours, followed by an extensive questionnaire. At the next appointment, the results were discussed, and I noticed that the psychologist looked more at the numbers on the screen than at me. I didn’t feel seen, literally. I was there with my story, my confusion, my exhaustion, and the focus was on percentages and scores.
I knew immediately that this approach wasn’t going to work for me. I asked for someone with a different style. Over the years, it had become easier for me to stand up for myself in situations like this.
The next psychologist had a more traditional approach. We talked. She used beautiful metaphors that I carefully wrote down. The sessions were pleasant, but they remained at the surface. Again, something essential was missing.
The pattern
At the same time, I knew I wanted a different life because continuing this way was no longer possible. I just didn’t know how to shape it. So I searched again, this time for a holistic coach who could help me work through trauma and limiting beliefs from a broader perspective.
The sessions were valuable, but after paying a significant amount for just three appointments, something shifted.
I realized I was looking for someone who could help me, again. I placed more trust in them than in myself. Wasn’t I the one who knew best what I needed? Wasn’t it time to finally listen inward instead of searching outward? That was the real question and I knew the answer.
I have never read as many books as I did during that period. I learned about attachment styles, generational trauma, observing thoughts, creating awareness, meditation, self-love, the relationship between mind and body, the human being as the creator of life, the influence of thoughts on reality, manifestation, and much much more.
And slowly, things started to shift.
So… help, hype or something else?
Therapy helped me. There’s no doubt about that. It gave me language. It gave me perspective. It gave me moments of feeling seen and supported. It showed me patterns I could not see on my own.
But I also experienced the hype. The endless supply of experts. The subtle message in my mind that someone else always knows better. The temptation to hand over responsibility for your life to the next professional with a framework. For a long time, I was looking for someone to guide me out.
What I didn’t realize was that every therapist, every coach, every book was simply pointing me back to the same place: myself. Therapy was never the final answer. It was a mirror. Sometimes a helpful one, sometimes a frustrating one. But always a reflection.
Today, I still believe in learning from others.
I still believe in asking for help when needed.
I still believe in being coachable.
But I no longer outsource my authority.
Therapy can be help.
It can be hype.
At its best, it becomes something else: a path back to yourself.