Resilience, not resistance: An overview of AEDPs stance on psychopathology

Many therapeutic modalities view resistance as an obstacle to progress, often interpreting it as a sign of psychopathology. I’ve always felt uneasy with this perspective. It wasn’t until I discovered AEDP (Accelerated Experiential Dynamic Psychotherapy) that I found a therapeutic approach that not only aligns with my values as a clinician but is also grounded in neuroscientific and developmental research. In AEDP, resistance is viewed not as a problem to be fixed, but as a natural manifestation of the survival strategies clients have developed to cope with overwhelming emotional experiences. When clinicians approach clients as 'problems' to be solved, rather than individuals in need of understanding, the therapeutic process can become dehumanized, ultimately hindering healing.

Humans possess an inherent ability to "self-right," transform, grow, and heal. Additionally, we have an intuitive drive to adapt and survive. These two drives—the urge to survive and the desire to thrive—are not mutually exclusive, but they can be in tension with one another.

From an AEDP perspective, our natural capacity for self-righting becomes restricted when individuals face adversity alone. When forced to confront overwhelming emotional experiences without the necessary support to process and contain the pain, humans are wired to adapt in ways that ensure emotional and physical safety. This often leads to the development of defenses and survival mechanisms. These very strategies, which once helped us cope with suffering, can later impede our transformational potential when the perceived threat has dissipated.

Examples of Adaptations That Once Served a Purpose

• Hypervigilance: People in high-risk professions—such as emergency responders, police officers, and military personnel—often develop hypervigilance as a means of staying alert to potential threats. 

• Dissociation: In the aftermath of trauma, individuals may dissociate as a way of distancing themselves from overwhelming emotions. Viewing the traumatic event from a detached perspective ("That’s not me") can allow a person to function in daily life, while avoiding the painful emotions tied to the trauma. 

• Avoidance: People raised by emotionally unavailable parents may adopt avoidance as a strategy to cope with feelings that were either dismissed or ignored in childhood. Keeping others at a distance, avoiding emotionally charged situations, and becoming self-sufficient may have been survival strategies. 

How These Adaptations Become Harmful

• Hypervigilance: Over time, hypervigilance can become a constant preoccupation with danger, making it difficult to be present and enjoy the moment. This lack of presence can impair relationships with others and oneself. Chronic arousal also disrupts sleep, leads to excessive worry and anxiety, and can cause mental and physical exhaustion. The constant scanning for threats may also lead to overreactions to minor stimuli. Long-term, the body’s repeated activation of the "fight or flight" response can result in health issues, such as cardiovascular problems.

• Dissociation: While dissociation protects individuals from painful emotions, it can also block positive experiences such as joy, love, and pride. Over time, dissociation can create a detachment from reality, impairing memory, concentration, and decision-making. It can also lead to emotional flooding when suppressed feelings break through, triggering panic attacks or emotional outbursts. Ultimately, dissociation can lead to a fragmented sense of self, making it difficult to understand one's values, desires, or life goals.

• Avoidance: Like dissociation, avoidance can prevent individuals from engaging with both the painful and the rewarding aspects of life. Avoidant individuals may miss out on meaningful experiences, relationships, and opportunities for growth. Avoiding distressing emotions limits the development of effective coping skills, which can lead to low distress tolerance. When faced with inevitable stress, this fear and avoidance can become paralyzing. Additionally, chronic emotional suppression can manifest physically as tension and long-term health problems. Humans are inherently social, and isolation can contribute to emotional dysregulation and loneliness.

Other Common Adaptations That Can Limit Growth

• Perfectionism

• People-pleasing

• Cognitive distortions (e.g., black-and-white thinking, catastrophizing)

• Controlling behaviors

• Learned helplessness

• Anger and rage

• Substance abuse

• Self-harm

Even conditions traditionally viewed as pathological can be seen as survival mechanisms in response to real or perceived emotional or physical danger. Examples include:

• Borderline Personality Disorder

• Eating disorders

• Obsessive compulsive disorders 

• Dissociative identity disorder 

• Anxiety disorders 

These 'problems,' when explored deeply with a client, can often be reframed as 'solutions'—adaptations made in response to a lack of support or resources at a time when they were needed most. In my work with clients, I help them explore their symptoms within the context of their past experiences, recognizing how these adaptations may have served them once, while also acknowledging how they may no longer be helpful in the present.

Reframing “Pathology” as Survival

In my own experience, reframing what has traditionally been viewed as "pathology" to a “survival” response can have a profoundly positive impact on clients. When clients are told that their struggles or "symptoms" are the result of psychological abnormalities (e.g., a diagnostic label, maladaptive thinking patterns, or insecure attachment), they often internalize shame, which obstructs healing.

The therapeutic process in an AEDP model requires creating a safe space that minimizes the need for previously vital defenses. One of the first steps in my practice is helping clients unlearn the belief that "something is wrong with me" and instead embrace the idea that "something is right with me." This shift in perspective allows clients to acknowledge that their adaptations were survival strategies in response to overwhelming experiences. This strength-focused approach dissolves shame and unlocks their hidden potential for transformation.

What I find particularly powerful about AEDP is its view of resistance not as a problem, but as a solution. Resistance is a sign of resilience in the face of adversity, not an indication of weakness or personal deficit. It reflects our inherent capacity to heal and is an attempt to seek safety, not a refusal to "cooperate." 

I am constantly inspired by my clients and the incredible ways they’ve learned to protect themselves. My deepest hope is that through our work together, and by building a secure, trusting bond, they come to feel safe enough to let go of the self-protections that no longer serve their healing. I believe that, together, our shared strength will be enough to lift any burden that feels too heavy to carry alone.

Traumatic Growth

In my first psychology class, I heard a metaphor about orchids and dandelions that always stuck with me.

Dandelions can thrive in just about any environment, whereas Orchids require very specific environmental conditions to flourish. In a similar way, some children possess a genetic predisposition towards psychopathology that makes them more likely to be negatively impacted by growing up in an environment that lacks what they need - empathy, care, attention, safety, etc.

The thing about Orchids is although they require specific conditions to bloom - they are also highly resilient. An orchid may not flower in these less than ideal circumstances, but it will do what it needs to in order to survive (just like children and adults that have been traumatized).

My mother in-law is particularly gifted when it comes to bringing these beautiful plants back to life. Unlike me, who often neglects to meet the needs of her plants by giving them too much or too little water and sunlight - she has mastered the art of providing JUST ENOUGH attention and care. In the past, when I noticed that all of the petals had fallen from my Orchids, I would throw them away. When my mother-in-law witnessed me do this for the first time, I was scolded for my misstep and directed to leave my mistreated Orchids in her care. To my surprise, after spending some time in an environment that met their needs - they flowered again, and they were stunning! 

The point I am trying to make is that we should never give up on ourselves or others when we have experienced trauma, loss or suffering. We should never assume that an individual does not have potential beyond what is within their capacity in the present, and beyond what their current environment allows. Instead, I believe that we should assume every human being has the capacity for healing, growth and transformation - when certain conditions are met. It may take time, but when we begin to take care of ourselves, and immerse ourselves in environments (like therapy) that meet our needs - we experience traumatic growth. 

Put simply, traumatic growth is making lemonade out of lemons. It is when we take the most horrendous of experiences and the impact that they have had on our mind-body, and through working on ourselves, and processing - we turn our perceived shortcomings into our greatest strengths.

On a cognitive level, traumatic growth happens when we begin to understand the full scope of how we have been impacted by trauma. When combined with self-compassion, these precious self-insights give way to:

• improved communication about our needs and boundaries.

• an ability to view the world in a more nuanced way that honors multiple perspectives and realties opposed to a black and white way of thinking that was once protective, but no longer serves us.

• greater acceptance of ourselves, as we learn that our emotions, impulses, behaviors and beliefs that feel radical or disproportionate stem from a history of being embedded in contexts that demanded we think, act and feel in extreme ways for the sake of safety.

• greater acceptance of others as we begin to challenge our own biases and assumptions that have protected us from hurt in the past, but damage our relationships in the present.

On an emotional level, traumatic growth happens when we transform feelings of shame, aggressive anger, sadness, fear and loneliness into feelings of compassion, pride, assertive anger, forgiveness, courage and connection. Here, our healing does not come from denying the emotions that are painful or unpleasant - but from allowing ourselves to experience them fully so that we can discover what is on the other side.

On a bodily level, traumatic growth happens when our nervous systems begin to receive signals of safety, offered to us through new experiences that challenge the previously internalized belief that the world and others around us are unsafe and not to be trusted. When this occurs, we notice a felt shift from either hyper-arousal (always remaining hyper-aware of our anxiety and easily triggered by perceived threats) or hypo-arousal (being stuck in a state of collapse, numbed to experience and dissociated from our bodies) - towards regulation. Traumatized individuals feel traumatic growth taking place when:

• our bodies start to move more freely, uninhibited by shame as we focus less on how we are being perceived, and more on what feels good in this very moment.

• Instead of dismissing or repressing internal cries for help, we become active listeners to our bodies. This means learning to respond to the internal cues (ie. stomach growling, fatigue, boredom, lack of sensation/numbness, etc) that tell us what we need (ie. food, rest, excitement, connection, etc).

• we no longer fear taking up too much space. This may look like using our voices when we have previously stayed quiet for fear of retaliation, or occupying more physical space in our environment when we have historically been made to feel ashamed of how much space our body occupies.

• we breathe more deeply, rest more thoroughly, and when triggered - have the ability to soothe ourselves.

Sometimes months will pass before I am greeted with a freshly rejuvenated Orchid. Sometimes years will pass before clients begin to experience traumatic growth. For myself, I have many things left to learn and wounds to heal. In these periods of anticipating change, patience, compassion and acceptance for where we are at is integral to becoming the most authentic version of ourselves. Just like my Orchids, human beings have so much to offer that is well worth the wait.

Disorder as an adaptation to culture

The “grind mentality” we see reflected in today’s culture lacks the gentleness and compassion humanity so desperately needs. Instead, society incentivizes the constant pursuit of goals. All too often, these goals are monetary, and once they are achieved - it is seldom ever enough. Thus, we recalibrate our expectations and begin again. In this perpetual state of cat and mouse, we become stuck chasing happiness and are so focused on the end that we scarcely have the time or energy to enjoy the journey.

The notion of “productivity” is embedded into our every day lives. We are socialized to believe that our worth equates to how many hours we work a week, how much money we generate in a year, what kind of job we have, or whether or not we’re home owners. None of which, inherently has meaning. The meaning we attribute to these accomplishments, is that which we have given it.

When I consider these cultural flaws in what we are taught to believe or value, I think that perhaps capitalist societies were not designed with our success in mind. Maybe, these belief systems we are exposed to at such a young age predispose us to burnout, and warrants adaptations to be made in order for us to survive.

Some people adapt through hyper-vigilance and restlessness in the context of an ever-changing world with endless demands.

Others adapt through collapse. Essentially, becoming all too aware of their powerlessness in an environment that does not have their best interest in mind, and choosing to conserve their energy opposed to wasting it on that which they do not feel they can change.

These individuals that deviate from the status quo are often pathologized as “disordered”.

This is not to argue that mood disorders, personality disorders and neurodivergence are solely the result of cultural influences. This is to suggest that it is through the interplay of biological predisposition, attachment and attunement, and societal/cultural influences that “disorder” emerges, and that in my opinion, “adaptation” is a more fitting and more beneficial word to use when describing variations in human behavior and personality.

I think the role of culture in shaping who we are is downplayed. When psychology overemphasizes the role of individual genetics, or individual experiences - we become isolated in our suffering. However, when we consider our collective, shared realities - we become less alone in our suffering.

I believe that the journey of personal growth is one that can not be done alone. It is through connection, and a shared sense of unity that we can begin to heal wounds that were created by the masses. This is not always easy in a world that in many ways, isolates us from one another. Possibly it is the optimist in me, but I have hope that through individual, group, community and global effort - the world has the capacity to foster togetherness and growth, opposed to aloneness and hurt.

Taking the time to slow down in our day to day lives and take care of ourselves, changes the way that we are able to love ourselves, and others, For those that receive our gentleness and compassion, a ripple effect is created. My life’s purpose is to be able to share this experience of co-created transformation with my clients, and to witness the effect that love and connection has on one’s inner and outer world.

My Conceptualization of The Inner Child

When I think of child-like qualities, and remember my own childhood self these are a few of the things that come to mind.

Imagination: My younger self had a collection of teddy bears, dolls and imaginary friends. As a little girl, she would find so much joy in hosting tea parties, and having conversations with, and between these little friends. I can still remember the names and backstories of my favorite stuffed animals - Fluffy the stuffed white dog that was always getting into trouble, and Dolly, the elegant princess that rode around on a carriage to avoid dirtying her gown.

Curiosity: Like many children, my younger self was always FULL of questions, and the world FULL of mysteries.

How do airplanes stay up?

Why is the sky blue?

What happens when we die?

How are babies born?

Why can’t animals talk like humans can?

What does the Easter Bunny look like?

I can recall a sense of awe and wonder, and sometimes, worry and fear as I would ask adults in my life for the answers to these questions amongst many others.

Presence: As toddlers, and small children, we seldom worry about the past or the future - we simply exist in the present moment. As a toddler, from what I’ve been told, and what I can remember, whether I was playing with friends, engaged in an activity, or exploring my surroundings - I was always totally immersed in what I was doing.

Joy: In childhood, we are experiencing everything for the first time! For my younger self, going to the beach, eating ice-cream, climbing trees, petting a friendly dog, getting a new stuffed animal or being told stories of mythological creatures and monsters would evoke a child-like glee, incomparable to any adult feelings.

Authenticity: If we believe that kids are born as blank slates like as John Locke proposed - we begin life free of likes and dislikes, bias, beliefs and thought, and it is through experience that we are shaped. Although I believe this is only partially true, I think it is children’s lack of exposure to external influence that allows them to be authentically themselves. As a child, I remember expressing my thoughts and feelings in absence of any filter, acting on impulse whether it was in the form of a temper tantrum or undiluted joy, and running, laughing, dancing, screaming or crying like not a soul in the world was watching.

As we grow up, we all too soon discover that these child-like qualities are often incompatible with success in an adult world. Our imaginations may become less active as we encounter more demands in reality. We may be forced to come to terms with the uncertainty afforded to us by so many unanswered questions, and stop asking. Managing our lives might necessitate that we learn from past mistakes to help us plan for the future thus, limiting the time we spend in the present. We may grow tired of the things that were once new and exciting, making it harder to feel joy. We may profit from being accepted into social groups, and in turn, learn to hide or enhance characteristics of ourselves that make us unique in order to ensure we will fit in. Throughout our developmental journey, we make these adjustments to our core self, and repress our inner child for the sake of survival.

In extreme cases, when children are deprived of developmental milestones, and do not feel safe enough to embrace their child-like qualities - the inner child may become developmentally “frozen”. For instance, the child may have internalized conditions of worth, learning that they will only be accepted and loved if they mask their true self. Alternatively, the child could have felt endangered, calling for the employment of defenses to keep them safe, and the suppression of emotions, cognitions, beliefs or behaviors that were not orientated towards survival. When this occurs, a child’s development can become stunted, and they may carry protective trauma responses with them into adulthood. Here, the problem is that often, the child is no longer in danger, and the strategies that once helped them - begin to harm them. For example, a little girl that learned to “faun”, and agree with everything her abuser said to avoid abuse may struggle with setting boundaries as an adult, and be prone to being taken advantage of. As we learn to nurture ourselves, and the child within, the traumatized parts of ourselves may need to hear that they are safe, and that “this is here and now, not there and then”.

Therapeutically, I prefer to think of the inner child as a part within us that has many expressions of joy, anger, fear, curiosity and authenticity, just as we would as children. The goal of inner child work is twofold. As a therapist, my role is to provide a clients inner child with a corrective, therapeutic experience. By building trust with the inner child, and signaling to them that I care about them unconditionally, and that they are safe and free to express themselves authentically, and explore their emotions - I am helping them to “unlearn” the adaptations that helped them succeed as an adult, but inhibited the child within. As a client, the work lays in beginning to meet the unmet needs of the child within, so that they can be nurtured, and liberated. Meeting the needs of the inner child could involve having conversations between the adult self and the child within, reconsolidating past memories, reminding the traumatized child that they are safe, advocating for the vulnerable parts of the self, or protecting the child from those that make them feel unsafe. For the client and therapist, reconnecting and building trust with, exploring the needs of, and eventually - liberating and nurturing the inner child is a long and difficult process that takes time and patience.

The concept of the inner child is an abstract idea, that has many different interpretations. As a constructivist, I like to think that meaning is not inherent, but co-created in our interactions. Hence, although this is my understanding of the inner child, it may not be shared by others. For me, the inner child embodies vulnerability, imagination, joy, creativity, presence and curiosity. However, if I am to cite Locke’s notion of a blank slate - I must acknowledge that even my own conceptualization of the inner child has been colored by my environmental, cultural and social surroundings. With this being said, I hope to continue embarking on my own journey of self-discovery and nurturing and liberating my child within, and encourage others to pave their own way towards an authentic expression of self- whatever that may look like.

The Non-Verbal Realm and Unspoken Experiences of Therapy

When I first started practicing therapy, I found myself drawn to the coherent structure and straightforward explanations and solutions offered by cognitive behavioral therapies. During this time, my therapeutic work revolved around discussions of goals and symptoms, coping mechanisms and behavioral patterns, negative feedback loops and cognitive distortions. I loved how my clients internal struggles could fit so perfectly into a predictable flow between thoughts, sensation, emotion and behavior.

Overtime, I started to pick up on a deeper subtext within these discussions - communicated in a dialect that was somehow mutually felt, but could not be put into words. This unspoken language existed in the space between client and therapist, within the therapeutic relationship. Once I stopped trying to follow logic to understand a clients internal world, and started following emotion, I found that a sense of connection, shared purpose, acceptance and sometimes love would emerge in this non-verbal realm of the relational space. I knew this was there when I would feel a lightness, or a warm and fuzzy sensation arise in my chest. At first I thought this was a one-sided experience, but once I started checking in with clients in-the-moment experiences by asking questions like “what are you feeling as you say that?”, I realized that this was a shared experience. As I started to explore the conceptual framework offered by emotion-focused therapy, I discovered the words I was looking for to explain the shifts I was noticing in my own work. When a therapist, or anyone, asks about what is happening inside ones body, or emotions being felt in the moment, it draws both parties attention towards these non-verbal experiences, and in the process, creates a shared experience. It is my belief that it is from this shared experience of connection and attunement, rather than the words being said or the patterns being observed that transformation emerges

When we think of empathy, the classic understanding is the notion of being able to “put ourselves in someone else’s shoes”. Although this speaks to a cognitive understanding of someone else’s perspective, I think it lacks the kind of intuitive, felt understanding that allows us to truly empathize. One of the biggest changes I’ve noticed in how I practice, is the vulnerability I bring into a session by not just verbalizing my understanding of a clients lived experiences, but by immersing myself in the felt experience being communicated to me.

Although I still see value in cognitive modalities, and integrate them within my work, a relational and emotion focused approach has truly felt like the best fit for my personal and professional identity. I still have so much growing to do as a person and a professional, and as I write these words I notice that they don’t come close to fully expressing what it is that takes place in the non-verbal realm of therapy. Nonetheless, I hope throughout my own journey of self-discovery I continue to get closer to finding the words that represent these shared experiences, and cultivating these moments of transformation.