Finally, my independence from the judgment of others.
The story
My father—much like the therapist who accompanies him—is a failure when it comes to giving advice; he seeks to place me in a situation defined by his own prejudices. He operates under the belief that everything is determined by these prejudices and that nothing can be done about them. Consequently, he has never known how to navigate them—other than by skirting around them and living in the misery that such an existence entails. I don’t see either of them as capable of confronting a problem or a situation—even one that might stem from the very source they desire.
My therapist was fixated—desperately so—on forcing me into a mold based on the profiles he had constructed for me. He even went so far as to hunt for evidence regarding my personal life—without me ever asking or needing him to—driven by an impulsive urge to assert his authority. Both he and my father were desperate to ensure I remained under their control. He even showed fear of potential repercussions, despite the fact that he already had the entire situation under his absolute command. I decided to take a gamble: I played along, while simultaneously signaling that he no longer had any access to my inner world—that, in fact, he had been completely shut out. I steered the conversation toward a collaborative effort where both sides could benefit—a prospect he detests, as his agenda requires me to remain in a state of submissiveness and rigid, prescribed action.
My therapist is a dominant personality, but this time, my father couldn’t come to his aid—in fact, I dispensed with my father’s involvement entirely. My father had viewed the situation as a chance to regain control; when that failed, he simply walked away from the table—offering me nothing in return. He left, driven by a fear—perhaps irrational, given the circumstances—that he might lose his own standing, effectively stripping away the comfort I had found and leaving me vulnerable to the therapist. My father saw it as a necessity—a sort of gesture of honor—intended to steer me onto what he considered the "right path." My father, quite frankly, had achieved nothing, and neither had my therapist. My therapist tried to provoke a reaction from me regarding my father—a ploy, as I see it, to finally gain control over me and keep me exactly where he wanted me—but it came to nothing. My therapist was in a real bind; he hadn’t succeeded in therapy, nor through the other therapy he’d referred me to, and my father hadn’t succeeded either. It was his worst nightmare: I had moved beyond the reach of his ability to predict or manage me.
The man tried to push the idea that I should return to therapy—my father did too—but they achieved absolutely nothing. It was an exercise in intimidation; my father even used his job as an excuse, but that, too, failed completely. My therapist simply watched as I slipped through his fingers, realizing that any return to sessions would only bring trouble for him—and his colleagues—because I had no intention of cooperating. I would have forced him to answer for his actions; there was no way I was going to stay silent.
My therapist—much like the previous one I had—finally had to accept that I was no longer a suitable candidate for therapy. After such a long time, I feel completely removed from that world—a system that doesn't truly prioritize the patient's well-being, but instead operates on the convenient assumption that society has already done all it could. I don’t know where my friend is, but I feel radically liberated from that whole chapter. After so long, I finally feel detached from it all. I used to feel as though I had to return—just to prove, from every possible perspective, that I was truly ready to leave it behind—but now, I have become impenetrable. I don’t know where my friend is, but I feel good. I feel that, at long last, I no longer need anyone else in my life to help me with my problems—a state to which my first therapist had effectively condemned me, trapping me in a cycle of constantly seeking external support, needing those jarring shocks, those irritations, that brutal, unvarnished honesty, and that forced "re-centering." I also feel that, in a way, I have freed myself from the influence of this friend—and others—who kept me in a state of complete abnormality, leaving me in a constant, intense state of tension. Now, I realize that I can do without them; they are no longer obstacles, and I can simply wait to see them whenever they happen to cross my path.
I no longer feel a need for anyone else. I consider myself unstoppable and, finally, fully capable of managing my own social life. I am no longer dependent on the evaluations of therapists—in fact, my way of being has forced them to keep their distance, as they are no longer effective; they merely waste time, operating in ways that serve only to play along with their own game. I don’t know where my friend is, but I consider myself free from the world and its chains—free from having to answer for my behavior, and no longer reliant on someone else’s judgment to determine whether or not I am "doing well."
I no longer buy into the kind of spiel delivered by a professional—I’ve managed to break free from that. From my father’s perspective, the situation with my therapist meant that, once and for all, I could no longer recover, and that he simply had to accept it—that there was nothing left to be done, and that all his options had been exhausted. I don’t know where my friend is now, but I hope that one day she comes across this and truly takes it in; I always saw her as someone dependent on the opinions of others—trapped, constantly, in a way, begging for validation. And, for what it’s worth, one thing she was truly grateful for was that I understood she didn’t act that way because she wanted to, but rather because she simply didn’t know what else to do.
Stories in the same category
Points of view
sounds like a tough spot to be in. reminds me of my old boss who always tried to micromanage everything, even when it didn't make sense. felt like they couldn't see beyond their own bubble and ended up making more problems than solutions. you did well standing your ground though! 🙂
it's interesting how you describe feeling liberated, like you've untangled yourself from their expectations. i've been there with friendships turning more into dependencies than genuine support. realizing you don’t need someone around to validate your experiences is pretty empowering. maybe it's less about rejecting help and more about finding the right kind of support that respects your autonomy.
Reading your story reminds me of when I had to deal with my parents' expectations. They thought they knew what was best, always trying to fit me into their idea of success. I eventually realized that it was up to me to carve my own path.
sounds like a pretty complex situation, but i gotta say, it seems like you've thrown a lot of weight into blaming your therapist and dad.
Wow, your story really brings to light how people in positions of authority often have no clue what they're doing or the damage they inflict while pretending otherwise.
it's a bit complex but i can't help but think that cutting everyone out isn't always the best move. i mean, it's good to feel liberated and independent, sure; but sometimes having people who genuinely care can actually be helpful, even if they screw up sometimes. the idea of being completely free from external influence sounds appealing until you realize nobody's got your back when things go sideways. maybe they screwed up with their approach (and yeah, some therapists do act all high and mighty), but tossing out every connection is kinda drastic. i just hope you're not missing out on folks who might actually have something positive to offer ✌️
Man, reading your story kind of hit me in a different way. My sibling went through something similar with our parents always trying to shove their beliefs down our throats, thinking they were doing us a favor. It felt like walking on egg shells around them until one day my sibling just had enough and started making their own choices. Seeing them reclaim their life was pretty inspiring; made me realize how important it is to carve out your own path, no matter how daunting it might seem at first. Keep that vibe going because feeling free from all those expectations can be such a relief!
It seems you're perceiving your therapist and father's actions as an attempt at control, but could there be a different interpretation? Maybe they genuinely believed their approach was in your best interest; perhaps they're just misguided rather than manipulative. How do you see the role of autonomy in therapy when it often requires openly addressing difficult truths?
always feels like ppl got ur life figured out idk rly... kinda scary sometimes
yeah ikr and everyone thinks they're an expert on ur life lol
Your story resonates with me on such a level. I once had a therapist who seemed more interested in sticking me into boxes than actually helping. It's like they forget we're individuals, not labels to fit into their preconceived notions of what 'should be'. You described the feeling of taking control back so well: it's truly empowering when you finally realize that you're the expert of your own life. I'm curious though, have you found any new methods or practices that help you now, outside of therapy? Props to you for stepping away and finding your own power!
The narrative is intriguing, and I find myself reflecting on times when those in authority projected their insecurities as if they were solutions rather than engaging in genuine dialogue; sometimes the most challenging aspect of therapy or familial relationships seems to be managing these projections while maintaining autonomy.
I see where you're coming from but there's something about professional help that can be quite transformative if approached differently.
Your narrative paints a vivid picture of feeling trapped by those meant to guide you; however, is it possible that your father's and therapist's actions stem from a place of misunderstanding rather than control? They might have believed they were paving a "better" path for you, albeit clumsily. It strikes me that not all therapists wield authority with ill intent; sometimes they're just as lost in their methods as we are in our struggles. It's curious how breaking away can feel like liberation, yet leaves one wondering what happens when unforeseen challenges arise without support?? Maybe the real task is balancing independence with selective reliance on those who truly understand our needs.
idk, but it almost sounds like maybe you're throwing the baby out with the bathwater here. like, i'm all for setting boundaries and taking control of your life; but therapy can be a mixed bag, yeah, with some therapists having their own agenda or bias. on the flip side tho, sometimes stepping back and looking at where they might’ve actually had a point could bring some insight too. life gets messy and nobody's perfect (not even us), so is there a middle ground between totally cutting ties and staying in those dynamics? 🤔 just thinking that balance might be worth considering even if it's tough to spot right now.
Your post really made me question the whole therapy thing. Like, are all therapists just trying to shove us in boxes, hoping we fit some predetermined mold? It seems like there's a lot of assumption about what's best for someone without actually getting to know them. I don't know, maybe it's just that some people get caught up in their own methods and forget the individuality of their clients. 🤔 You mentioned feeling liberated from your friend's influence, too: did you ever consider if it was partly because they also had expectations of you? Sometimes it's harder to navigate friendships when you're working on being independent.
kinda seems like you've taken a strong stance against needing help from others, which is cool if it's working for you, but isn't there a risk of isolating yourself too much?
wow that's pretty deep. i get why you feel liberated after all that tension, but i wonder do you miss having someone push you? sometimes a little nudge helps us see things we might overlook on our own. aren't there times when working through stuff together actually leads to personal growth too?