I've only been to therapy once, and it did help a bit, but this book literally gave me so many revelations it is worth every penny. And if you can't afford therapy, it's a wonderful alternative!

The book (by Lori Gottlieb) is not about attachment styles, and it doesn't use the usual lingo, but you can identify the characters' attachment styles if you pay attention. It isn't aimed at healing your attachment wounds, it's more of a summary of the therapy process, how therapy works, about life, about childhood wounds, about limiting beliefs etc.

Granted, to make most of this book, you have to read it with an open mind and probably way more than once. It will not be useful if you're just running through it and not really taking it in. But if you read it with an open mind, truly questioning whatever you take as truth, and consider and reread passages that you might not understand, it will give you a starting point on identifying your own issues and how to start dealing with them, while understanding and having compassion for people who are dealing with different problems.

A few quotes that stayed with me long after I finished.

"“I’m reminded,” he begins, “of a famous cartoon. It’s of a prisoner, shaking the bars, desperately trying to get out—but to his right and left, it’s open, no bars.” He pauses, allowing the image to sink in. “All the prisoner has to do is walk around. But still, he frantically shakes the bars. That’s most of us. We feel completely stuck, trapped in our emotional cells, but there’s a way out—as long as we’re willing to see it.” He lets that last part linger between us. As long as we’re willing to see it. He gestures to an imaginary prison cell with his hand, inviting me to see it. I look away, but I feel Wendell’s eyes on me. I sigh. Okay. I close my eyes and take a breath. I start by picturing the prison, a tiny cell with drab beige walls. I picture the metal bars, thick and gray and rusty. I picture myself in an orange jumpsuit, furiously shaking those bars, pleading for release. I picture my life in this tiny cell with nothing but the pungent smell of urine and the prospect of a dismal, constrained future. I imagine screaming, “Get me out of here! Save me!” I envision myself frantically looking to my right, then to my left, then doing one hell of a double take. I notice my whole body respond; I feel lighter, like a thousandpound weight has been lifted, as the realization hits me: You are your own jailer. I open my eyes and glance at Wendell. He raises his right eyebrow as if to say, I know—you see. I saw you see. “Keep looking,” he whispers. I close my eyes again. Now I’m walking around the bars and heading toward the exit, moving tentatively at first, but as I get closer to it, I start to run. Outside, I can feel my feet on the ground, the breeze on my skin, the sun’s warmth on my face. I’m free! I run as fast as I can, then after a while I slow down and check behind me. No prison guards are giving chase. It occurs to me that there were no prison guards to begin with. Of course! Most of us come to therapy feeling trapped—imprisoned by our thoughts, behaviors, marriages, jobs, fears, or past. Sometimes we imprison ourselves with a narrative of self-punishment. If we have a choice between believing one of two things, both of which we have evidence for—I’m unlovable, I’m lovable—often we choose the one that makes us feel bad. Why do we keep our radios tuned to the same static-ridden stations (the everyone’s-life-isbetter-than-mine station, the I-can’t-trust-people station, the nothing-worksout-for-me station) instead of moving the dial up or down? Change the station. Walk around the bars. Who’s stopping us but ourselves? There is a way out—as long as we’re willing to see it. A cartoon, of all things, has taught me the secret of life. "

"One of the most important steps in therapy is helping people take responsibility for their current predicaments, because once they realize that they can (and must) construct their own lives, they’re free to generate change. Often, though, people carry around the belief that the majority of their problems are circumstantial or situational—which is to say, external. And if the problems are caused by everyone and everything else, by stuff out there, why should they bother to change themselves? Even if they decide to do things differently, won’t the rest of the world still be the same? It’s a reasonable argument. But that’s not how life generally works. Remember Sartre’s famous line “Hell is other people”? It’s true—the world is filled with difficult people (or, as John would have it, “idiots”). I’ll bet you could name five truly difficult people off the top of your head right now—some you assiduously avoid, others you would assiduously avoid if they didn’t share your last name. But sometimes—more often than we tend to realize—those difficult people are us. That’s right—sometimes hell is us. Sometimes we are the cause of our difficulties. And if we can step out of our own way, something astonishing happens.”

"As a therapist, I know a lot about pain, about the ways in which pain is tied to loss. But I also know something less commonly understood: that change and loss travel together. We can’t have change without loss, which is why so often people say they want change but nonetheless stay exactly the same. "

“But part of getting to know yourself is to unknow yourself—to let go of the limiting stories you’ve told yourself about who you are so that you aren’t trapped by them, so you can live your life and not the story you’ve been telling yourself about your life.”

“Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

“The inability to say no is largely about approval-seeking—people imagine that if they say no, they won’t be loved by others. The inability to say yes, however—to intimacy, a job opportunity, an alcohol program—is more about lack of trust in oneself. Will I mess this up? Will this turn out badly? Isn’t it safer to stay where I am?”

If you're struggling, if you're looking to understand yourself and others, give this book a try! It was a life-changing read for me for sure.