Many LGBTQ+ people grow up carrying a quiet belief that something is wrong with them. Sometimes that belief is formed through overt experiences such as bullying, rejection, discrimination, or hostility. Sometimes it develops through more subtle messages: the things left unsaid, the jokes that make us feel uncomfortable, the feeling that certain parts of ourselves are unacceptable, or the awareness that belonging may depend on hiding who we really are. However it develops, the impact can be profound. Over time, many of us begin to internalise the idea that we are the problem rather than recognising the problem lies in the messages we received.
This often leaves us asking questions that appear sensible on the surface but lead us down unhelpful paths. Why am I so anxious? Why can’t I trust people? Why do I struggle with boundaries? Why do I care so much about what other people think? Why do relationships feel so difficult? Beneath all these questions sits a hidden assumption that our struggles are evidence of something defective within us. We judge ourselves for the very patterns that once helped us survive. For many people, healing begins when we stop asking what is wrong with me and start asking a different question altogether: what happened to me?
FROM WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME TO WHAT HAPPENED TO ME
At first glance, this shift might seem like little more than a change in wording. In reality, it can transform the way we understand ourselves. When we start looking at our experiences through the lens of what happened rather than what is wrong, many of the things we have spent years criticising suddenly begin to make sense. The anxiety, people pleasing, perfectionism, hypervigilance, hyper independence, fear of rejection, and difficulty trusting others often developed for a reason. They were not random flaws or personality defects. They were responses to environments that felt unsafe, rejecting, unpredictable, or shaming.
When we understand this, self awareness begins to grow. We start recognising that many of our struggles are adaptations rather than deficiencies. If you spent years monitoring the reactions of other people because you feared rejection, it makes sense that you became highly attuned to the moods and opinions of those around you. If being vulnerable felt risky, it makes sense that relying on yourself became your default position. If acceptance felt conditional, it makes sense that you became skilled at adapting to meet other people’s expectations. Understanding these patterns doesn’t automatically change them, but it changes our relationship with them. Instead of attacking ourselves for having them, we begin to understand why they exist.
Self compassion begins when we stop asking what’s wrong with me and start asking what happened to me.
As understanding grows, something else often starts to emerge alongside it. We begin to recognise that many of the things we have viewed as weaknesses were actually attempts to stay safe, connected, and accepted. This doesn’t mean those adaptations are still serving us today, but it does mean we can begin approaching them with curiosity rather than judgement. That shift is often where self compassion first takes root.
OF COURSE YOU ADAPTED
One phrase I often find myself using with clients is pretty simple: of course. Of course you struggle to trust people, of course boundaries feel uncomfortable, of course you became hypervigilant, of course you learned to put other people’s needs before your own, of course, you struggled with alcohol or substances, and of course you developed anxiety or depression. When we understand the context, many of the things we have spent years criticising ourselves for begin to make sense.
These responses don’t emerge in a vacuum. They develop in response to experiences. Yet many people spend years treating them as evidence of personal failure. They believe they should be different, stronger, more confident, or somehow immune to the impact of what they’ve lived through. Self compassion invites us to see things differently. Rather than asking why am I like this, we begin asking what experiences taught me that I needed to be this way?
This is one reason I often return to Carl Rogers’ root cellar metaphor. A root cellar exists to help food survive harsh winters. The vegetables stored there are not flourishing in the way they might during spring or summer, but they are surviving difficult conditions until the environment becomes safer. Many of our psychological adaptations work in much the same way. They helped us survive. They helped us navigate difficult circumstances. The challenge is that we often continue judging ourselves for having these adaptations long after they have served their original purpose. Self compassion allows us to recognise the intelligence of our survival strategies while also acknowledging that we may no longer need them in quite the same way.
MEETING THE CHILD YOU ONCE WERE
One of the most powerful experiences during my therapy training came when we were asked to bring in a photograph of ourselves as children. I think I was around four years old in the photograph I chose. What surprised me was how difficult it was to connect with that little boy. I struggled to feel empathy for him. Looking back, it was almost as though I was rejecting him in the same way I had felt rejected growing up. I could find compassion for other people. I could recognise their pain and understand their struggles. Yet when I looked at that child, compassion seemed strangely absent.
The experience left a lasting impression on me because it highlighted something I had never fully noticed before. I had absorbed many of the same judgements that had been directed towards me over the years. The voices outside had gradually become the voice inside. What had once been criticism, shame, and rejection from the external world had become self criticism, self doubt, and self rejection. Without realising it, I had started treating myself in ways that mirrored the experiences that had hurt me.
The voices outside had become the voice inside.
Over time, however, something began to change. Instead of seeing a child who wasn’t good enough, I started seeing a frightened little boy who was doing the best he could with the resources available to him. I saw someone carrying secrets, trying desperately to fit in, and attempting to navigate a world that often felt confusing and unsafe. The adaptations I had criticised for years suddenly looked very different. They were not evidence that something was wrong with him. They were evidence that he had survived. Developing compassion for that younger version of myself became an important part of my own healing and helped me understand that self compassion is not about making excuses. It is about recognising reality with kindness rather than judgement.
WHY SELF COMPASSION FEELS SO UNCOMFORTABLE
One of the paradoxes of healing is that self compassion often feels uncomfortable before it feels comforting. If you’ve spent years listening to a harsh inner critic, responding to yourself with understanding can feel unfamiliar and even threatening. Many people have developed a belief that criticism keeps them motivated, safe, or successful. Letting go of that belief can feel risky because it challenges a narrative that may have existed for decades.
This is particularly true when we begin changing old patterns. Putting in a boundary for the first time can trigger guilt, prioritising your own needs can feel selfish, saying no can feel frightening, being more authentic can feel risky when you’ve spent years adapting yourself to fit in. These reactions don’t necessarily mean you’re doing something wrong. In many cases, they’re signs that you’re beginning to challenge long established ways of relating to yourself and others. Self compassion doesn’t remove discomfort from the healing process, but it helps us move through that discomfort without turning it into self criticism.
HOW THERAPY CAN HELP
Many people assume self compassion is simply about being kinder to themselves. In reality, it often involves much deeper work. If you’ve spent years believing that something is wrong with you, those beliefs rarely disappear because somebody tells you to think differently. Self compassion usually develops through understanding, reflection, and experience. It grows when we begin exploring the stories we carry about ourselves and questioning where those stories came from.
Therapy can provide a space to examine the origins of self criticism and understand how shame becomes internalised. Many people discover that the harsh voice they hear inside their head today did not begin with them. It often reflects messages absorbed from family members, peers, schools, workplaces, religious communities, or wider society. Recognising these influences can help create distance between who we are and the beliefs we have learned about ourselves.
Healing doesn’t begin when we become different people. It begins when we stop fighting the person we’ve become.
Therapy can also help us reconnect with parts of ourselves that have been hidden, rejected, or abandoned. For many LGBTQ+ people, this involves developing compassion for the younger self who was simply trying to survive difficult circumstances. As understanding deepens, many people find that self compassion emerges naturally. Instead of constantly fighting themselves, they begin working with themselves. From that place, authenticity, self acceptance, and meaningful change often become much more accessible.
ONE BRICK AT A TIME
I often tell clients that Rome wasn’t built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour. Healing tends to work in much the same way. Once we understand where our struggles came from, it can be tempting to want immediate change. We want the anxiety to disappear, we want the self doubt to stop, we want confidence, authenticity, and peace. Unfortunately, healing rarely works that way. More often it develops gradually through hundreds of small moments that accumulate over time.
A boundary here, a compassionate response there, a moment of honesty, a decision to ask for help. A willingness to trust. A choice to challenge the inner critic instead of automatically believing it. None of these moments seem particularly dramatic on their own, yet together they begin creating profound change. Self compassion is not about becoming perfect. It is about developing a different relationship with yourself, one built on understanding rather than judgement and curiosity rather than criticism. When we learn to stand alongside ourselves rather than against ourselves, we create the conditions for healing, authenticity, and connection to emerge.
Whatever challenges you’re facing, there’s usually a reason they developed in the first place. The thoughts, feelings, and behaviours we struggle with today are often adaptations to experiences that once required us to survive, protect ourselves, or belong. Understanding those patterns with curiosity and compassion can be the first step towards lasting change.
