Therapy as a Rebellious Act/ Healing in a World That Wants You Numb

Rebels will change the world Photo by Priscilla Gyamfi via Unsplash.

The world doesn’t want you to feel.
It wants you productive, polite, and out of the way.
Therapy interrupts that.

Out in the world, therapy still gets treated like a punchline—or a last resort.
Like something you do when everything’s broken, not something you deserve when you’re holding too much.

You’ve heard it:
“Isn’t therapy for people who can’t cope?”
“Why dredge up the past?”
“Shouldn’t you be grateful? Other people have it worse?”

We’re still being fed the lie that needing help is weakness.
That healing is indulgent.
That feeling deeply is some kind of defect.

But here’s the truth—therapy isn’t weakness.
It’s the choice to stop pretending you’re fine when you’re not.
And that choice? That’s powerful as hell.
Because inside the therapy room, different rules apply.

Here’s what I know—what I live, and what I witness in my clients every damn day:
Choosing therapy is one of the most radical things you can do.
Especially right now.
Especially when everything in this world is telling you to toughen up, shut up, and—maybe most of all—stay small.

The World Wants You Numb. Therapy Says: Feel Anyway.

We’re living in a time that rewards detachment.

Empathy is being framed as a liability. Pride flags are being banned. Anti-DEI legislation is spreading like wildfire. Books are vanishing from public shelves.  People are being disappeared.  History is being erased in real time—and anyone who dares feel something about it gets labeled “too sensitive,” “hysterical,” or “divisive.” Basically you become an enemy of the state.

Sound familiar? Feel familiar?

And it’s not just politics.
The productivity culture tells us our value is tied to how much we accomplish.

You are what you do, so do more - next time, do it even faster. Be better. “Be best.”

Hustle, hustle, hustle.

Social media sells us curated calm and faux authenticity.
Society tells us that silence is safer than speaking up. Powerful politicians are staying silent. Doing what they're told.

So when you say, “I’m struggling,”
When you say, “I don’t want to carry this alone anymore,”
When you say, “I’m ready to stop pretending I’m fine,”
You’re already breaking the rules.

Therapy Isn’t Navel-Gazing. It’s a Revolution.

Here’s the deal:
Therapy is not passive. It’s not indulgent. And it’s sure as hell not about venting into the void.

Therapy is a refusal to go numb.
It’s the radical act of turning inward in a world that demands you dissociate.
It’s choosing curiosity over self-criticism.
It’s asking: Where did I learn this pattern? and What do I actually want instead?
It’s standing at the edge of your trauma and saying, I will not keep suffering in silence.

That’s not weakness.
That’s power.

Therapy Is Like a Riptide

I grew up in Santa Monica, about ten blocks from the beach.
The ocean wasn’t exactly safe. In fact it often scared the hell out of me—but it was my healing place.

It’s where I practiced mindfulness. In the ocean, I had to stay present.
Not thinking my way through it. Not escaping into my head.
Just breathing. Feeling the pull. Letting the waves remind me I was alive.

And here’s what I learned: you can’t fight your way out of a riptide.
The more you struggle, the more you sink.
But if you swim sideways—if you stop resisting and change direction—you find your way out.

Therapy works the same way.

We’ve been taught that endless effort makes us strong.
Push harder. Try more. Hustle. Fix it. Figure it out.
But for so many of us—especially the high-functioning but secretly unraveling—that fight is exactly what’s pulling us under.

It’s not weakness to stop fighting.
It’s strategy.

Therapy helps you stop flailing and start navigating.
Sideways. Differently.
With your body—not against it.

That’s not quitting.
That’s surviving. Growing. Consciously making changes.

And growing?
In a world that tells you to stay numb, compliant, and detached—
That’s rebellion.

And yes—I practice what I preach.
In my opinion, a good therapist has a therapist.
Not because we’re broken.
Because we’re human.

Stop Fighting the Riptide

If you were raised to perform, produce, and please, you probably got pretty damn good at it.
Made honor roll. Got the degree. Held your family together.
You learned how to push through, show up, and smile, even though inside you were actually screaming.

Maybe you're still doing it.
High-functioning but secretly unraveling.

But here’s the thing about riptides: the harder you fight them, the more they drag you under.

Therapy is a place you can learn to stop flailing.
Learn to pause.
Practice the sideways swim.
It’s about learning how to stop letting the panic of perfectionism drown you—
and start choosing a different way.

That’s not weakness. That’s strategy.

And in a world that tells you to shut up, fit in, and numb out?
Choosing to live, learning to appreciate your whole messy, sensitive, powerful self—that’s rebellion.

For the People-Pleasers, the Perfectionists, the Burned-Out Empaths

If you grew up being the strong one, the caretaker, the fixer—therapy might feel like unfamiliar territory.
It might feel self-centered, or even dangerous.

You were taught to perform strength.
You were taught to smile through it.
You were taught that feeling deeply makes you unstable or unprofessional or “too much.”

Therapy says: Fuck that.

Therapy says you get to stop performing.
You get to tell the truth.
You get to feel what you feel, without rushing to make it palatable for anyone else.

For Highly Sensitive People (HSPs), empaths, and queer misfits like many of my clients, therapy becomes a space where you don’t have to translate your pain. You don’t have to tone yourself down. You get to exist, unfiltered—and still be held.

That’s what healing looks like when it’s real. And yes, it’s uncomfortable as hell.
But it’s also liberating.

Therapy isn’t one more task—it’s how you stop drowning in them. Photo by Eden Constantino via Unsplash

The Political Power of Tending to Your Nervous System

There’s a reason authoritarian systems hate emotional awareness.

Because emotional awareness is fuel for truth.
It helps us recognize injustice. It connects us to our needs.
It sparks anger in the face of erasure—and compassion in the face of suffering.

You can’t build a compliant population out of people who are deeply connected to their values and grounded in their bodies.

And yet, so many of us were taught to override those instincts.
To betray ourselves to avoid conflict.
To nod and smile and not make waves.

Therapy, then, becomes more than personal.
It becomes political.

What It Means to Reclaim Your Voice in the Therapy Room

In the quiet of a therapy session, something revolutionary happens:
You start to hear yourself.

Not the people-pleasing version.
Not the mask you wear at work.
Not the version of you that’s been shaped by trauma, gaslighting, or cultural expectations.

But the real you.
The one who wants more.
The one who’s tired of shrinking.
The one who’s pissed off, hopeful, terrified, exhausted—and still showing up.

As a therapist, I’m not here to “fix” you.
I’m here to witness you.
To ask good questions.
To help you hold what hurts without losing what’s sacred.
To walk beside you while you come back to yourself.

Choosing Therapy Is Choosing Discomfort—On Purpose

Let’s be honest: therapy is not the comfortable path.

It’s not easier than numbing out.
It’s not cheaper than avoiding your feelings.
It’s not less risky than pretending everything’s fine.

But it is more honest.
And it’s the kind of discomfort that leads to clarity instead of collapse.

Because there is no version of healing that doesn’t cost you something.
Comfort. Familiarity. Illusions of control.

But there is also no version of healing that doesn’t give you something in return:
Agency. Integrity. Freedom.

That’s the deal. And it’s worth it.

Therapy as Rebellion (Especially in 2025)

In 2025, when headlines are chaos and human rights feel optional, it’s easy to wonder:
What does it even matter if I go to therapy?
How can I focus on myself when the world is on fire?

Here’s my answer:
You go to therapy because the world is on fire.
Because your sensitivity isn’t the problem.
Because your integrity matters.
Because if we don’t tend to the trauma in our own bodies, it gets passed on.

Therapy is how you break cycles.
Therapy is how you reclaim your no.
Therapy is how you stop gaslighting yourself so you can finally trust your inner voice.

That’s not just healing.
That’s resistance.

Your Healing Helps All of Us

When you unlearn self-erasure, you model what it means to take up space.
When you get better at boundaries, you create room for others to do the same.
When you feel your anger instead of stuffing it down, you access a clean kind of power.

And when you let your grief breathe, you create capacity for joy again.
Even now. Especially now.

So yes—your healing matters.
Not just for you.
But for the rest of us, too.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve been wondering whether therapy is worth it, I hope this helps you see the bigger picture.
Therapy is not a luxury.
It’s not self-obsession.
And it’s not about fixing what was never broken.

It’s about remembering who you are.
Choosing to care about that.
And refusing to be erased.

If that’s not a rebellious act—I don’t know what is.

P.S. You don’t have to be ready. You just have to be willing.

To try. To ask. To start.
If this stirred something in you, you’re not alone. I see you.

Let your healing be your protest.
Let your truth be the revolution.

Want more truth-telling from a therapist who’s still in the trenches?
Join me on Substack for rebellious reflections on therapy, queerness, burnout, and staying awake in a world that wants us numb.
Therapy. Rebellion. Sensitivity. Rage. The stuff polite people avoid—but we don’t.
👉 Come hang out on Substack

Disclaimer: This blog isn’t therapy. If you’re struggling, please connect with a licensed mental health professional.