For many musicians, creatives and performers, the stage feels like home. It’s a place of connection, catharsis, and recognition. But what happens when your sense of self-worth becomes fused with how well you perform, how loud the applause is, how many people show up, or how much praise you receive?

It’s not always obvious. It can feel like drive, ambition, a standard. But beneath that can live a more fragile truth: if you’re only as good as your last performance, your worth starts to feel conditional.

Many of us are taught explicitly or implicitly that putting others first is a sign of strength, goodness, or selflessness. And to some extent, it is. Caring deeply, being reliable, offering support these are all meaningful and valuable parts of being in relationship with others.

But what happens when this becomes a pattern that leaves no room for ourselves?

When we consistently prioritise other people’s needs, feelings, and expectations above our own, something quiet but significant can begin to happen: we lose touch with what we need, what we feel, and who we are.

If you’ve ever wondered why your therapist sticks firmly to things like session time, cancellations, or appointment frequency, you’re not alone. At first glance, these boundaries might seem inflexible or even impersonal, especially in a space that’s meant to feel open, warm, and human.

But here’s the thing: the boundaries in therapy are part of the therapy. They’re not rules for the sake of control — they’re the invisible frame that holds the work safely.