Hi, I’m Ana. I’m a licensed psychologist and writer exploring the inner landscapes of emotional life — especially the moments that feel messy, uncertain, or quietly transformative.
If you’re new here, welcome. Field Notes from a Psychologist’s Life is where I share poetic reflections, grounded psychology, and stories for people navigating change.
In therapy, we often say we want change.
But what we usually mean is: I want to feel more comfortable with myself.
So what is it, really?
Do we want to stay the same but suffer less, or do we actually want to become someone different?
Usually, it’s the latter.
But change is hard. And the resistance to change often feels like an ungrateful, uphill battle: a battle against yourself.
Why does change feel like a battle?
Well, many reasons.
First, because your ego doesn’t want to be told it should become anything other than what it already is.
And your brain? It’s wired to keep you safe, which means keeping you predictable.
Change, from a neurological perspective, is expensive. It demands energy, focus, and effort. It’s rarely worth the cost… unless something in you is truly ready for it.
Or unless the cost of staying the same finally feels heavier than the cost of change.
But often, that’s not the case.
Staying the same is infinitely more comfortable.
And yet, we come to therapy because something within us knows we want to change.
But what does that change actually look like?
The depressed person doesn’t want to be depressed.
The anxious person doesn’t want to feel anxious.
The person with OCD doesn’t want to obsess anymore.
The “ADHDoer” doesn’t want to feel scattered all the time.
The person carrying emotional or physical weight doesn’t want to feel so heavy.
But the alternative often feels so distant it’s hard to even imagine it.
It’s like thinking about winning the lottery, the numbers are so big your mind can’t grasp what life would look like with that kind of abundance.
And yet, we play.
It’s the same with emotional change: the idea of living with calm, clarity, or joy can feel too extravagant to be real.
“How could I possibly live in any other way than how I am right now? Would that even be me?”
The forest, the fear, and the first steps
Often, change is like standing at the edge of a dense forest.
You know there’s light on the other side, but you can’t see the path.
And every step into the unknown feels like betrayal to the version of you who survived the darkness.
But it’s exactly in those uncertain steps that the life we desire begins to unfold.
“The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.”
— Joseph Campbell
Wanting change isn’t enough
Starting therapy takes courage.
But once you’ve taken that first step, a much greater one awaits:
→ Actively working toward the change you want to see.
It means moving beyond “look at what life did to me” into
“and this is what I’m doing with it.”
That’s not easy.
We’re not used to self-initiated change.
We adapt when life forces us to, through grief, heartbreak, birth, or relocation.
But the quiet, conscious choice to evolve? That’s rare.
Unless you’ve felt that inner nudge (often ignited by self-love and creative energy) the one that pushes you to move countries, start something new, or finally face what’s been waiting for your attention.
Change starts with imagination
Wanting to change who you are today is not enough.
If you want real change, you must visualise what you’re changing into.
Ask yourself:
What’s the other side of depression?
What does calm look like after anxiety?
Who would you be if you didn’t need to obsess?
How would a lighter version of you look and move and breathe?
You need to imagine that version of yourself before you can grow into it.
You need to see your future self before you can become them.
Your old self doesn’t die, and maybe that’s a good thing
When the new version of you begins to emerge, the old one doesn’t just disappear.
It lingers, not to sabotage — but to remind you of what you’ve overcome.
If you treat it with kindness, it may stop shouting and start guiding.
It becomes the roots beneath your growth, not the weeds trying to strangle it.
Ideally, they learn to coexist.
Not as enemies, but as companions.
So your evolution feels like a gentle dance — a transition marked not by grief, but by celebration.
Before you take action, pause to reflect
What would it feel like to live as someone who isn’t driven by fear, or shame, or old survival scripts?
Who would you become if you stopped waiting for permission to change?
Start there.
In your mind.
In your journal.
In your therapy session.
Begin building the image of that self.
That version of you is already waiting.
If you're ready to take a step forward, start here:
Five Questions to Begin Changing Your Life
What do you want?
What kind of life are you longing for? Who do you want to become?What are you doing?
What patterns, habits, or behaviors shape your days right now?Is it working?
Are those choices bringing you closer to the life you want?What do you gain by staying the same?
What kind of comfort, safety, or familiarity does the current version of you provide?What is the cost of not changing?
What parts of your life, health, joy, or future are you slowly sacrificing?
Take your time with these questions.
Write them down.
Let your answers surprise you.
✨ Change begins the moment you stop waiting for it.
Thank you for reading.
If something in this story touched a part of you — a memory, a dream, a quiet truth — I’d love to stay connected.
You can subscribe for more reflections on change, identity, and the art of becoming.
And if you're curious about how I work as a psychologist and psychotherapist, you’re welcome to visit anabatista.com.
It's like you wrote this post directly to me. When I started therapy I was trying to figure out how to change others. The notion I needed to change anything myself, or about myself, was completely foreign. But maybe that's just the wall I built...I'm an exceptional wall builder...to protect myself. Thank you for this.
I also read your post on highs and lows. "What if calm isn’t just a mood, or a state,
but a skill?" Seriously, what if? I can do a lot with that.
I'm just beginning to write about my therapy experience. Almost a transcript. I had no idea how any of this worked or how I could benefit, and there is no doubt there are a lot of men like me who have no idea what they're missing.
Here's the link if you're interested. And thanks again.
https://whatwouldsarahsay.substack.com/p/the-toad-and-the-bunnies