Bird House Counselling

29/12/2025

27/12/2025

The Tiny Word That Changes Everything: The Power of "Yet"

In my counselling room, I often hear statements that sound like full stops.

“I don’t understand this.”
“I can’t calm my anxiety.”
“I haven’t found a way to forgive.”

These statements feel like permanent verdicts on our abilities and our healing. They lock us into a fixed story of who we are right now.

But what happens if we add one small, powerful word to the end?

“I don’t understand this… yet.”
“I can’t calm my anxiety… yet.”
“I haven’t found a way to forgive… yet.”

That tiny word “yet” is a master key. It doesn’t deny the current struggle. Instead, it gently opens a door to the future. It transforms a full stop into a comma in your story.

“Yet” acknowledges that growth is a process. It validates where you are while holding space for who you are becoming. It changes a statement of defeat into a statement of faith in your own journey.

It whispers to your nervous system: This is not the end of the road. You are learning. You are growing. You are on your way.

Try it today. When you catch yourself declaring what you can’t do, add that magical word. Feel the shift from a closed door to a path forward. Your “yet” is where your potential lives.

25/12/2025

Are You Exhausted From Carrying Other People's Choices? The Power of "Let Them" and "Let Me"

How much of your daily anxiety comes from trying to control what you simply cannot ...........other people?

Therapist and author Mel Robbins offers a powerful two-word mantra for this: "Let Them."

Let them be disappointed.
Let them make a bad choice.
Let them be upset with you.

This isn't about apathy. It’s about profound respect for another person's autonomy and reclaiming your own peace. When you stop trying to manage someone else’s reactions, you drop a weight you were never meant to carry.

This connects directly to its partner phrase: "Let Me."

Let me feel my disappointment without fixing theirs.
Let me prioritize my own well-being.
Let me accept that I cannot control this.

The refusal to "let them" and "let me" is often what holds us back. We stay stuck in cycles of frustration, resentment, and people-pleasing because we believe our effort can change someone else's path. In reality, it often just drains our own energy and delays our growth.

Holding on to that control is a form of self-abandonment. You are putting their potential growth ahead of your actual peace.

Today, practice one small release. Where are you trying to steer an outcome that isn't yours to steer? What happens if you just... let them? And in that space, what do you need to let yourself do, feel, or be?

24/12/2025

A Gentle Reflection for the Holiday Season

Amidst the twinkling lights and the chorus of familiar songs, Christmas can hold a quiet complexity. It’s a time that reflects both the warmth of connection and the sharp edges of absence—a season that holds space for celebration and for the gentle ache of what has been lost or changed.

If this time brings you joy, may you feel it fully in your heart. If it brings a sense of weight or loneliness, may you offer yourself the deepest kindness. Your feelings are valid, and you don’t need to perform peace if it isn’t truly there.

Perhaps the quietest gift we can give ourselves this year is permission—to celebrate softly, to grieve what’s missing, to step back from what drains us, and to create moments that feel genuinely nourishing.

However you are meeting this day, may you find a moment of true peace. Not the kind pictured on cards, but the inner peace that comes from honoring exactly where you are.

You are enough, just as you are.

Wishing you warmth and gentle moments.

21/12/2025

Taming Your Inner Wild Horse: A Lesson in Emotional Regulation

Think of your emotional brain as a powerful, wild horse. It’s instinctive, strong, and built for survival. It senses danger and reacts instantly—that’s its job.

Now, think of your thinking, logical brain as the rider.

When the horse (your emotions) is calm, the rider can guide it with ease. They work together beautifully. But when something triggers the horse—a sudden noise, a memory, a stress—it can spook. It might rear up with anger, bolt with anxiety, or freeze with fear.

In that moment, the rider isn't in control anymore. A spooked horse is stronger than any rider.

This is what happens when we feel emotionally overwhelmed. The logical part of our brain (the rider) gets overthrown by the emotional surge (the horse).

Emotional regulation isn't about beating the horse into submission. It’s not about suppressing your feelings. That only makes the horse more wild and unpredictable.

True emotional regulation is the practice of the rider gently calming the horse.

It’s the deep breath before you speak in anger. It’s the walk around the block to cool down. It’s naming the feeling: "I am feeling overwhelmed right now." This is the rider taking the reins back, not with force, but with steady, reassuring presence.

The goal is partnership. A well-trained horse is still powerful and passionate, but it is guided by a rider who respects its strength. Your emotions are the same—they are a source of incredible energy and information, not enemies to be defeated.

Be a kind rider to your emotional self today.

19/12/2025

If someone you love is in pain, your first instinct is often to help. To find the problem and solve it. You see them hurting, and you want to hand them a tool, a strategy, a plan—anything to make the hurt stop. This impulse almost always comes from a place of deep love.

But what if this very instinct, as well-intentioned as it is, can sometimes push the person you love even deeper into their isolation?

In my work with individuals and couples, I often see a painful pattern: one partner is struggling, and the other, playing the role of the “fixer,” jumps into action. Yet, despite the effort, both people are left feeling frustrated, disconnected, and misunderstood.

The reason is this: When you try to “fix” a person’s emotional pain, you are often inadvertently invalidating their experience.

Continue Reading
https://www.birdhousecounselling.com.au/fix-vs-emotion

17/12/2025

If you’re reading this, you are undoubtedly strong.

You’ve endured. You’ve gotten out of bed on the hardest mornings. You’ve managed to smile for your kids, meet your deadlines, and keep the household running, all while carrying a quiet, emotional weight. You’ve developed a incredible resilience—a strength that has been your anchor in the storm.

This kind of strength is what helps you endure the pain. It’s the fortress walls you built to protect yourself. It’s the part of you that says, “I can get through this,” even when you feel like you’re breaking. And it is vital. It has brought you this far.

But if strength is the wall that protects us, then courage is the hand that gently opens the gate.

In my work, I often see this distinction. Many of us are strength experts. We are masters of endurance. But the path to true, lasting healing often requires a different, more vulnerable quality: the courage to stop simply enduring, and to start embracing.

Continue Reading....
https://www.birdhousecounselling.com.au/strength-vs-courage

15/12/2025

The Wound and the Isolation: What Really Causes Lasting Trauma?

In my work, I often see that the most damaging part of a painful event isn't always the event itself. It's what happens after.

The truth is, trauma settles in the silence. It takes root in the isolation.

When something painful or frightening happens, our nervous system is designed to process it through connection. We are wired to reach out, to tell our story, to be comforted, and to have our experience validated by a safe other. This is how we release the charge and remember that we are safe.

But when that doesn't happen—when we are alone with the pain—the trauma gets stuck.

Perhaps you were met with disbelief. Maybe you were told to "get over it." Or maybe the shame was so great you locked it away, believing no one could understand. That aloneness tells your nervous system, "This is too much for anyone to handle. You are alone in this. You must stay on high alert."

The original event causes the wound. The loneliness is what allows it to fester.

This is why healing so often happens in relationship. In the safety of a therapeutic space, or with a trusted friend, you finally get to break that silence. You get to take the pain out of the dark, lonely corner and hold it in a space of shared understanding.

You are no longer alone with it. And in that moment, the trauma begins to lose its power.

If you are carrying something alone, please know this: your pain is valid, and it was never meant to be carried by you alone. Reaching out is the bravest step toward healing the isolation that trauma thrives on.

13/12/2025

The Strongest Mask is Often Anger. The Bravest Act is Vulnerability.

In my counselling room, I often see a powerful truth: anger looks like strength, but vulnerability is strength.

Anger can feel powerful. It’s a shield. It pushes people away and makes you feel protected and in control. It’s a fortress you build around your hurt, your fear, or your shame. And in many situations, it was probably a necessary survival tool.

But here’s the secret: holding up that shield is exhausting.

True courage isn't about building higher walls. It’s about making the brave, terrifying choice to lower the drawbridge. It’s about letting someone see the very parts you’ve been hiding—the disappointment, the sadness, the need for help.

It takes far more strength to say:

"I'm hurt" than to lash out.

"I'm scared" than to pretend you don't care.

"I need you" than to push everyone away.

Vulnerability is the ultimate act of trust—in yourself and in another. It’s saying, "I am willing to be seen, even if it means I might get hurt." That is real courage.

When you choose to be vulnerable, you aren't falling apart. You are finally inviting someone to help hold you together. You are trading the lonely fortress for the possibility of real connection.

So, if you're tired of carrying the weight of that anger, know this: your softness is not a weakness. It is the birthplace of everything that truly connects us—love, belonging, and deep, authentic healing.