These were some words spoken by a therapist I drove a long way to see a while back. I only saw him for a short time but I had a lot to get off my chest. It can be hard for helpers to find helpers, teachers to find teachers, secret keepers to find secret keepers. So again, I had done a careful search and after booking, driven a long way. If the vibe was right, if I felt safe and respected, I would have much to say. 

It had been a difficult and humbling few months, years really, and to not have to polish or edit or spin anything coming up in my conscience and out of my mouth was a relief. He conveyed genuine warmth, unconditional regard, and zero judgment throughout my monologue. At the end of our first session, when he said, "You're in good company," I wondered if he had had my particular experience, and then I remembered I didn't get to or have to care what his story was. I could relate to my own story - I had to - and trust that he understood I was hurting and trying hard to figure things out. 

A client of mine a long time ago when I was a pre-licensed professional was going through so much in her life personally and professionally. She was incredibly smart and sensitive - and righteous. One session, I became the target of her anger - I don't remember why. Her words were sharp and fierce. They followed me home in a voicemail she left later on. I was a terrible therapist, she said in so many words, and should find another career. Ugh, I was upset about it all night. I would talk to my supervisor the next day and refer her to another therapist. 

At some point, I changed my mind. Quitting didn't feel right. This was part of the job, I knew on some level, so I had to keep showing up for this person. I called and left her a voicemail suggesting that we keep our next appointment. She came, and while I can't remember how we talked about what had happened, I know we were both surprised to be meeting again, and that it ended up going pretty well. 

Before I left the community mental health center where I had met with her, I asked all my clients what had worked well or not well in our sessions so I could transfer them to a therapist who would be a good fit. When I asked this woman those questions, she said, "You weren't afraid of me." I felt amused and glad, and decided to expressly admit, "Oh I was scared shitless. I just decided to feel my fear."

For all I know, this woman could have a completely different memory of how all this went down - that's of course ok. In any case, it was a good opportunity for me to practice being with my own fear out of what turns out to be a definitive wish to help others be with theirs.

The therapist I drove so far to see gave me the same gift I apparently gave that client - he wasn't afraid of me. He got me. He didn't rush to diagnosis, or dive into protocols, or gasp with shock at what I had to say, which all helped me face what I needed to. More than any professional advice or encouraging insight he shared, he kept me company during a hard chapter. This is part of the therapeutic alliance that, in my professional opinion and personal experience, can be empowering, precious, and rare.