Self-devaluation

In my practice, I rarely hear clients say, 'I devalue myself'. Instead, self-devaluation shows up in quiet, automatic habits; the subtle ways we minimise our worth before anyone else gets the chance to.

Unconscious self-devaluation isn't about blatant self-hatred. It is a set of learned defensive behaviours designed to keep us safe from rejection, failure, or criticism. The catch? The price of that 'safety' is living a life far smaller than the one you deserve.

The Subtle Ways We Devalue Ourselves

Reflexive Minimisation: When someone compliments your work and you immediately reply, 'Oh, it was nothing, anyone could have done it', or 'I just got lucky'. You disown your skill to avoid appearing arrogant.

Chronic Over-Apologising: Saying 'I'm sorry' before asking a basic question, entering a room, or expressing a simple preference. It communicates a subconscious belief that your presence is an inconvenience.

Compulsive People-Pleasing: Saying yes to commitments when your nervous system is screaming no. Prioritising everyone else's comfort over your own emotional boundaries teaches your brain that your needs matter less.

Pre-Emptive Self-Deprecating Humour: Mocking your own abilities or appearance before someone else can point out a flaw. While it feels like armour, it functions as a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Tolerating Warm-Water Relationships: Staying in friendships, romantic partnerships, or workplaces where you feel barely tolerated or continually overlooked, operating under the assumption that this is all you can expect.

The Cumulative Impact on Your Life

When you practice these habits daily, your inner world adapts to match them:

Low Self-Efficacy: You stop trusting your capacity to navigate challenging goals, mistaking self-protection for a lack of capability.

Chronic Resentment: Pouring out energy for others while ignoring your own needs builds quiet, bitter resentment toward the people around you.

Imposter Syndrome: By attributing your achievements to luck while internalising every mistake, you reinforce the feeling of being a fraud.

Relational Imbalances: People treat us based on the baseline standard we demonstrate. When you treat your time and feelings as disposable, others tend to follow your lead.

Reclaiming Your Internal Value

The first step isn't forcing positive affirmations in the mirror; it’s awareness without judgement.

Catch yourself the next time you dismiss a compliment or apologise for taking up space. Pause, take a breath, and reframe the response. Replace 'Sorry to bother you' with 'Thank you for your time'. Replace 'Oh, it was nothing' with 'Thank you, I put a lot of work into that'.

Self-worth isn't something you have to earn or construct from scratch; it is what remains when you stop actively minimising yourself.

Betrayal Trauma

The moment you discover a deep betrayal, whether it’s infidelity or hidden financial deceit by someone you trusted implicitly, the world as you knew it instantly shatters.

I see people in the immediate aftermath of this realisation. They aren't just sad or angry; they are completely disoriented. If you are going through this right now, I want to start by validating something crucial: what you are feeling is not a personal failure, nor is it 'overreacting'. It is a specific, profound psychological injury known as Betrayal Trauma.

What Is Betrayal Trauma?

Coined by psychologist Dr. Jennifer Freyd, betrayal trauma occurs when the people or institutions we rely on for survival, safety, or emotional attachment violate our trust.

When a stranger lies to you, it’s frustrating. When a partner, parent, or close confidant lies, it’s destabilising. This is because your brain builds its internal map of safety around key relationships. When those very people become the source of harm, your nervous system experiences a severe paradox: the person you would normally run to for comfort is the source of your threat.

How Betrayal Trauma Shows Up in Your Body and Mind

Betrayal trauma often mimics the symptoms of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). If you recognise any of the following experiences, know that these are normal reactions to an abnormal situation:

Nervous System Hyperarousal: You might feel constantly on edge, scanning for signs of more lies, or struggling with intense insomnia and panic attacks.

Intrusive Thoughts and Flashbacks: Mental images, unexpected triggers (a song, a location, a text tone), or sudden realisations can pull you right back into the moment of discovery.

Cognitive Dissonance: You may struggle to reconcile the person you loved with the person who betrayed you. Holding these two conflicting realities at once is exhausting.

Profound Self-Doubt: Betrayal makes you question your own judgement. You might find yourself asking, 'How did I not see this?' or 'Was any of our history real?'

Emotional Volatility: Swinging rapidly between intense anger, deep sorrow, numbness, and longing is completely expected.

Why 'Moving On' Is Harder Than People Think

Well-meaning friends might tell you to 'just leave', 'let it go', or 'move on'. However, healing from betrayal trauma isn't like recovering from a standard breakup.

Betrayal steals your sense of reality. When you learn that significant parts of your shared history were built on hidden truths, your memory retroactively changes. Your brain has to work in overdrive to process the past while managing the present, which takes an enormous toll on your mental and physical energy.

Steps Toward Healing

While the road to recovery isn't linear, gentle and intentional steps can help you begin to rebuild your foundation:

Stop Blaming Your Intuition: You trusted someone because healthy human connection requires trust. Being lied to is a reflection of their choices, not your intelligence or worth.

Focus on Physical Safety First: Prioritise the basics; eating nourishing meals, drinking water, and getting rest. Your nervous system needs physical signals of safety.

Establish Clear Boundaries: Whether you choose to reconcile or separate, boundaries are essential. You have the right to request space, information, or temporary distance to protect your emotional well-being.

Find Specialised Support: Work with a trauma-informed therapist who understands betrayal trauma. Traditional couples therapy or generalised advice can sometimes cause more harm if the therapist does not understand the nuances of acute relational trauma.

Anchor Yourself in Reality: Keep a journal or talk to a trusted friend who can serve as an emotional anchor when you feel disoriented or begin to doubt your own perception.

Healing from betrayal trauma is not about forcing yourself to trust again right away, it's about slowly rebuilding trust in yourself. You survived the shock of discovery, and step by step, you can reconstruct a life built on truth, clarity, and safety.

Disenfranchised Grief

Of all the secret burdens people carry into therapy, one of the heaviest is a type of sorrow that doesn't have a name in everyday conversation.

In psychology, we call it 'disenfranchised grief'.

This grief is a loss that is not openly acknowledged, socially sanctioned, or publicly mourned. It’s the grief that society tells you you have no right to feel. When you experience a 'accepted' loss, like the death of a parent or a spouse, society knows exactly what to do. People bring food, send flowers, and give you grace at work.

When your grief falls outside the unwritten rules of society, you are left to mourn in the dark.

The Three Ways Grief Gets 'Disenfranchised'

I usually see disenfranchised grief fall into three distinct categories. Recognising which one you are experiencing is often the first step toward healing.

1. The Relationship is Not Recognised

Society recognises a strict hierarchy of relationships (spouses, children, parents, siblings). If your connection doesn't fit a neat box, your grief is often dismissed.

The ex-spouse: Even if you’ve been divorced for ten years, the death of an ex-partner can bring up a tidal wave of complicated sorrow, residual love, and lost futures. Yet, people might ask, 'Why are you so upset? You weren't together.'

The secret or stigmatised relationship: Extramarital affairs, hidden LGBTQ+ relationships in unsupportive environments, or casual partnerships that meant more to you than anyone knew.

The online friend: In our digital age, deep bonds are formed across miles. Losing a gaming buddy or a long-term internet confidant can feel like losing a limb, but colleagues might look at you blankly if you ask for time off to mourn them.

2. The Loss is Dismissed as 'Not Significant'

Sometimes people acknowledge who or what you lost, but they minimise the impact.

The death of a pet: To many, a dog or cat is a companion, a constant anchor, and a source of unconditional love. When they die, being told 'It was just an animal' or 'You can get another one' is a profound minimisation of your loss.

Non-death losses: The loss of a job, a chronic illness diagnosis, infertility, or a breakup. These are ambiguous losses where the person or circumstance is physically gone or charged, but there is no funeral to mark the transition.

3. The Circumstances of the Death Carry Stigma

When a loss is surrounded by perceived shame or judgement, the mourner is often denied the comfort of community.

Loss by suicide: Families often feel they must hide the cause of death out of fear of judgement, leaving them isolated when they need support the most.

The loss of an abuser: Mourning someone who harmed you is incredibly conflicting. You might grieve the relationship you wished you had, while feeling relief that they are gone, leading to intense internal conflict.

Why This Hurts So Much: The Double Burden

When your grief is disenfranchised, you suffer twice. First, you suffer the primary pain of the loss itself. Second, you suffer the exhausting cognitive load of policing your own emotions. When society isn’t validating your pain, you start to gaslight yourself. You ask: 'Why am I crying over this? Do I even have a right to be this sad?'

This lack of social support can turn normal grief into complicated grief, where the mourning process becomes completely stalled, leaving you trapped in the pain for much longer than usual.

If you are carrying a hidden sorrow right now, please hear this: The validity of your grief is determined by the depth of your attachment, not by the consensus of society.

Here is how we begin to heal this in therapy:

Name the loss: Give yourself permission to say out loud, 'I am grieving, and this hurts.' Stop minimising it with phrases like 'It shouldn't matter this much.'

Create your own ritual: If you can’t have a traditional funeral, create your own closure. Light a candle, write a letter to the person or pet and safely burn it, plant something, or dedicate a specific journal to your thoughts.

Find your safe people: You don't need to explain your grief to the world. You just need one or two people; a trusted friend, a support group, or a therapist who will look at you, see your pain, and say, 'I get it. That is a massive loss.'

Your pain does not need permission. Let yourself mourn.

Anticipatory Grief: Mourning the Living

If you are currently watching a loved one decline, whether they are navigating a terminal illness, slipping into the fog of dementia, or simply aging past the point of who they once were, you might be carrying a quiet, heavy secret.

You are already grieving them.

I regularly sit with clients who are carrying this exact weight. Often, they come to therapy feeling deeply confused or ridden with guilt. They say things like, 'They’re still here, so why do I feel like I’ve already lost them? Am I giving up on them?'

If you have asked yourself these questions, I want you to take a deep breath. What you are experiencing is not a personal failure or a betrayal of your loved one. It is a deeply natural, profoundly human process called anticipatory grief.

What is Anticipatory Grief?

Simply put, anticipatory grief is the emotional response that occurs when we are consciously aware of an impending, inevitable loss. While conventional grief looks backward, trying to process a loss that has already occurred, anticipatory grief looks forward. It is the mind’s way of trying to prepare the heart for what is to come.

Unlike post-death grief, which usually has a definitive starting point, anticipatory grief exists in a limbo state. You are constantly balancing the need to stay present and care for your loved one with the anxiety of their inevitable absence.

One of the most challenging aspects of anticipatory grief is the emotional whiplash.

On Monday, you might feel a wave of intense sadness as you watch your loved one struggle to remember a simple word. On Tuesday, you might feel a flash of irritability or anger at the sheer exhaustion of caregiving. On Wednesday, you might find yourself thinking, 'I wish this would just end, for both of our sakes' followed immediately by a crushing wave of guilt.

Wishing for the end of a long, painful decline is not a sign that you don't love them. It is a sign that you don't want your loved one to suffer, and exhausted from suffering alongside them. Both love and a desire for relief can comfortably exist in the heart at the exact same time.

How to Navigate This Limbo State

As therapists, we don't try to cure or stop anticipatory grief because it is a healthy, adaptive response. Instead, we try to help you hold it so it doesn't crush you. Here are three ways to navigate this terrain:

1. Embrace the 'Both/And'

Grief often tricks us into thinking we have to choose a side. We think we must either act with positivity or succumb to despair.

In therapy, we work on holding both realities: 'I am heartbroken that our time is short, and I am going to hold their hand and enjoy this quiet cup of tea with them today'.

2. Practice 'Dosing' Your Grief

You cannot sit in the raw, intense pain of loss 24 hours a day without experiencing emotional burnout. It is incredibly healthy to 'dose' your grief. Give yourself permission to feel the sadness deeply when it washes over you, and also give yourself explicit permission to go watch a film, laugh with a friend, or get lost in a hobby. Stepping away from the grief isn't forgetting them; it's refuelling your battery.

3. Lean into 'Legacy Work' and Meaning-Making

If your loved one is still able to communicate, use this time to ask questions, record their stories, or simply express things that have gone unsaid. If they are no longer communicative, meaning-making can look like playing their favourite music, looking through old photos, or quietly sharing a physical space of comfort. This turns a period of painful waiting into a period of intentional connection.

A Final Thought

Grief does not begin the moment a heart stops beating. It begins the moment our hearts recognise that love and loss are intertwined.

If you are grieving someone who is still here, please be gentle with yourself.

High Functioning Anxiety

If you looked at your life on paper, you’d probably say you’re doing fine. You meet your deadlines, remember birthdays, pay the bills on time, and text people back. To the outside world, you are the definition of 'together'.

However, when the lights go out and the house is quiet, the narrative changes. Your chest feels tight. Your mind races through a mental list of everything you didn't do perfectly today and everything that could go wrong tomorrow.

Though it is not an official DSM-5 diagnosis, it usually falls under Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD), it is a profoundly real human experience. It describes people who experience intense, internal anxiety but manage to channel that nervous energy into achievement, organisation, and perfectionism.

It is one of the most exhausting states of being because it hides in plain sight and requires active management to prevent burnout.

The trickiest part of high-functioning anxiety is that society rewards it.

When anxiety drives you to over-prepare for a presentation, you get a promotion. When anxiety makes it impossible for you to say 'no' because you fear letting people down, you get labelled as dependable and selfless. Your coping mechanisms; perfectionism, over-working, and people-pleasing are praised by bosses, partners, and friends. However, there is a massive difference between functioning and thriving.

Your nervous system is trapped in a constant state of fight-or-flight. You aren't driven by passion or joy; you are driven by the dread of what will happen if you drop a single ball. You become hypervigilant, constantly scanning your environment for potential failures.

Because high-functioning anxiety doesn't look like a classic panic attack, it can be hard to recognise. Here is what it actually feels like from the inside:

The Inability to Rest: When you finally sit down to watch a film or read a book, a voice whispers that you should be doing something productive. True relaxation feels lazy or unsafe.

Procrastination Followed by Panic: You delay a task because the pressure to do it perfectly is paralysing. Then, you complete it in a sleepless, adrenaline-fuelled frenzy.

Control as Comfort: You become rigidly attached to routines, lists, and specific ways of doing things. If plans change unexpectedly, it feels like a personal crisis.

Physical Echoes: Anxiety always speaks through the body. It looks like a perpetually clenched jaw, tight shoulders, digestive issues, or waking up at 3am with a racing pulse.

If you are waiting for a collapse to justify getting help, please stop waiting. You do not need to hit rock bottom to deserve relief. The fact that you are functioning does not mean you are not suffering.

How to Lighten the Load: 

Healing from high-functioning anxiety isn't about erasing your drive or becoming a different person. It’s about teaching your nervous system that it is safe to slow down. Here are three clinical strategies to start shifting the weight:

1. Differentiate 'Urgent' from 'Anxious'

When you have high-functioning anxiety, everything feels like an emergency. When a new task lands on your plate, ask yourself: 'Is this objectively urgent, or is my anxiety just telling me that if I don't do it right now, I am failing?' Start practicing the art of the intentional delay. Let an email sit for an hour. Leave the dishes overnight. Prove to your brain that the world doesn't end when you pause.

2. Practice 'Good Enough' Exposure

Perfectionism is a shield used to protect against criticism. To break its grip, you have to practice leaning into imperfection on purpose. Send an email with a minor typo. Cook a meal that turns out just okay. Show up to a casual gathering without doing your hair perfectly. By exposing yourself to minor imperfections, you teach your brain that you can survive being imperfect.

3. Schedule 'Zero-Output' Time

Block out one or two hours a week where you are barred from being productive. You cannot clean, you cannot organise, you cannot learn a new skill. You can only do things for the sheer, unproductive joy of them; or do absolutely nothing at all.

Moving Forward

High functioning anxiety is lonely because everyone assumes you have it all under control. You don't have to carry it perfectly, and you don't have to carry it alone.

The next time someone compliments how much you get done, take a breath and remind yourself: Your worth is not measured by your productivity, and you are allowed to just exist.