SURVIVAL INSTINCTS IN ADULTHOOD
This tension followed me into adulthood, where the survival instincts I’d honed in childhood led me down a never-ending spiral of self-doubt and regret.
At work, I held back from speaking up in meetings or disagreeing with stakeholders, fearing I’d be labelled as difficult or my ideas dismissed as irrelevant or wrong.
I’d watch as colleagues around me voiced thoughts similar to my own, earning the recognition or validation I secretly craved.
Even in casual conversations with friends, I often refrained from sharing my perspective, not even on trivial topics like whether Friends or The Big Bang Theory was the better American sitcom.
I always convinced myself that silence was easier than risking conflict – or worse, rejection. But silence comes at a cost.
Over time, the weight of everything I never said built up and I felt increasingly resentful and misunderstood.
I held my tongue, went along with everything said by everyone around me, fearful of rocking the boat. All it did was make me depressed, anxious and, in my lowest points, suicidal.
In 2022, my mum passed away from cancer – and the grief hit me like a tsunami, throwing open the doors for everything I had suppressed since childhood to come flooding back.
At the time, I had just switched to a new therapist who helped me begin unlearning the coping mechanisms that had kept me in survival mode since childhood. For the first time, I felt liberated to express all my thoughts and feelings – even the dark, messy ones.
Strangely enough, embracing my own imperfections helped me to see my parents’.
Slowly, I started to recognise that they weren’t villains trying to control my every move. They were just people navigating life through the lens of their own fears, insecurities and upbringing – imperfect humans, raised by other imperfect humans. Just like me.
