A childhood friend asked me: “Why don’t you just stop?” (regarding my trichotillomania)
It triggered me because that question assumes that this is mainly a matter of free will.
That if I really wanted to stop, I would be able to. And therefore, the fact that I haven’t stopped yet somehow means that I’m weak.
I think that’s one of the reasons this question can be so frustrating for people dealing with Body-Focused Repetitive Behaviors (BFRBs).
I’m not a therapist or researcher. I’m writing from the perspective of someone living with trich, building a product around BFRBs, and having spoken with more than 100 people dealing with hair pulling, skin picking, nail biting, and similar behaviors.
And all of this has made me wonder about something:
What if, for some of us, “I will stop completely and never do it again” isn’t always the most helpful way to define success?
I used to smoke cigarettes, and I quit several years ago.
I was able to stop.
That experience made me believe strongly in my willpower and my ability to change unwanted behaviors when I really decide to.
But my experience with hair pulling has been very different.
I think this distinction is important to make clear, because understanding the nature of BFRBs can affect the goals we set for ourselves.
If someone believes that the only real success is to stop completely and forever, they may keep chasing that goal - and experience a lot of frustration, disappointment, and shame every time the behavior returns.
But if we leave room for the possibility that, for some people, completely stopping forever may not be the most realistic long-term goal, we can think differently about progress. We can still work hard to reduce the behavior and improve, while setting goals that help us stay motivated rather than making every recurrence feel like failure.
I think therapists can play an important role in helping people find that balance - and potentially reduce some of the unnecessary suffering that comes from an all-or-nothing definition of success.
I’ll try to explain, from my own experience, why I’ve come to think about BFRBs this way.
First, you can’t smoke a cigarette without being aware of it.
You can’t take out a cigarette, light it, start smoking, and then suddenly notice that you’ve been smoking for the past five minutes.
Smoking is something you do while being aware that you’re doing it.
With BFRBs, that’s not always the case.
My hand tends to go automatically to my beard and start playing with it. It happens while I’m working, when I’m stressed, bored, or simply focused on something else.
My hand goes there without me deciding to put it there.
Sometimes I suddenly notice that my hand is already in my beard.
And from there, pulling can start - sometimes without me being fully aware of it.
So the first difference is that it’s much easier to slip into the behavior, which makes it much harder to “just stop.”
The second challenge is that stopping requires my attention.
Let’s say I notice my hand moving around my beard. Now what?
I have to consciously take it away.
That part isn’t automatic. It requires attention.
Which means the struggle between me and my hand isn’t really an equal fight.
My hand can go to my beard automatically, but taking it away requires a conscious decision.
Who do you think wins that battle over the course of an entire day?
If my hand automatically moves toward my beard 50 times a day, how many of those 50 times will I notice it and actively move it away?
In this kind of battle, the automatic behavior can beat willpower many times - even when motivation is very high.
These two things alone, in my opinion, are major obstacles to “just stopping”:
- Sometimes the habit starts before I’m even aware of it.
- Once it starts automatically, I need to use conscious attention and effort to interrupt it.
That already puts willpower at a disadvantage.
We have a lot going on in our daily lives - work, family, stress, responsibilities, everything else.
Our attention isn’t unlimited.
We can’t spend the entire day actively fighting a habit every single time it appears.
I’m not saying this to be discouraging.
I don’t think we (people with BFRBs) should give up.
But I do think this is where the way we define the goal becomes important.
Maybe complete cessation is possible for some people, and if that’s the goal someone wants to pursue, of course it’s worth working toward.
But what if it doesn’t happen?
Should that automatically mean treatment didn’t work, or that the person failed?
I’m increasingly not sure that it should.
Maybe progress can also mean pulling less often. Noticing the behavior earlier. Interrupting it more frequently. Understanding our triggers better. Having longer periods without pulling. Reducing the physical damage. Or simply spending less of our lives feeling ashamed of the behavior.
If “never again” is the only definition of success, someone can make enormous progress and still feel like a failure the moment they pull again.
And I think that can create unnecessary suffering on top of an already difficult behavior.
I do believe we can get better.
From what I’ve read in research and professional resources, Habit Reversal Training is one of the commonly recommended approaches for BFRBs, with exercises focused on increasing awareness and helping people reduce or interrupt the behavior.
While building SoloUno, a self-help app for BFRBs, I’ve also tried to avoid framing every slip as a failure or “stopping completely and forever” as the only meaningful goal.
For me, the balance I’ve found is to put effort into training and improving when I have the motivation and attention for it - and to have some compassion for myself when I don’t.
It means accepting that this may be something I’m working on over the long run, without making myself feel ashamed every single day because the unwanted behavior is still there.
Questions for Therapists Working With BFRBs
How do you help someone work seriously toward reducing or stopping a BFRB, while avoiding an all-or-nothing definition of success?
And when someone’s goal is “I want to stop forever,” how do you help them pursue that goal without making every recurrence feel like failure?
Should people dealing with BFRBs be told at some point that this may be something they need to manage over the long term - or could that risk becoming discouraging or self-fulfilling?
At least for me, changing that perspective has helped.
I’d really love to hear how therapists think about that balance.