It may sound like a strange question. And I usually mention that before asking my clients in therapy sessions.

Of course, if a client does have a strong and robust sense of self – a sense of WHO they are, and HOW they are in the world – they’ll frown and say: yes, I do. And we’ll move on.

Do you know who you are, is a question I ask in therapy sessions when I get the sense a client feels lost. Or un-anchored. It’s a difficult concept to explain - but hey, when has that ever stopped me?

The importance of a sense of self

When a person has a strong sense of self, they go through life learning, making mistakes, learning some more, and generally living their lives all from a solid foundation of who they are.

A confident, robust sense of self

Let me illustrate with an example of a woman with a confident, robust sense of self.

Steph’s in her late 30s with a family – two children and a husband – a house in the burbs, ageing parents, a couple of sisters, a job in retail, and a collection of friends. Steph’s sense of self, of who she is, revolves around her relationships and roles. But the foundations were built in her family from the moment she was born.

Steph has grown up in a close loving family and although she rolls her eyes at her Mum’s fussing, and can get annoyed with Dad’s difficulty expressing emotion, she knows she and her sisters are loved unconditionally. When the shit hits the fan, she turns to her parents and her sisters for support, and they give it without a thought. And of course, she’s there for them when they need her.

So Steph is a daughter and a sister. These roles are active and although there’s sometimes tension, it’s nothing that can’t be sorted with a cup of tea (or glass of wine) and a hug.

At home, Steph has taken her template of how to be a loving, caring mother straight from her own Mum, improved on the original, and applied it to her own parenting. Sure, being a Mum can be tough, but it’s the most important thing she’s ever done in her life.

Steph’s a mum of two beautiful kids. And if you asked her who she is, she’d say ‘mother’ first.

Hubby Joe can be a bit on the hopeless side sometimes – often stressed at work and sometimes absent even when he’s in the room talking to her. But they’ve both worked hard on their marriage and survived the rocky times. Their love for each other is strong and abiding. Joe anchors her, and she knows he’s there for her no matter what.

Steph’s a wife. A role that gives her a warm glow.

At work, Steph is a senior member of the team. She loves her job and the sense of achievement it gives her. But the team is what really makes it for her. She belongs, she’s respected, and she knows she’s good at what she does.

Steph’s a valued team member at work.

Over the years, Steph has carefully collected friends from different walks of life: an old school friend her BFF (best friend forever), a Mum from her son’s kinder, a couple of Mums from her kids’ school, a neighbour, a few girls from work over the years, wives of hubby’s close friends. In varying degrees, these women keep her anchored, and she turns to them easily in times of need. Knowing that she will reciprocate down the track.

Steph’s a loyal, caring friend.

On top of all that, Steph’s active in the school community, still plays netball, and is always ready to stop for a chat with a neighbour.

Steph contributes to her community.

All these facets of Steph’s life combine internally, creating an enduring and robust sense of self. Even when times are tough, and Steph doubts herself, her relationships with those close to her remind her who she is, and she is able to recalculate her course and get back on track.

Steph is a person who answers the question: do you know who you are, with a resounding YES! And a look of surprise – doesn’t everyone? Is that a thing?

In my therapy practice, I only see the Steph’s of the world when a recent traumatic event has occurred – sudden death of a loved one, a burglary, work or financial problems.

An incomplete or damaged sense of self

On the other hand, when a client doesn’t know who they are, the question: do you know who you are can connect them to that void deep within themselves. That lack of internal and external resources. They feel unanchored – adrift on the tide of life. And lost.

On top of that, they might have the niggling sense that other people seem different to them – more confident, less frightened, safer, stronger somehow.

That realisation can be incredibly isolating – and feeling isolated isn’t safe. There’s something wrong with them. And they don’t belong . . . anywhere.

Let’s take a look at Tina as an example.

Like Steph, Tina’s also in her 30’s, with two children, a husband, a house with a picket fence, ageing parents, a couple of sisters, a job in retail and a collection of friends.

Tina’s mum and dad loved her, she’s sure of that. But they didn’t have a clue how to be parents. Tina’s mum has been depressed most of her life, which meant long periods of struggling to cope, let alone provide a consistent and nurturing environment for her children.

Tina was the oldest, and often needed to look after her little sisters when Mum was lying down to rest and Dad was at work. Dad tried to compensate and did his best, but often felt exhausted and helpless, and relied heavily on Tina to manage the house and look after Mum and her sisters.

Tina feels like she didn’t have a childhood.

Tina’s sense of being a daughter and sister is confused by her role as a mother in the household, and blurred by the stress she lived with on a daily basis, as a child given adult duties and responsibilities. There wasn’t anyone to confide her worries to, or provide her with emotional support, so she grew up coping as best she could.

As an adult, Tina doesn’t have a template of a loving, caring, functional mother. Sure her mother loved and cared for her as much as she was able, but it was inconsistent and marred by emotional and physical absence.

So as a mum herself now, Tina’s making it up as she goes along, frantically reading everything she can lay her hands on, and carefully observing how other people parent. But her parenting doesn’t feel solid, and she’s terrified she’s stuffed up and her children will grow up feeling like her.

Tina’s a mum, but it’s a weighty, scary role.

Her husband Paul does the best he can, but he struggles with his own demons. Yes he works hard to provide for them and loves her and kids, but when it comes to taking responsibility himself, he doesn’t know how. She tries to help him by suggesting books he could read, or telling him what to do, but he’s passive and would rather let her make all the decisions. All of this causes a lot of fights, and she often wonders when he’s going to leave her. He reminds her of her dad.

Tina feels alone in her marriage, and it doesn’t feel secure.

At work, Tina lives in constant fear that her performance isn’t good enough and that she’ll lose her job. She can’t tell anyone, because she doesn’t trust anyone with her vulnerability. So she works like a Trojan. On a good day, she can sometimes find a skerrick of pride when she’s praised for doing a good job, but that feeling is fleeting, and she knows it’s only a matter of time before the boss wises up, and she’s sacked.

Job security eludes Tina, and it’s hard to feel confident in her role as a team member.

Tina’s always surprised that her friends would want to bother with her. She’s eternally grateful for their attention, but it can be hard work catching up with them. She couldn’t possibly share how she feels about her life with them, which tends to stop conversations dead. And a couple of times she’s been told that she’s difficult to get to know, which is confusing. Years ago she decided to be the most caring friend in the world, so she’s always there for others when they need her with practical help. But it always feels like they might have a better time without her.

Tina knows friendships are important, but it’s impossible to open up to others and share herself.

In her community, Tina’s as involved as time allows. She vowed when she had children to have a presence at their school, unlike her own mother. So she’s frequently there. But she dreads the playground mothers chatting at drop off and pick up, and often has to sit in her car steeling herself to make an appearance.

Tina is a contributor in her community, but the social interactions are hard work and she doesn’t feel she belongs.

Tina’s sense of who she is, is confused and uncertain. She has a vague idea of who she wants to be, but little idea of how to get there. She constantly feels like she doesn’t belong, and that people don’t really like her. Overarching her sense of self, Tina doesn’t feel safe.

And when a person doesn’t feel safe, they’re unable to attend to needs such as working out who they are. Tina’s roles and social connections are as wobbly as her sense of self.

If I asked Tina in a therapy session, do you know who you are, she’d likely look scared and lost and young, and whisper to me that no, she doesn’t. And my heart would go out to her as we made a plan to embark on working that out together.

Working on a sense of self in therapy is complex and unique to each person. But as a sense of self slowly starts to emerge, it’s exciting and wonderful – for both my clients and myself.