When You Feel Like Something Is Wrong With You

Before I begin sharing about different themes in therapy, I wanted my first post to speak to something I hear so often in my work—and something I’ve known personally. My hope is that these reflections feel like a soft place to land, wherever you are in your own story.

“Is Something Wrong With Me?”

One of the most common struggles I hear from clients sounds like this:

“I’m not normal like everyone else.”
 “I’m damaged.”
 “I’m broken.”
 “I’m not good enough.”
 “Something is profoundly wrong with me.”

These beliefs are painful to live with. They can sit quietly inside for years, shaping how someone feels about themselves and how they move through the world.

I have so much compassion for people who carry this, because I know it well. I grew up with childhood trauma, and for a long time I believed something was fundamentally wrong with me. I didn’t think I could ever feel whole. I struggled with anxiety and depression from a young age, and I carried a deep belief that good things in life somehow bypassed me and went to everyone else—that I wasn’t worthy of anything good. That belief touched everything: my relationships, my choices, my confidence, and my ability to hope.

Being a therapist doesn’t mean I have everything figured out. I’m human, just like everyone who sits across from me. I simply made a decision early on not to let my past define me. I wanted to heal. I wanted to feel normal. I wanted to believe I was good enough, too.

So I committed myself to my healing—looking honestly at my history, my pain, my patterns, and my emotions. There were years marked by severe anxiety and depression. None of it was quick or easy, but it was worth every step. Over time, I learned something I never thought I would: I’m not broken. I’m not damaged. I am enough, exactly as I am. And healing truly is possible.

A Moment That Changed Everything

I still remember one of the earliest moments that opened my eyes.

I was in my mid-20s, just starting graduate school in a counseling program. Many assignments required deep self-reflection—something I had never really done before.

One day, I bumped into an attractive guy at the campus coffee shop. We knew each other through a student club. We said hello, and I could barely make eye contact. My heart was pounding; I felt nervous and exposed. Then I heard a quiet voice inside me say:

“Don’t look at me, because I’m ugly.”

It sent a shock through my whole body.

It wasn’t that I’d never had that thought before—but this was the first time I truly heard it in real time. I left quickly, went home, and cried and cried. I felt so sad for the part of me who believed that so deeply.

That moment became a turning point. I started putting sticky notes on my walls and on my bathroom mirror. Little affirmations. Bible verses. Words I didn’t yet believe but desperately wanted to:
 “You are beautiful.”
 “You matter.”
 “You’re worthy of love.”
 “You are enough.”

It was small, but it marked the beginning of a committed healing process.

That was thirty years ago. Since then, the journey has had ups and downs—moments when I wondered if it would ever end, and moments when I felt layers of myself opening and softening in ways I never imagined.

What I Know Now

Looking back, I’m proud of the younger version of me who took that first brave step. I’m grateful for the therapists who walked with me and for the people who showed up with love when I needed it most. I learned that healing doesn’t happen alone. We need support. We need relationship. And we need people who can help us feel seen, not judged.

Today, I sit with clients not from a place of having “arrived,” but from a place of knowing what it feels like to struggle—and also knowing that healing is absolutely possible.

If you’ve ever felt broken, damaged, not good enough, or afraid something is wrong with you, I hope this story reminds you that those beliefs came from pain, not from who you truly are. 

You’re not alone.
And there is nothing wrong with you.

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If something in this story resonates with you, I hope it brings even a small sense of softness toward yourself. And if you ever feel curious about exploring these beliefs with support, therapy can be a nurturing place to begin.

Iihae Shin, LMFT, is a trauma-informed therapist based in Pasadena, California, offering online therapy for adults across the state. Her work blends somatic, relational, and experiential approaches to support deep healing and lasting change.