How Labeling Myself as ‘Borderline’ Actually Empowers Me

We are often told in mental health treatments and therapy to not label ourselves as the diagnosis, to see ourselves as “more than a label.” I can certainly appreciate this, and how this can be an important perspective which I have applied in my own life in the past. However, at this stage in my borderline personality disorder (BPD) recovery journey, I have come to understand that calling myself “borderline” and labeling myself can be positive, leading to deeper self-love, self-compassion, and understanding of myself.

I firmly believe in the importance of treatment and therapy for BPD. It’s is a severe, and life-threatening mental illness, so I am careful not to glamorize it. I have experienced pain from being borderline. But, I have also experienced beauty from being emotionally sensitive and intense. And I personally believe the beauty and the bruises of “being borderline” come from the same place in my lived experience. However, BPD is a complex disorder, with a variety of presentations and ways it impacts people’s lives.

I believe I have always been “borderline.” Even before having a diagnosis, I have had traits since childhood. Denying my borderline self would be ignoring parts of me that have seemed to always be there. I don’t feel I “caught it.” Borderline has always been a part of me in one way or another.

Many theories about BPD support that there is some biological component to the disorder. Emotional reactivity and emotional sensitivity are said to have some biological basis. I use skills every day to manage my emotions, and I am eternally grateful for dialectical behavior therapy (DBT) skills which help me and many people with BPD live meaningful lives. These skills save lives and I am in no way devaluing the role of treatment in BPD recovery. And, with these amazing tools in my kit and all the work I have put into therapy, I know that deep down the way I relate to the world and experience my surroundings is still “not like everyone else.” Being able to call myself “borderline” gives me the language to relate my experiences to others whom also carry the name, “borderline.”

Labeling also helps me with understanding and compassion toward my past. For example, while not diagnosed as a child, I do know I was a child who feared abandonment, developed intense friendships with kids, and would attach to my teachers and adults at school, fearing their rejection, and becoming devastated if I thought friends or teachers were rejecting me.  I felt everything strongly and my mood could change very fast depending on circumstances in my environment.

As an adult, I am very much still a person who fears abandonment, feels intensely in relationships, and my mood can switch rapidly. These ways of being and feeling and relating are parts of BPD for some people, and they have always been there for me. At times, I have been able to manage them more skillfully, because of  factors such as access to support, nurturing environments, and learning skills. But, these traits have still always been there, and are still a part of my life, I just understand these traits better now, which is really important for me in being able to live a meaningful recovery.

Having the language and understanding of BPD as an adult is helpful and healing. I can look back and label traits I would understand as “borderline” as “part of me,” allowing for greater compassion for my young self and my current self.

I didn’t choose BPD, and because I am “borderline” I need certain conditions to flourish. Labeling myself allows me to touch the past and present with a gentler care and warmth that telling myself I am “not my label” doesn’t provide for me. My label does matter. Labeling myself allows me to access the right care and understand why I have certain struggles and strengths..

 I am grateful for learning skills that help me live the best life I can, and for the help I am able to access to navigate the world with this mind, body, and soul of mine that is borderline. It is not always easy, but by judging myself, trying to “solve me,” or erase my label, I become less effective at participating in the world in a way that is meaningful for myself and others.

My borderline is here to stay, and “she” is not always easy to have around, to understand and to manage. But she is is brave, and she is beautiful. She is dearly loved, she is beloved.

She is borderline, She is me.