My sweet college counselor was no match for my self-sabotage. When I was in college, I went to the good ‘ol college counseling center to fix my procrastination. Most of us procrastinate; what’s the big deal? Normally it was manageable. By the time I went to counseling, I was on my 3rd try for English 102, and would spend up to 9 hours on YouTube or video games on a school day. I was not doing great.
She asked me what kind of candy I liked. I told her I really liked Oreos; she said Perfect. Next time you go to study, go to the library and then eat your Oreo after you finish a chapter; reward yourself for doing what you want to get done. I told her I think I would just eat the Oreos and not go to the library. She said, well, we can break it down: take gummy bears or Skittles and put one on each paragraph, and when you read the paragraph,h eat the Skittle. I can still remember looking into her eyes and the sinking feeling in my chest, realizing that this was all she had to offer me. A people pleaser to a fault, I told her I’d give it a try, walked out without scheduling at the front desk, and never saw her again. I did end up passing English 102, but it wasn’t thanks to the Oreo trick. (Which I did try, let the record show.)
Her approach wasn’t the problem; solution-focused therapy is a great tool. Identify client’s strengths (Likes reading, food motivated), identify desired outcome (complete homework assignments), break it down into measurable goals and objectives (read specific chapters on specific days), brainstorm potential barriers (lack of motivation), and brainstorm solutions to those problems (Oreos! Ta-da, fail-proof plan. So where did it go wrong? What solution-focused counseling didn’t account for is that I did not come to therapy with my problem; I came to therapy with my solution. I thought procrastination was my problem. It took me a LONG time to finally realize procrastination was my brain’s solution to the anxiety I felt while starting projects. If I never started, I wouldn’t have to feel anxious! The part of me that procrastinated was trying to protect me from anxiety.
What helped me with that anxiety was a couple of ruthlessly optimistic and personable social work professors who didn’t let me quit. Their compassion for me and their belief that I was capable of academic success eventually became my own and changed how I saw myself. It was a messy process. It looked like check-ins with how I was doing outside of school, caring about my physical and mental health, not just my academic performance. It looked like accountability through scheduled Zoom calls where I shared my screen while writing my papers, so I had support and accountability to keep the blank page from scaring me into easier distractions. I got to the point where I was sure I would be failing English 102 for the 3rd time, and I had an appointment with the professor, telling myself I was going to ask for extra credit, but guessing I’d walk away knowing I’d failed for the third time. I walked in, and she asked what was going on; she’d seen my track record with this class. I told her I didn’t have an excuse, and she didn’t ask for one. She extended the deadline for less credit and gave me a short leash to turn in a draft. I still remember the feeling I had walking out of her office, confused and elated as to why what seemed impossible to me didn’t seem to phase her. She had a belief in me I didn’t have, and I borrowed it. That was the best thing she could have given me.
I needed problem-solving and accountability that solution-focused approaches offer, but it could never be effective until the real issue was addressed: my fear. Connection was the antidote. I needed to know that my professors cared about me to have the strength to face my anxiety. I needed to know I was lovable without being fixed to have the strength to change. I needed to have compassion for myself to view my anxiety as the false alarm that it was and keep it from controlling my life.
If I got to meet that college counselor again today, I’d let her know that solving problems is good, but it’s not the whole picture. It’s an easy temptation as a therapist, who doesn’t love the sound of a 45-minute cure? What I’ve found, not only from my own experience but also with my clients, is that if we slow down to figure out what we are trying to protect ourselves from with whatever behavior we are trying to change, we get longer-lasting results. The kind of change that sticks. One of my favorite parts of my job as a therapist is letting people borrow my belief in them, my pride in their accomplishments, until they are strong enough to believe it for themselves.
What is something you’ve tried really hard to change, and what could it be protecting you from?
Stay curious,
Laura Danese
PS. Who is someone that has helped you overcome something you were stuck on?
Photo Credits: Petit Livre d’Amour (Little Book of Love), Pierre Sala around 1500, Domain Image Archive / British Library
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