About Lori

Lori A. Strayer, M.Ed., LPC

I have spent my career in a college counseling center, which means I have spent it with people at a very particular moment: the year or two when the job of caring for them quietly transfers from their parents to themselves. Nobody announces the handoff. Most people don’t notice it has happened until something goes wrong.

That is where the idea in this book came from. Working with young adults, I kept seeing the same thing — bright, capable people speaking to themselves in a voice no decent parent would use on a child, and then wondering why they felt worthless. One afternoon I tried an experiment with a client I call Paul, asking him to imagine an eight-year-old version of himself in the chair beside him. He wept, and then he got better. I have been building on that moment ever since.

Why a parent, and not a friend

Plenty of good books tell you to be your own friend. I don’t think that’s quite the relationship we have with ourselves. A friend has no duty to you. A friend can’t put you to bed at a decent hour or make you go to the doctor. But a parent has both love and obligation — and that combination is exactly what our internal relationship requires.

There are other fine models for this. Freud had his three parts, Internal Family Systems has its many, and decades of self-help has had the child within. What struck me about the parent-and-child framing is how little it has to explain. We already know instinctively what a good parent would do. Our hearts can intuit what a child probably needs. You don’t have to learn a new vocabulary to use it — you just have to be willing to turn it around and point it at yourself.

It is also a non-pathological model. It spends very little time on illness and most of its time on alignment: getting the inside of your life properly ordered so the outside has something to stand on.

What I believe about self-care

I believe taking excellent care of yourself is not selfish, for four unglamorous reasons: you are in the best position to do it, frankly no one else particularly wants the job, caring for yourself first puts you in a stronger position to care for anyone else, and the world could genuinely use more solid people.

I also believe this kind of self-care is not candles and bubble baths. It is often uncomfortable. It means short-term discomfort for long-term results, setting limits, disappointing people you love, and doing the private, unphotographable work that nobody will ever applaud. It brings solidity, strength, contentment, and meaning. It does not bring instant bliss, and it is not something to brag about on social media.

About the stories in my work

Every client narrative in the book and on this site is a composite — several true stories braided together, with names, genders, ages, and circumstances significantly changed. The patterns are real. The people, as written, are not. Confidentiality matters more than a good anecdote.

A word of caution

Mental illness is real and it exists. This framework is a foundation, not a cure, and it does not claim to solve problems that come from systemic inequality, serious hardship, or serious illness — though I believe a better relationship with yourself helps in every one of those situations. If you are suicidal or you have the sense that you are not okay, do not wait. Getting extra support is a wise thing to do no matter what is causing the trouble.

If you are in crisis: call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline). For new and expecting parents: Postpartum Support International, 1-800-944-4773. In an emergency, call 911.

Personally

I live in central Pennsylvania. I have three grown children, and the dedication in this book is to them. I once quit smoking by telling absolutely no one — which turned out to be the most useful thing I have ever learned about how change actually works.