I deserve to take up space…because I am human.

Hi friend,

Whether you have wandered upon this blog through my sharing of it on my social media or on your own, welcome to a reflection of my inner thoughts and my journey on learning about myself. My name is Winnie. I like aesthetic looking things, art, music, and a growing fondness for journaling. I am also a mental health therapist! Currently, I am a Licensed Professional Counselor - Associate, which means that I am just starting my own road into this field and I am in the process of getting fully licensed. But that is not what this blog is about. Although I love what I do and I am so honored to be able to help others in their own healing journeys, this space is for me to take off my therapist-hat and make this page my little corner of the world.

So welcome to the unfiltered version of Winnie…which if you know me in my personal life, I don’t share much about myself, let alone sharing about my mental health struggles, life experiences, tribulations, and my relentless inner critic. I created this blog page in hopes that all my reflections and thoughts that I have learned to write in my phone’s Notes app, Journaling app, my physical journal (yes, I also have one of those), or just writing random reflections on random pieces of sticky notes or papers throughout my days, will be compiled into something coherent that I can look back on and process through. So no “bs”, no fluff, no trying to create a “good image” of myself. Just me, myself…and my raw, messy, chaotic, and perfectly human self.

I hate being vulnerable. I hate talking about my own feelings. I hate being open about my own thoughts. And I know, I know…you’re probably thinking, “But Winnie, aren’t you a therapist?” Well…yes. But I find it so much easier to help someone learn about themselves than having to reflect that mirror back on myself and face my worst enemy - me.

From as young as I can remember, I learned that in order to be loved in this world, I have to make myself as small as possible. “Don’t be a burden, Winnie”, “Don’t cry, Winnie”, “Stop seeking for attention, Winnie”, “Don’t be a crybaby, Winnie”, “Stop bothering others because you can’t do it", “Figure it out on your own", “Don’t take up space”, “You don’t matter”. Throughout my whole life, my family has always made fun of me for a phrase I say so often, starting as early as I can talk: “Oh no, it’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” I was the kid who never asked for new toys or games. The kid my family didn’t have to pay extra attention to. The kid who always tried to stay out of trouble. The kid who tried to make herself as “convenient” as possible so I would not be a nuisance. The kid who believed that becoming invisible was how I was going to be loved by those around me.

My whole family uprooted our lives and moved from Vietnam to the United States when I was 7. From missing chunks of my childhood memories in Vietnam to trying to be the least bothersome kid when we moved because I knew my parents were doing their best to build our lives in a new country, I strongly internalized the belief that I don’t deserve to take up space. That I am not important. That I have to be understanding and grateful for what I have. That as a kid, I was not allowed to ask for what I need because I knew my parents and others around me are doing the best they can to provide for me.

“Don’t be a burden, Winnie.”

This belief was so deeply rooted in my upbringing and the childhood traumatic experiences that I recently rediscovered. Those that shaped me into who I am today. The experiences that my mind buried so deeply to protect myself. Or maybe, this desire of wanting to be loved, of becoming invisible, of “you don’t deserve to take up space”, led me to hide all the horrible things I’ve experienced because I didn’t want my parents to not love me anymore. I didn’t want to become the “troubled kid”. So I never spoke up for myself. I never told anyone about what happened to me. I never dared to say anything because I was afraid no one was going to believe me. I didn’t consider myself to be a person. Because of that, I didn’t deserve to take up space.

The crippling low self-esteem and self-flagellating behaviors led me to take it upon myself to try and carry all the hurtful things that people have done to me. “Be understanding, Winnie”, “Be kind, Winnie”, “You don’t know what they’re going through”, “You’re strong. You can take it. Don’t hurt them just because they hurt you”. I never fought back. Because fighting back means that I am a terrible person for not being compassionate and empathetic towards a human being. Because asking for what I need and telling someone “no” means that I am being selfish. Because I didn’t want to ruin someone else’s life. All of which are qualities that I knew was “bad”. In my 7-year-old mind, to be a “good person” is to put everyone before myself. But let’s be honest here, an honorary title of being a “people-pleaser” is not a compliment. It’s just another word for “self-neglect”. And that is exactly what I have been doing for the past 25 years of my life.

What I have learned recently is that I don’t need permission to be human. I don’t need permission to be a person. And if I truly believe that every human deserve to be heard and understood, then I have to believe that I, too, deserve to take up space…because I am human.

-With love,

Winnie