Embracing Labels – A Starting Point, Not the Final Word
Welcome back Friends,
Twenty years ago, I knew something was off—but I didn’t know what. I couldn’t even articulate exactly what felt wrong. I just knew that I didn’t feel like myself.
At the time, the landscape of mental health looked different than it does now. My understanding was limited to what I’d learned in undergrad psych classes. So, I booked an appointment with a doctor, hoping for some clarity. What followed was a formal diagnosis: depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and dysthymia.
And honestly? Those labels felt like a relief.
To have a name for what I was feeling—to feel seen, even in that clinical way—was comforting. It gave me something to hold on to. But what I didn’t realize then was that naming it wasn’t the end of the road. It was the beginning.
Like the diligent student I was, I dove into research. I read everything I could about those diagnoses. It helped me understand what might be happening in my brain—but it didn’t tell me why.
I remember a conversation with my well-meaning partner at the time. After a difficult interaction, they asked, “Are you reacting like this because of your anxiety and depression?”
That question didn’t sit right with me. It framed my diagnosis as the cause of my reaction—like the symptoms existed in a vacuum, independent of environment, history, or context. And it framed those experiences as mine, as if they were who I was rather than something I was navigating.
Over time, I came to understand something that wasn’t obvious to me then: our minds, our brains, and even our genes don’t exist in isolation. They are shaped by the world around us—our relationships, environments, and the experiences we’ve lived through. Labels rarely reflect that complexity.
Medication softened the edges, and I’m grateful for that. It gave me enough space to begin exploring the roots of my inner experience. But it didn’t remove the triggers or explain the patterns I was caught in. It was like finally catching my breath after treading water for too long—but I still wasn’t back at shore.
Because here’s something I wish more people talked about: there are countless paths that can lead to the same diagnosis. Two people with the same label—depression, anxiety, ADHD, bipolar disorder—might have arrived there through completely different life experiences. There’s no single cause, no single gene. Just patterns our nervous systems learned to survive.
A few years ago, someone close to me (I’ll leave their identity private here) called to say they thought they had ADHD. Because there’s a genetic component, they suggested I consider getting assessed too.
As we talked, I asked what symptoms they were experiencing. Nearly all of them were familiar to me—things I’d encountered myself many times. But for me, after years of personal growth work, I had gratefully found ways to manage many of those patterns. They no longer disrupted my day-to-day life.
It reminded me that growth isn’t just about naming something—it’s about getting curious. About learning why these patterns emerged in the first place. What were they trying to protect me from? What did they help me cope with?
Sometimes, a label gives us the language to begin that journey. But if we stop there—if we cling to the label without looking deeper—it can become a ceiling rather than a doorway. We might over-identify with it, use it as a shield, or unknowingly hold ourselves back with narratives like, “That’s just how I am.”
As Gabor Maté writes in The Myth of Normal:
“Diagnoses reveal nothing about the underlying events and dynamics that animate the perceptions and experiences in question. They keep our gaze trained on effects and not their myriad causes.”
While a diagnosis can offer a helpful framework, it’s never the whole story.
If you’re navigating a diagnosis—or reflecting on one from the past—here are some reminders I’ve found helpful:
You are not your diagnosis. It may describe something you’re experiencing, but it doesn’t define who you are.
The same diagnosis can have many different origins—and many paths forward.
Getting curious about the patterns beneath the label can be one of the most empowering things you do.
There is no shame in using tools that help—medication, therapy, journaling, boundaries, nervous system support. Your path is yours.
It’s okay to feel both validated and boxed in by a label. You’re allowed to shift how you relate to it over time.
True healing (if we want to use that word) isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about understanding yourself more deeply and meeting those wounded parts with care.
Labels helped me begin the journey. But they were never the destination.
And that, I think, is the key: not to resist the label, and not to overidentify with it, but to look beyond it. To let it open a door rather than close one. To let it support your growth—not limit it.
If you’re in the middle of figuring this out—I see you. It takes courage. You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here.
With heartfelt gratitude,
Christina
