Heard It in a Past Life: Dishonesty During Therapy
About the Series: Heard It in a Past Life
Our favorite witchy queen Maggie Rogers sings the haunting phrase of “maybe there’s a past life comin’ out inside of me” to close out her most somber song, “Past Life," of her 2019 debut album. Her somewhat pensive tone encapsulates how many of us feel when looking back on our past lives — regret, sorrow, disappointment, even anger. Yet, Maggie is attempting to make amends with her past selves through this song, even through her whole album that carries a similar theme. How can we reconcile with our pasts and bring them into our present selves, or even into our future selves?
At Camp Thirlby, we not only encourage our readers to reflect on their past lives, similar to what Maggie Rogers does in her moving song, but to delve into those experiences headfirst through their own personal memoir. Our series to ring in the new year, “Heard It in a Past Life,” to cite her album title, does just this — it showcases the ways in which our Camp Counselors have reconciled with their origins and past selves, relating to queerness, mental health, and more, to bring into the here and now, no matter how difficult that may be. Because maybe, our pasts are more present than what we ever once imagined.
Ever feel like you have a filter on during therapy? Realize you left out an important detail? Edit your experiences as you retell them to make yourself seem better? Feel guilty for never revealing a past trauma? You’re not even close to alone — 93% of participants in one study admitted to lying in a therapy session at least once. Why do so many of us who go to therapy lack the ability to be completely honest?
Ignoring, filtering, or mischaracterizing the truth in therapy is common for countless reasons. Think about how many people you put up a front with, and then try to not put up a front with someone who is essentially a stranger who knows nothing about you, but wants to professionally talk about and help you with your deepest pains (and not theirs). The transactional nature of psychotherapy means that inevitably, there will be a barrier of some level between you and any provider. Whether it’s leaving out a traumatic life event, telling a story from your week inaccurately to portray yourself in a certain light, or lying about a habit you are ashamed of, the membrane between you and your therapist can be as thick as you decide you want it to be.
Sometimes it can be about a sense of self — it’s common to want to paint oneself in the best light, especially in such a vulnerable atmosphere. In fairness, anything you tell your therapist is likely to be biased, as they are only getting your point of view. Moreover, many folks in therapy are attempting to work through distorted thoughts or misconceptions about themselves and others, making it inherently hard to relay information accurately. A therapist can only hear your side of the story, and no one is a perfectly objective storyteller. Most people want to be liked and considered to be a good person, so the instinct to position yourself as the “better” or “right” person in any given scenario is natural. Such subjectivity is bound to come through when revisiting your past life experiences and day-to-day activities in the context of pain, troubles, or self-reflection. We have a predisposition to believe we’re in the right, and relaying our experiences to reflect that is normal. People also often have trouble honestly reporting their feelings or experiences as a self-defense mechanism — self-minimization or denial about the reason for treatment is common. Others may also simply want to be liked or do well in their sessions, and fear their therapist is judging them and their progress, making them dishonest for the sake of seeking validation.
Perhaps another factor is the reality that recounting and reliving trauma is triggering.Though psychotherapy is all about talking, sometimes past trauma or experiences are too painful or triggering to articulate aloud, so someone may withhold that information at the start of their relationship with a therapist (either with a new provider or in their first time in therapy). Therapy is a way to work through your past and present experiences through discussion. However, it can be tempting to invent yourself as a trauma-free individual — we do this with new relationships all the time. Furthermore, there may be fear that past or present trauma won’t be believed or taken seriously, leading to an avoidance of this information in sessions. Besides, it’s understandable to not want to disclose such intimate personal information immediately, so don’t blame yourself if it takes you a bit, whether it’s five or fifty sessions.
However, lying or leaving out information in a therapy session can also be a conscious or unconscious act of self-destruction. Incorrectly reporting habits or thoughts is common to prevent a therapist from being able to stop such behaviors. Though a therapist clearly does not have control over what you can or can’t do, it can often feel like their professional authority will interfere with a coping mechanism, for example, that, while comforting, is unhealthy. Dishonesty could also be destructive in a much simpler way — someone may just not want to deal with talking through something because it hurts to talk about or they’d rather ignore the problem.
There’s also the age-old imposter syndrome — the feeling that you don’t deserve therapy or belong there. Maybe you’re in denial about the severity of your mental health condition, or maybe you simply feel so much self-hatred and guilt that you don’t believe you should have access to help. Either way, getting yourself to be there is an admirable first step — you’ve already done the hard part. Beyond that, your therapist likely has encountered many folks who feel weird about being in therapy in some capacity, and they’re prepared to support you in continuing attending and participating. The more you go, the easier it may get, and the imposter guilt may begin to fade.
There’s no requirement to be honest in therapy in the same way that there’s no requirement to go to an optional lecture class — you should really do it, but you know there will definitely be times when you don’t.
Yes, it’s vital to be honest so that your therapist can understand you and best provide care for you. However, your therapist is also a psychology professional, meaning they are likely emotionally perceptive and able to understand many folks whose distortions, fears, and shame manifest as incomplete truths or not-so-honest performances of their experiences and personalities.
The guilt you may feel for who you become in your therapist’s office is valid, but keep in mind that you’re in therapy to work on your emotional regulation and communication — it’s okay if you don’t have it down perfectly just yet.
And keep in mind there are upsides to honesty — not only does it mean your provider may be more able to help you unravel your experiences, thoughts, and behaviors, it can also bring a sense of freedom or relief to articulate a feeling or event out loud.
Even beyond that, it’s important to be honest for your growth and wellbeing. Despite the discomfort you may feel, honesty with your therapist can allow you to understand yourself better and find clarity in what you need. Revisitation of our past selves can bring back pain, happiness, confusion, nostalgia — but you need to know who you were to know who you are. Allowing honesty about your past life is the way to know, love, and understand yourself in the present.
About the Author
Elena Phethean (she/her/hers) is a junior from Pleasantville, NY studying Women’s, Gender & Sexuality Studies and Community Health at Tufts University. There, she is the co-coordinator of Tufts Sex Health Reps, a student group bringing comprehensive and inclusive sexuality education and sexual assault prevention to campus. She also loves music and sings with her a cappella group, the Tufts Jackson Jills. As a queer woman, she is especially passionate about women’s/gender minority health and queer sexual health outcomes, as well as working with survivors.
