A New Play About BPD! 'The Love We Think We Deserve' by Anna Bontovics
- Rosie
- 19 minutes ago
- 8 min read
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of chatting with Anna Bontovics (they/them), also known as Nush, about their new play about BPD entitled The Love We Think We Deserve. I was so excited when Anna got in touch with me at the end of summer to tell me about their important show. The Love We Think We Deserve has my huge respect for several reasons, but first and foremost it's the first piece of theatre I’ve ever come across to shine a spotlight on the BPD diagnosis.
I was curious what had inspired Anna to create a theatre piece about a little-talked-about, often misunderstood, mental health diagnosis— and keen to know their hopes for its impact. It was fascinating to talk with Anna so, with their permission, we thought we would publish a condensed written version of our conversation for Talking About BPD readers. I imagine some of you will be just as interested as I was to learn that there are individuals like Anna working on a play like this.
Please note that this post mention of historical suicide of a famous figure.
Hi Anna, would you like to introduce yourself to the blog readers?
I’m Anna Bontovics (they/them), also known as ‘Nush’. I’m a queer, neurodivergent, working class actor-puppeteer, theatre-maker, physical performer and writer from Hungary.
I’m a hardworking performer and creative who's been living in the UK since 2021 and I’m a 2025 acting graduate of The Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts (LIPA), as well as their first Hungarian acting graduate. I’m in the process of starting my own theatre company alongside seeking representation as an actor.
The Love We Think We Deserve is both my debut show as a writer and my first solo show.
Could you tell us a little about The Love We Think We Deserve, as it’s the only show I’ve ever encountered with the BPD diagnosis as its focus?
The Love We Think We Deserve is a bold, thought-provoking, authentic and experimental show about people living with borderline personality disorder (BPD), how they experience the world and the daily struggles they face.
Studies show that about 1 in a 100 people live with BPD, yet it is one of the most misunderstood and stigmatized mental health conditions. Online searches will often reinforce harmful stereotypes and many articles on the diagnosis advise you how to ‘spot borderlines’– so you can avoid them– as you describe in your book Talking About BPD.
With this play, I aim to facilitate a somewhat immersive experience to ‘simulate’ what living with BPD feels like. I strive to contribute to breaking down the stigma bit by bit, through educating people and giving an insight into how individuals with BPD feel everything more intensely than their neurotypical peers. I keep a hopeful tone at the same time as not shying away from challenging topics. I don’t want people to walk out of the auditorium with sadness and hopelessness in their hearts, but, in my opinion, the only worthwhile way to talk about this is with absolute honesty and without sugarcoating.
If you had only three words to describe your play, what would they be?
Unapologetic. Vulnerable. Honest.
I’d love to know what inspired you to create this play.
Before I realised my calling was in acting, I actually wanted to be a therapist. From the beginning of my journey in actor training, I often got the feedback that I’m always covering therapeutic material, for example using my past trauma or healing to create and shape stories.
Sometimes I encountered negative feedback for this, so I had to learn ways of storytelling that would keep my audience safe whilst also giving them an honest insight into my headspace and soul. For a long, long time, I couldn’t figure out why everyday things that my peers could just brush off hurt me immensely. Everything seemed to be way more intense for me than ‘normal’: my passion, my love, my sadness, my joy or my anger— It was all just too much.
Then, at the age of 20 and before the first lockdown, I got diagnosed with BPD. Until that point, I believed the horrible things I read online about BPD. Hearing this diagnosis was liberating— finding out what was “wrong” with me— but it also felt like a permanent mark, as if the words ‘monster’ or ‘freak’ were stamped in scarlet letters on my forehead.
I also struggled with accepting it. Like you describe in your book, the phrase ‘personality disorder’ made me feel like there was something fundamentally wrong with who I was as a person. Whilst my anxiety or depression were just things I ‘had’, my personality is myself.
The only reference point I had was one of Hungary’s greatest poets, Attila József—a personal favourite of mine. Despite his genius, he was known for having an awful temper and passed away at a young age. Whilst some say his death may have been an accident, others suggest he died from suicide. Attila Józsefa was the first person I thought of after receiving the diagnosis and this made me feel pretty hopeless.
‘The Suffering Artist’ is also a massively romanticised trope in Hungary, relating to the idea that without suffering you cannot create exceptional art. Luckily, I’ve seen an active effort to debunk this extremely toxic myth and stereotype in the UK industry.
Could you talk a little about how you brought the play to fruition?
The initial idea for the play came to me in a very different format in 2021. I wanted to provide an insight into how I feel everything more intensely, using the autobiographical snippets I’ve been jotting down since my diagnosis about various emotional experiences.
I planned to string these ‘autobiographical snippets’ to the lifecycle of a romantic relationship with my dancer friend. I wanted to perform a physical duet with the pre-recorded words of these ‘autobiographical snippets’, played as an underscore to the movement.
However, life happened and I got temporarily heavily disabled and my friend and I ended up not being able to work with my friend for logistical reasons that were outside of our control. I had to start re-interpreting my work into a solo show and that’s when you came in, Rosie! I’ve always loved ‘nerding out’ and creating research-based theatre, so when my counsellor lent me a copy of Talking about BPD my approach to the material shifted drastically.
After reading your book, I wanted to make my show more factual and educational, covering more people’s experiences and stories instead of solely my own. From then on, the play just started writing itself; the jigsaw pieces from different sources fitting themselves together. I also started experimenting with different ways in which to tell this story.
Do you think drama can convey the experiences associated with BPD in ways that other forms of art or communication can’t?
I think so. Reading your book has been a lovely experience, intellectual, but also emotional. Reading articles and doing research will most often be a majorly intellectual process.
I wanted to create something immersive which gives insight into what thinking and, more importantly, feeling, is like for us and how we [people with BPD] experience the world. Whilst this is of course different for everyone, in the case of people with BPD this differs more greatly from our neurotypical peers’ point of view. Of course a film or a TV show can feel equally immersive, but I think that having the audience and the storyteller in the same space is something very special, especially because it enables interaction. I don’t want to spoil anything, but there are interactive elements to my show, so no two performances will be identical. In theatre you can make new discoveries during every showing.
What do you hope audiences will get from your play?
I’m hoping the audience members who have never heard of BPD— or who know very little about the condition— will do a little bit of research on it, but take the harmful depictions with a (big) pinch of salt. I hope that if they encounter people with this diagnosis in the future, they won’t write them off as stereotypes or have prejudice, or fewer prejudices, against them.
For anyone present who has a loved one with BPD or any personality disorder, I’d like them to feel seen, appreciated and less alone in the often challenging task of supporting their loved one(s). For any viewers who have BPD themselves, I want them to know and feel that they’re not alone. That their pain is real and their struggles are valid. That they’re lovable and they deserve to be loved by themselves and others.
The show’s title originates from Stephen Chbosky’s 1999 novel The Perks of Being a Wallflower. In the novel, a teacher tells protagonist Charlie, ‘[W]e accept the love we think we deserve.’
At age 18 I didn’t fully understand this yet. Around half a year after my diagnosis, I realised what I think he meant and it’s a life changing principle I strive to live by. In order to find the people who are right for me (either platonic friends or romantic partners), I need to truly believe that I’m loveable and worthy, and stop accepting mistreatment disguised as love. This is easier said than done though, especially in a society that conditions us to believe we’re unlovable and problematic.
If I provoke a thought, challenge a negative preconception or provide a cathartic experience for someone, then I’ve accomplished my goal— and it was all worth it. In a nutshell, I want The Love We Think We Deserve to be educational or even therapeutic to my audience. I also want people to talk about BPD instead of making it a taboo topic. My favourite quote from Talking About BPD that has empowered me beyond belief is: ‘I am not the other. I am one of you. Speak about me as if I were in the room— because I am.’
I wondered if you would describe your work as ‘anti-stigma’ or ‘activist’, or not?
My main aim with this play, and the reason I’ve created it at all, is to help contribute to the destigmatization of this condition— in the way that I personally can. I’m not sure whether it counts as activism, or whether I feel up to that task, but I’ve always had immense respect for (mental health and other) activists, especially people who speak out for the most stigmatized mental and physical conditions and the most vulnerable groups of people.
What is your biggest wish for people with this diagnosis?
To have equal opportunities. To not be defined by their diagnosis. To not be treated as troublesome individuals who are better avoided. To be able to live happy and fulfilling lives, while they tackle the inevitable challenges. To not feel alone or like they’re broken, not good enough, that there’s something fundamentally wrong with them or who they are. To love themselves and be respected and loved by others. I’d like to thank you Rosie for being so fearless and paving the way for the rest of us with your book: it has truly changed my life.
Anna, thank you so much for taking the time to share more about your play with me. I wish you every success with The Love We Think We Deserve and your further creative work.
The Love We Think We Deserve is showing on 19th, 20th and 21st December 2025 The Etcetera Theatre in London. Tickets are available here. Anna is also open to requests to perform in a variety of venues and is able to share a detailed list of content warnings.
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Photo credit: Jacob Turbull Photography
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