Category: Featured

We’re proud to share this month’s editorial address by EDBTA President Martin Bohus, originally published in our July 2025 Newsletter which can be received by your local DBT Association. Presented here in full, we believe this piece deserves a wider audience. It captures the spirit of our community and reflects the values that unite us across borders.

On July 11th, 2025, the Brazilian DBT Association hosted a moving two-hour online celebration to mark the release of the Portuguese translation of Marsha Linehan’s biography. I had the honor of giving a short speech during the event—one that might also be of interest to our European DBT community.

Dear friends, dear colleagues, dear fellow travelers,

Thank you, truly, for inviting me to be part of this remarkable event—this celebration of the Brazilian publication of Marsha Linehan’s biography. It is more than a book launch. It is a moment of recognition, of remembrance, and of reverence for a woman whose life’s work has changed countless others.

The very fact that we are here today—gathered across countries, cultures, and languages—already says so much. It says something about Marsha’s impact, yes. But more than that, it says something about the kind of community she inspired—and continues to inspire.

I was reminded of this recently at the first European DBT Congress, which we held earlier this year in Gdańsk, Poland. On the opening day, more than 600 people filled the seats of a beautiful, post-socialist theatre hall. And in a moment of quiet awe, the room fell still as Geraldine Rodriguez, Marsha’s daughter, appeared on screen—speaking to us from Marsha’s old office in Seattle.

Her words were heartfelt, personal, and deeply moving. And as I listened, I couldn’t help but wonder:

What brings hundreds of people together—people who never met Marsha in person, who never shook her hand—and yet feel so profoundly connected to her and to one another?

How is it that in that room, among people from different countries and backgrounds, there was a sense of emotional resonance so strong, it felt as if we all belonged to the same family?

The answer, I believe, lies in something we might call a shared DBT mindset. A quiet, unspoken understanding. And perhaps, if we try to describe this mindset more closely, we can get a little closer to the spirit that Marsha embodied.

At the heart of this DBT mindset is, without a doubt, compassion.

We are therapists. Helpers. Listeners. We are people who, in one way or another, have committed our lives to being present with human suffering—not to turn away from it, not to deny it away, but to meet it, gently and courageously.

We understand that pain is part of life. But we also carry within us a kind of gentle rebellion—a refusal to accept suffering as inevitable. A drive to do something about it. To use everything we know—our science, our experience, our skills—to reduce suffering wherever we can. Not just to cope, but to change.

This is what makes the DBT community so alive. It is always fed by two great rivers:
The humble recognition of human vulnerability, and the fierce commitment to growth.

This duality also lived in Marsha herself.

She was a woman of great contrasts—of tension and vitality. She often spoke about feeling alienated—from herself, from others, from the world. She often spoke to me about her constant, unquenchable longing for a sense of home—a homesickness for others—that caused her deep suffering.

And yet, this very estrangement gave her the unique ability to turn a curious, observing eye inward. She became her own subject, her own research case.

And yes—she was a scientist. A brilliant one. But let’s not forget that her first study was n=1: herself. A bold and radical act.

From that deep self-exploration, she built something extraordinary—not just a therapy, but a philosophy. A language for healing. And through that, she found not only insight, but courage.

The courage to challenge authority. The courage to stand up—as a young woman, as a psychologist, as a behavioral therapist—against the rigid power structures of traditional psychiatry. Against men in suits and leather chairs, who held tight to old models of personality disorders. And she took them on on their own battlefield—and she won.

She won not just because DBT was effective, not only because it worked in clinical trials, but because it reached hearts. Because it spoke a language that patients understood. Because it gave people who had long felt broken or unworthy a new message:

And that message was not just a slogan—it was a radical act of hope.

“If I can make it, you can make it.”

A hope rooted not in illusion, but in lived experience. In the idea that life could be more than just the absence of pain. That we are not here simply to survive. We are here to build lives of meaning, connection, and purpose.

Marsha believed in the idea of a life worth living, grounded in the courageous acceptance of suffering.
A life that includes others. A life that serves something greater than itself.
And she believed—fiercely—that none of us can do that alone.

That is the real gift of this community. The sense that we can carry each other. That together, we can hold things that would crush us alone.

And maybe this is exactly what we need most right now—in a time when individualism is sold as strength, and cynicism often passes for wisdom. In a world where late capitalism threatens to erode our sense of connection, where performance is valued more than presence, and where vulnerability is seen as weakness—we need something else.

We need Compassion—as a stance, a skill, and a form of resistance.

We need sensitivity to the vulnerable,
solidarity with the silenced,
and a good measure of righteous anger, channeled into meaningful action.

Because DBT has long since become more than just a therapy.
It is a practice of life, and a practice of care.
It is, in the deepest sense, both an art worth living—and an art worth fighting for.

Thank you,

Martin

Compassion Above Everything Else

From the moment Martin Bohus opened the congress with the words “DBT is more than psychotherapy—it’s a way of living, a political act, and an expression of solidarity”, the tone was set: this gathering in Gdańsk, Poland would not only advance clinical knowledge, but also speak to the heart of what brings us all to DBT—our shared commitment to reduce suffering, and to do so with skill and compassion.

Over three days, clinicians, researchers, and individuals with lived experience came together to reflect, challenge, celebrate, and grow. Michaela Swales shared powerful insights on implementation, reminding us that teams need systems that support them—because sustainability and structure are the foundation for change. Julieta Azevedo gave a forward-looking plenary on the state of DBT research, calling us to expand our evidence base and methods to reach those still too often left out.

The congress also sparked conversations in areas where DBT continues to grow. Sarah Biedermann’s work on sexuality and BPD invited us to reflect on what we may hesitate to name, and how healing must include the whole person. Luisa Weiner and Anne Huntjens made a compelling case for adapting DBT for autistic clients, reminding us that validation must always meet people where they are. Jake Camp helped us think more deeply about LGBTQ+ inclusion, safe spaces, and what truly affirmative therapy looks like.

And then there were moments that asked us to slow down and truly sit with the hardest questions. The symposium on assisted dying in the context of personality disorder, led by Christian Schmahl, Ann Berens, Ellen Clifford, and Lars Mehlum, was one such space. It reminded us that our work is not only clinical—it is profoundly ethical. The call was clear: no one should be asked to choose death without having first been offered effective, compassionate care.

While this recap touches only a fraction of what unfolded in Gdańsk, we want to express deep gratitude to every presenter, workshop leader, and participant who contributed to this extraordinary event. From intensive diary card sessions to team leadership consultations, from mindfulness to family interventions, and from discussions on dissociation to systemic barriers in care—each offering added richness and depth.

The congress closed with the Nada te turbe dance—a moving tribute to Marsha Linehan and a beautiful reminder that DBT is not just a method; it’s a way of walking with others through suffering toward life worth living.

See you in Italy, May 13–15, 2027. Until then, let’s keep the connection alive.