When Holding My Breath Stopped Working
Some conversations are planned. This one was lived in real time. I invited Brian Spitulnik, a therapist in New York City, on the podcast to do something I had never done publicly: talk honestly about my story and let people see what therapy can feel like.
When Coping Starts To Cost You
For most of my life, I coped by holding my breath, bracing, solving everyone else’s problems, and avoiding my own. It felt automatic. Holding my breath made me feel safe and in control when I had none. Even now, when I talk about what hurts, my body wants to go back there: tight chest, shallow breathing, eyes looking anywhere but the person in front of me.
Why The Relationship Matters
I did not land in the right therapy on the first try. Some therapists helped and then hit the limits of what they understood. Others could name dynamics in seconds that took me years to see. What I have learned is that feeling seen and safe with your therapist is the work. The tools matter, but the connection matters more.
Meeting My Parts Instead Of Fighting Them
Brian uses Internal Family Systems, which imagines different parts inside us: the scared kid, the angry protector, the achiever, the one holding its breath. None of them are broken. They are all trying to help. When he asked me when I first remember holding my breath, my whole body went numb. A younger version of me remembered exactly why he did it. My job now is not to erase that younger version of me. It is to thank him and update him on who I am today.
Letting Anger Exist Without Becoming It
For a long time I was terrified of my anger. I believed that if I let it out, I would become just like the people who had hurt me. In reality, little me already fought back in every way he could. What he did not receive was comfort afterwards. That is what I am learning to give him now.
Learning To Leave Therapy Without Leaving Myself
Recently, I chose to pause therapy. Not because I am done, but because I needed to prove to myself that I could hold my own hand. That I could notice being triggered, use the tools I have, and validate myself before anyone else did. Leaving well meant honoring the work, saying goodbye, and knowing the door is still open if I need to go back.
Finding A New Kind Of Love
Near the end of our conversation, Brian asked if I have the love I am looking for. My answer surprised me. I do, for myself. It is new and fragile, and I want to protect it. I am learning to move slower and to stop repeating old stories that say I only matter if I fix everything for everyone else.
The Reminder I Hope You Carry
Therapy is not about proving you are broken. It is about remembering you never were. Your coping was creativity. Your anger is information. Your softness is strength. You do not need to have it all figured out to start. You just need to be willing to notice, to breathe, and to let someone in long enough for healing to begin.
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