By Nick Leung Kin Fai
Introduction: Turning the Lens Inside Out
Stepping onto the stage as a Trained Auxiliary Ego (TAE) under Dr. Kate (As trainer) and Step (As AL) was a massive turning point for me. In my beginning of psychodrama training, I was taught that the auxiliary is basically mirroring whatever the protagonist is going through. But TSM completely showed me that my own internal state, my body, and my feelings are actually a huge part of keeping the whole room safe.
Looking back at the intense roles I played, the heavy emotional projections, and the incredible safety I felt with the team, I can see how much this workshop challenged me. It forced me to face my habit of over-contributing and opened up a path toward real, unfiltered creative freedom.
The Safety of the Leadership Team: Mind-Reading in Action
Because this was my first real time acting as a TAE, the pressure I put on myself to be flawless was huge. But while our team warm-up started, that heavy weight began to lift. Working with Dr. Kate and Step felt like entering an incredibly secure bubble. There was this unspoken, deep synchronicity between us—it honestly felt like we could read each other’s minds during the action.
This deep sense of teamwork changed everything for me during workshop. In trauma work, if you don’t trust the directors holding the room, you instinctively hold back out of fear that the drama will fall apart or re-traumatize the protagonist. Knowing that Dr. Kate and Step had my back completely meant I could throw myself into whatever the role demanded, without any fear.
Role Expansion: Staying Present from Deep Inside the Character
My past training in role development was a lifesaver during this workshop. As TAE, you don’t turn down a role; you have to stay completely open to explore the protagonist’s painful material, even when it pushes your own boundaries.
Over those few days, I was called to step into completely opposite worlds—from the protective, grounding energy of a Containing Double and Body Double, to the raw, visceral pain of the Wounded Child and Victim roles.
A huge moment for me was playing the Victim under the chairs while two other group members were talking with their defenses. My training allowed me to completely turn off my internal critic and just feel the profound isolation of that moment.
By allowing myself to fully anchor in that physical vulnerability, the role felt entirely real. The authenticity of team members and participants is what helped the protagonist safely see and externalize their own split-off pain, rather than feeling like I was just “acting” to try and help them.
Facing My “Doodah” of Perfectionism: Learning to Just Rest
The most profound shift for me happened during our final team meeting, where Dr. Kate held up a mirror to my own defensive patterns. Because of my background as a social worker and organiser role of the workshop, my default survival mode—my personal “Doodah”—is to over-work, over-contribute, and carry everyone else’s weight. I had completely overloaded myself by trying to be a perfect organizer and sociometrist on top of being the only TAE.
My body gave me immediate, brutal feedback the second the workshop was over. My immune system collapsed, I got a horrible sinus infection, and all I could do was stay home and sleep for days.
Dr. Kate feedback during our wrap-up was incredibly healing. She shared her own story from graduate school, remembering how she was over-working while raising a baby in her previous time. The similarity of achieving perfection between us showed me that I actually don’t have to be perfect to be valued. Learning that it is okay to step back and let other Hong Kong fellow taking over the organizer role in the future was a massive weight off my shoulders.
Processing Projective Identification and Collective Sorrow
During the final dramas, we worked heavily with Projective Identification, and I had to contain and express both the absolute vulnerability of the Victim and the raw malice of the Perpetrator. It was an intense clinical stretch, but it taught me how to use my own emotional material to serve the group without getting swallowed up by the trauma triangle.
Stepping into those heavy spaces also allowed me to tap into and safely express the collective grief we were all carrying. The psychodramatic stage became a safe place where personal pain and community sorrow could come together and be released.
Dr. Kate personal apology during the review for not checking in on Step and me after a tragic accident in Hong Kong, touched my inner child deeply. It reminded me that in TSM, we aren’t just detached clinical machines; we are real people healing real people within an authentic, caring relationship.
Conclusion: Taking My Spontaneity into the Next Act
This TAE experience changed how I see my own practice. It proved to me that my protective energy is strong, and that I can hold a solid space as a Containing Double or a Body Double. But more importantly, it taught me that to be a great director, I have to protect my own boundaries first and stop carrying burdens that belong to others.
I am happily leaving the organizer role behind to focus entirely on the clinical training and work now. To round out my training, my next personal milestone is to learn to step into the Abandoning Authority role when the drama actually needs it.
