What makes a joyful life?

Here’s one of my least favorite questions, one that I get asked all the time:

“What made you decide to become a psychologist?” 

It’s usually during a casual social interaction, over a glass of Pinot Grigio, the other person all smiles and inquisitive eye squinting. 

(It’s second only to my absolute least favorite question- “Uh-oh! Are you analyzing me?” No, I get paid for that, I’m simply having a drink at a party right now. And no, I also can’t read your mind.) 

But I digress.

I never know the correct or appropriate answer to why I became the elusive mind reading, personality analyzing psychologist.

“Um, I’ve been gifted with the right combination of high EQ and fucked up childhood?”

Given the other person’s nervous laughter, it’s clear this answer doesn’t land.

Instead, I try: “I had a lot of opportunities in childhood to learn about abnormal human behavior,” I say with a light chuckle and a quick sip.

I receive a nod, a slight smile, a changing of the subject. Still awkward. 

Keep it profesh, Claire. Keep it light. Never mind that the reason I was good at this before I even started graduate school was that I was hypervigiliant to other people’s moods, desires, and behaviors.

Okay, how about this: “I’ve always been fascinated by what makes humans tick. You know, why they think, behave, and feel the way they do. And I love helping people!”

The listener smiles and gives an emphatic nod, the answer does trick. And it’s also true. Just not the truest truth.

I learned a lot in childhood about how to stay safe. And funnily enough, my safety mechanism became my greatest skill, and then, my livelihood.

 I’ll warn you now. I have a dark sense of humor, but I’m a people pleaser in remission. After I say a too-dark (but hilarious!) joke, I spend some time in a ruminative loop, curious why I find dark shit so funny when other people (except for my siblings) simply appear horrified. And then I think, is it me? Is it them? Maybe I’m not too fucked up! Maybe they’re too vanilla!

Anyway, in all seriousness, understanding and helping others has been a hugely rewarding gift in my life. I get to be connected and helpful to others for a living. It’s very special and I am truly grateful.   

And doing this for myself, understanding what I went through and then getting myself out of decades of living in a trauma response, was what has gotten me to the joyful, connected life I have now.

And no, I don’t mean joyful in a all sunshines and roses and laughter way. I mean joyful in the truly connected, honest way that we can live when we accept who we are and the hard things we’ve been through. That we can’t be different nor can we rewrite our pasts, no matter how much we want our truths to be untrue. It’s still somewhat of a head scratcher, that true and full acceptance is the only thing that can change our circumstances.

“It’s still somewhat of a head scratcher, that true and full acceptance is the only thing that can change our circumstances.”

A joyful life, to me, is being fully connected to myself and others, not living from a dissociated, numbed out place. Of course, I love a little distraction, we all do. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about living as a whole human, not a disjointed one.

I want to help you find these things, not just on my own (no single blog or person can do that), but by pointing you in the right direction to find these things for yourself. And by sharing my own anecdotes and stories. Healing from childhood sexual abuse personally, and working professionally with survivors over the past, I don’t know, fifteen-ish years, puts me in a unique position. I hope I can pass along some of the things I’ve learned.

I want to start a movement. Yep, that’s right, it’s bold AF and I said it. I want to move toward a concept of Post traumatic JOY. Not stress, not growth, but fucking JOY.

I’m not talking about survival.

I’m talking about big, bold, joyful living.

And I believe that the way we do that is by talking to each other. To stop being silent. To be connected within ourselves and with each other. Telling our stories, sharing what we’ve learned, together.