Carl Jung, the renowned Swiss psychiatrist, once remarked, “Man needs difficulties. They are necessary for health.” On the surface, this quote may seem counterintuitive—after all, who wants to face difficulties? Yet, when I reflect on my personal and professional journey, I find Jung’s wisdom profound. Difficulties have been instrumental in shaping who I am, both as a person and as a therapist, and this very notion fuels much of the work I do with my clients.
Currently, I’m diving into Ray Dalio’s book Principles, a fascinating exploration of life, work, and personal growth. As part of my study, I took Dalio’s personality assessment. I’ll admit, I was a bit apprehensive about taking the test because I’m no stranger to self-assessment—my professional life revolves around helping others assess their emotions, behaviors, and thought patterns. But as someone dedicated to growth, I felt the need to challenge myself.
The results? Let’s just say, they were both affirming and, well, a little frustrating. According to the assessment, I’m a “weak match” for my chosen profession-"Helper." This struck me hard. How could I be a weak match for something I’ve poured my heart and soul into? My husband, who knows me well and has seen my growth over the years, agreed with the assessment but not because it meant I was ill-suited for my career. Rather, it revealed that I don’t fit into traditional molds—and that’s okay. In fact, it’s exactly this unconventional approach that has shaped how I engage with clients and life’s inevitable difficulties.
The assessment dug deeper and highlighted some key strengths that made much more sense: my top approaches to life are being an Impresario, Orchestrator, and Shaper. These roles imply creativity, strategic thinking, and an ability to bring people together—qualities that help me thrive in the work I do. And then there was my “nurturing” score—90%! Despite being labeled a “weak match,” the assessment clearly showed that I don’t lack compassion. In fact, nurturing is at the very core of how I guide people through the difficult aspects of life.
That’s when it clicked for me—this “weak match” wasn’t about being deficient or incapable. It was about approaching problems differently, which is exactly why I see difficulties not as barriers, but as opportunities for growth.
Carl Jung’s quote, “Man needs difficulties. They are necessary for health,” rings particularly true here. When I reflect on the challenges I’ve faced in my own life—both personal and professional—they’ve shaped who I am today. They’ve taught me resilience, perspective, and, most importantly, empathy. These aren’t qualities you learn by avoiding discomfort; they come from navigating through the tough stuff. And that’s what I want to impart to my clients as well: difficulties are not to be feared but to be embraced, because they are vital to our growth and well-being.
In my practice, I often encounter people who are struggling with significant life challenges—grief, trauma, anxiety, you name it. What I’ve found is that the individuals who are willing to confront these difficulties head-on are the ones who experience the most profound transformation. Of course, this is easier said than done. Most of us are conditioned to avoid discomfort, to seek out what feels good and easy. But real growth happens when we lean into discomfort and see it as a stepping stone rather than a roadblock.
A funny story that encapsulates this idea happened not too long ago. I work closely with a provider partner who regularly refers clients to me. Without fail, whenever we speak, they say, “He says you’re really tough.” And I laugh every time because, yes, I am tough. But I’m tough for a reason. I’ve been through my own set of difficulties, and it’s given me the strength and empathy to be firm yet compassionate with my clients. I believe in the power of struggle to bring about change, and I hold my clients to that standard because I know the transformation that’s possible on the other side of hardship.
While I believe in the transformative power of difficulties, I also struggle when I encounter individuals who offset responsibility and take no ownership of what has happened in their lives. We all face challenges, and though some are unfair and deeply painful, the way we respond to them defines our growth. As a rape victim (While being a rape victim is a part of my history, it does not define who I am. I deeply respect that everyone processes trauma in their own way, and I do not wish to minimize the pain caused by others. However, I believe in the power of reframing and renewal, where we can acknowledge our experiences without allowing them to be our sole identity. We don’t have to carry the weight of our past indefinitely; instead, we can find strength and growth through it, creating space for healing and resilience.) I could very easily adopt the mindset of "This is why I am the way I am" or "This is because of a man." I could recline into the ongoing narrative of "toxic masculinity," which is often used to explain away harm caused by men. (I belive far less of the population than is highlighted these days, that is "toxic masculinity"). But I choose not to.
Why? Because if I allow myself to embrace that approach, I negate my own power and ability to overcome. I would be relinquishing control over my life to the very event that tried to break me. To fall into that mindset would be to forsake my resilience, my strength, and my capacity for growth. Instead, I have worked hard to take ownership of my healing journey, understanding that my strength comes from confronting and moving through that pain, not from staying stuck in it. This is the kind of mindset I aim to foster in my clients—the belief that, no matter what happens, they are capable of reclaiming their power and building resilience.
This toughness isn’t about being hard or unyielding; it’s about understanding that real change happens when we confront our difficulties rather than avoid them. The clients I work with often come to me in moments of crisis—whether they’re dealing with anxiety, trauma, grief, or life transitions—and I see my role as helping them navigate those difficulties in a way that leads to health and growth.
Much like Jung’s belief, I see difficulties as essential for psychological and emotional well-being. We live in a world that often promotes ease and comfort, where pain is seen as something to be avoided at all costs. (Look to overprescribing of psychotropics.) But the truth is, avoiding pain only prolongs it. By embracing difficulty, we allow ourselves the opportunity to grow, to learn, and to evolve. This principle has governed my life for as long as I can remember, and it’s a mindset I encourage in my clients.
The Dalio assessment, though initially frustrating, was yet another reminder of this truth. While it may have labeled me a "weak match," it also revealed that my approach to life is built on the very thing Jung speaks of: growth through difficulty. I don’t see my professional path as one that fits into traditional molds, and that’s okay. In fact, it’s what makes my work uniquely suited to helping others navigate their own challenges. My top approaches—Impresario, Orchestrator, and Shaper—are reflections of how I guide my clients, not from a place of fixing them but from a place of orchestrating their own discovery of strength through adversity.
This philosophy is also why I chose Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) as my therapeutic approach. My journey with CBT began in 1998, at the encouragement of my advisor at Eastern Washington University, Charlie Cleanthous (I despised him then, now I admire him). He was notoriously tough on me, pushing me to confront my own difficulties head-on. Through years of CBT therapy, I learned to reframe my experiences of oppression, difficulty, and pain into opportunities for growth, strength, and achieving goals. CBT provided me with the tools to see challenges not as roadblocks but as catalysts for change, allowing me to transform hardships into empowering milestones in my life.
It’s the same process I guide my clients through: helping them reframe their struggles into opportunities for growth. By embracing adversity rather than avoiding it, we create the possibility for transformation. This is why, despite the assessment's label, I don’t see myself as a weak match—I see myself as uniquely equipped to empower others to turn their own difficulties into strength, just as CBT helped me do.
As I continue working through Principles, I’m reminded that life’s difficulties are not indicators of failure but opportunities for deeper understanding and mastery. Dalio’s emphasis on radical transparency and openness to reality aligns perfectly with Jung’s idea that difficulties are necessary for health. Both suggest that only by confronting the hard truths can we truly grow.
In my own life, I’ve faced my fair share of challenges, and I’ve come to see them as vital components of my personal evolution. Whether it’s navigating the complexities of my career, working through personal relationships, or helping clients in their darkest moments, I’ve learned that health—true emotional and psychological health—comes not from avoiding difficulty but from facing it head-on.
So, when I hear “You’re really tough,” I take it as a compliment. I am tough because I’ve embraced my difficulties, learned from them, and used them to grow. This toughness is what I hope to impart to my clients as they work through their own struggles. I want them to know that the difficulties they face are not obstacles to contentment but necessary paths to a healthier, more resilient self.
As Jung wisely said, "Man needs difficulties. They are necessary for health." Let’s embrace that truth.
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