There were a few years in my adult life in which I was pretty miserable. Most of it was my own doing or due to my own lens of the world. But still, I was miserable. If you were friends with me at that time, you would have never known how miserable I was. I was all smiles, all “everything’s great,” all completely inauthentic. My Facebook page showed a happy woman with family and friends, all perfectly displayed for the world to recognize how happy she was.

Wisely, I reached out to a therapist and laid bare my miserable soul to him. Then I would walk out of that office, wipe off my tears and pretend that all was well in my world again. One day he asked me if I had close friendships. I told him I have incredible friends; wise, warm, non-judgmental, and truly amazing women. Then he asked me if I shared my unhappiness or struggles with any of them. Of course I hadn’t! I couldn’t burden my friends with my silly unhappiness. Also, I knew I didn’t want to be vulnerable and let them know that my life wasn’t as perfect as I pretended it to be. My therapists advise… “Go talk to your girlfriends.”

And so I did. I shared my misery to a handful of them in my tightest circle. Needless to say, none of them were particularly surprised. They saw I was unhappy, yet didn’t want to push me to talk about it if I didn’t want to. They empathized with me, they shared their own struggles, and they held me up with their words and their love. Why hadn’t I talked to them sooner?

Finding Joy Through Sharing Our Pain

Part of my hesitation in sharing my misery with friends was the worry that I would be a complainer. Once I opened that bag of unhappiness, would I then just be spilling it out all the time? I know people like that and they are unpleasant to be with for longer than five minutes at a time. But the real truth is that I didn’t want them to think that I was anything but perfectly happy. I was ashamed of my struggles and didn’t want others to know that their psychologist friend was a big mess of misery. I’m supposed to be the wise, strong one, aren’t I?

True friends make it perfectly okay to be imperfect. #misery #happiness #friendship #therapy #support Click To Tweet

Why is it that so many of us feel we have failed if we aren’t happy or joyful every minute of the day? Why isn’t it okay to struggle in our marriages, with our children, and with career choices? Why can’t we be okay with being unhappy sometimes and share that with those who love us most?

My misery sharing turned out to be the start of finding my own happiness. My friends (and family) supported my return to school to become a coach and change the direction of my career. They helped me put my marriage back on track and to accept my imperfections as a mother. They loved me through it all, as imperfect as my life really was. They made it perfectly okay to be imperfect.

Many of my clients come in in similar situations. They are unhappy, but don’t want to talk about it with the people who love them most. They live in their bubble of forced joy and perfection. As my wise therapist pushed me to do, I often urge them to get real with the people in their lives. If a friend leaves when you show them your true self, they were never your true friend to begin with. Good riddance to them.

Life is to be shared; misery and all.

Love,

Lisa Kaplin Psy. D. CPC

Lisa Kaplin Psy. D. PCC

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