We get hurt by people, and we get healed by people
I go to therapy every week. As a practitioner, it is one of my most important tools for keeping well. It is where my thoughts and feelings are challenged, and where my nervous system keeps learning what a healthy relationship feels like.
I am a true believer that although we get hurt by people, we also get healed by people. That is the power of the therapeutic relationship. It is a corrective relationship: your feelings are validated, your thoughts are gently challenged, and over time the patterns that once protected you can be changed.
This week, therapy reminded me just how deep some of those patterns run, and how much power and control can shape the way we see ourselves.
An old pattern, coming straight back up
I hadn’t been to therapy for a couple of weeks. When I went back today, my counsellor and I reflected on where we had left things before moving on to what I was bringing.
She offered me a recap of a curiosity from a few sessions earlier. Was I deflecting by talking about other things? Was I protecting myself by not looking at something, by giving my attention to everything else instead?
I paused. I wanted to take a minute before answering and really sit with what I had heard. And what I heard was an old pattern, rising straight up:
If I can find the fault in me, I can fix it. If I can find that I am the problem, then I can do something to change it.
I recognised it immediately. And this time I was able to say, no. I don’t believe that to be true. I don’t believe that I am the problem in everything.
That pattern didn’t come from nowhere. It is one that grows when you have experienced power and control across many different systems. When you can’t change what is being done to you, taking the blame can feel like the only form of control you have left. It is not about what’s wrong with you, but what happened to you.
The slow boil: how power and control really works
Power and control seeks to stop your own autonomous expression. It seeks for you to comply. It wants you to do what another person wishes, without your thoughts or needs being considered.
And if it stays long enough, it chips away at your self-worth. It plants self-doubt. It teaches learned helplessness, the belief that nothing you do will make a difference.
I often share the frog analogy with my clients. If a frog jumped into a pot of boiling water, it would leap straight out to save itself. But that is not how power and control works.
It is far more insidious than that. It is like a dripping tap. If a frog sits in cold water and the heat is turned up slowly underneath, it doesn’t notice the water warming. Bit by bit, it stays, until it is sitting in boiling water, because it was all done so subtly.
This is why so many people struggle to name what is happening to them. There was never one moment that announced itself. There was a slow change in temperature, and a slow change in how they saw themselves.
What I sat with instead
Today, I recognised my own strength and my own position. I wasn’t sitting in self-doubt. I wasn’t caught in the old questions:
- Why me? Why does this keep happening?
- What am I not doing right?
- What do I need to do differently?
- How can I be better?
Instead, I sat with anger. I sat with fear. I sat with frustration, and with a feeling of powerlessness. Because that is exactly what power and control seeks to do: to destabilise you until you conform, until you cave.
It works in cycles. It looks for your vulnerability and returns to it, again and again, because it knows that is where it can hurt. Today I sat in the knowing of what that vulnerability is for me. I noticed how naturally my body responds when it is touched, and the deep feeling of injustice that comes with it.
But I also sat in the comfort of my strengths. I know what I do well. I know what I am doing. And I could see clearly what is within my control, and what is not. Two things can be true at once: I can feel powerless in a situation and still be powerful in who I am.
Where power and control lives
We often think of power and control only in intimate relationships, and that is one of the places it causes the deepest harm. But it can be felt anywhere one person or structure holds power over another.
- In our relationships. A partner who monitors, criticises, isolates or punishes, then offers warmth just often enough to keep you hoping.
- In our families. Unspoken rules about who is allowed to have feelings, who keeps the peace, and who carries the blame.
- In our friendships. Love that comes with conditions, or that disappears when you say no.
- In our workplaces. Shifting goalposts, being made to feel grateful just to be there, or a culture where speaking up costs you.
- In our systems. Courts, services and institutions that can leave people unheard, waiting, or having to prove their pain again and again to be believed.
- In our communities. Here in the north of Ireland, many of us carry the intergenerational weight of conflict, of silence, of knowing what not to say and who not to trust. Those lessons live in our bodies long after the events themselves.
- Online. Through control of our devices, our money, our image and our reputation.
The setting changes, but the tactics are often the same: isolate, undermine, confuse, and wear down.
The impact it truly has
The effects of power and control don’t end when the situation does. They follow us into how we think, feel and live.
- Self-blame. Searching for the fault in ourselves, because that feels easier than accepting we had no control.
- Self-doubt. No longer trusting our own judgement, memory or instincts.
- Hypervigilance. A nervous system always scanning for the next shift in mood or tone.
- Learned helplessness. A quiet belief that there is no point in trying.
- People-pleasing and over-functioning. Holding everything together so nothing can fall apart.
- Shame and isolation. Feeling that no one would understand, so it is safer to say nothing.
None of these are signs of weakness. They are adaptations. They are the ways a person learned to survive. And what was learned can, with time and the right support, be unlearned.
Finding your autonomy again
We can’t always change the systems or people that hold power over us. But we can begin to take back what belongs to us: our voice, our choices and our sense of who we are.
Boundaries. A boundary is not about controlling someone else. It is about deciding what you will do to protect yourself. If it depends on another person changing, that’s not a boundary, that’s a request.
Self-worth. Power and control tells you that your worth is conditional. Rebuilding self-worth means remembering that you were worthy before any of this happened, and you are worthy now.
Self-clarity. Knowing what you value, what you need and what you will no longer accept. Clarity is the kindest thing we can give to ourselves, and to others.
What is within your control. It can help to sort it out honestly:
| Within my control | Outside my control |
|---|---|
| How I respond | How others behave |
| Who I let close | What others think of me |
| The support I reach for | The pace of systems and processes |
| How I speak to myself | Whether others take responsibility |
And a gentle question to keep asking: does this serve you any longer?
Building a circle of safe people
Power and control thrives on isolation. One of the most powerful things we can do in response is to build a circle of people who back us.
Safe people are consistent. They don’t abandon you when things get hard. They may not be able to change your situation, but they can say: I’m here. I see you. I’m walking beside you.
They don’t need to fix it. They meet you with empathy rather than advice, and with curiosity rather than judgement. Shame dies when we share our stories in the right places, with the right people.
If you’re not sure who those people are yet, that’s alright. Notice who leaves you feeling calmer, clearer and more like yourself. Start there.
Where I drop my plates
I hold many plates. I hold them with great skill, and it is a privilege to do work I wouldn’t change for anything.
I also have the privilege of being supported by another skilled therapist, someone who works in the same field as me. Each week, she witnesses my heart without judgement. In that room, I can drop every single plate, and I am reminded: you don’t have to do this alone.
This is why I believe it matters so much that therapists go to therapy. We can’t take clients further than we have been willing to go ourselves. Our own therapy keeps us well, keeps us honest about our own patterns, and keeps our nervous systems steady enough to hold space for others. It isn’t a sign that we aren’t coping. It is part of doing this work ethically, and doing it well.
That is what I wish for anyone living under the weight of power and control. Not to be told what’s wrong with them, but to be met, believed and supported to find their way back to themselves.
If any of this resonates with you, our team at Appreciating You Counselling & Supervision is here. Opening up is hard, but with the right people you will be held, met with curiosity, and supported to grow. You can get in touch through our website or email appreciatingyoucounselling@gmail.com.
