Some part of me has always felt unique, but I’ve never been able to pinpoint what it was. When you’re trying to be a supportive peer in third grade and your report card reads, “Melanie was talking to Charles in the corner again, giving him advice instead of paying attention,” it’s easy to start seeing yourself as ‘bad’. Years later, though, I see now that this is completely wrong. My entire life had been a confusing maze before I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD). The only way I could get out of my own head was by pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I found myself overweight, masking, overstimulating, people-pleasing, perpetually distracted from reality, spending money impulsively, binge-eating , and eventually ending up in Co-Dependents Anonymous. At what point did this girl finally feel like she was enough? Do we ever feel like we are enough with BPD?

   Nine years ago, emotionally numb, suicidal, and overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions, my sister convinced me to get help before it was too late. I will never forget the psychiatrist I initially met with. I caught her eye as she uttered the words, ‘borderline personality disorder’ and handed me a massive booklet with ‘BPD’ in large letters on the front. The words baffled me. I was confused, yet relieved – was what I suffered with actually a legitimate thing? I had never encountered the term before, and immediately began a research journey, only to again arrive at a dead end. I was frustrated by limited information, therapist waitlists, and a sense that my condition was not well understood. From that point on, I refused to give up on the hope that someone or something would provide assistance. I began advocating for myself by reaching out to every centre, therapist, and DBT group listed in the pamphlet, and then expanded beyond it, exploring other pathways like somatic breathwork, cognitive behavioral therapy, schema therapy, and many more forms of support. 

   It would be inaccurate to say that I found these early stages of my therapeutic process to be effortless or that I enjoyed every minute of this journey; however, I would not have had it any other way, as I worked with so many amazing clinicians and support groups. Why Rae of Light? My grandmother Rae was diagnosed with bipolar disease and likely would have been diagnosed with BPD as well had there been an understanding of the illness in her lifetime, which would have improved the quality of her life. The motto is a testament to her strength, struggles, and courage. I made a promise spiritually and swore to devote the rest of my life helping those who were going through similar issues to myself.