Page 3 of The Therapist
‘Go on,’ I encourage him.
‘I think she’s attracted to me.’
I laugh. ‘Well, that wouldn’t be the first time, Ben.’ It’s called transference, and it’s when a client redirects their feelings about someone in their life onto the therapist. I’ve had a couple of malepatients tell me they’re in love with me over the years, which I know better than to find flattering. It’s because we listen, we sympathise, we do everything they are hoping for from a person in their life they are having difficulty with. A therapist’s job is to help the patient understand that their feelings towards their therapist are not real and to use the situation to delve deeper into their patient’s life to see if they can identify why the feelings are occurring. A last resort, if the situation cannot be managed, is to end the relationship by referring the patient to another therapist.
‘I know,’ he rubs his jaw, ‘and we’ve discussed it and she seems to understand but the truth is…’
‘Is?’
‘I’m actually attracted to her as well, not that I’ve told her that at all, but I can see that this could go the wrong way. I’ve never been in a situation where I was attracted to the client as well.’
‘That is difficult,’ I say, even as I feel an unwelcome streak of jealousy run through me. I wish I could control it but I can’t so now I accept it. I was never beautiful or even pretty and I have always been aware, in every relationship I’ve been in, of other women around me. Still, I look very different to how I did in high school. So different that once, Iggy giggled and pointed at an old picture of me at my mother’s house, asking, ‘Who is that weird girl?’
‘It’s me,’ I told him, staring at the picture of myself standing on-stage, holding up my award for the highest grade for English in my final year of school. I wanted to cry for the awkward teenager still wearing braces at seventeen. My fellow students were more concerned with the formal school dance but I hadn’t been invited and had told my mother, ‘I don’t want to go anyway.’
My buck teeth have been fixed, my mousey brown hair dyed jet black, and I’ve lost a lot of weight. Though I let myself go in Bali and will now need to be vigilant to get back to the goal weight I spent years working towards.
I’ve changed but the insecurity remains. I suppose that’s what allows me to connect so well with my patients. I understand their worries and their fears because I am as human as they are, as complex as they are, and I know that everyone is fighting their own battles every day, including me.
I take a sip of the water on my desk, bringing my focus back to what Ben needs.
‘You should probably refer her somewhere else,’ I say.
‘I know but…’
‘What is it, Ben?’ I ask, curious. He’s not usually this hesitant.
‘She’s in a bad relationship with her husband, like it’s really bad, and I don’t want to send her off to see someone else because it’s taken her months to open up to me, to tell me what’s really going on, and I’m afraid if she has to go somewhere else, she won’t get the help she needs.’
‘Are you telling me that you want to keep seeing her? If that’s the case, why come and tell me about it? You know I’m going to tell you it’s a bad idea.’
Ben sighs. ‘Yeah…I mean, I know that already but I just…needed some help talking it through.’
‘I get that. It’s hard when you start to question yourself.’
‘Exactly,’ he says.
I understand Ben wanting a discussion about this decision on this patient but I think there is more that he wants to say.
He stares down at the beige speckled carpet in my office. ‘I don’t want to send this woman out into the world with no help. I want her to be able to trust someone immediately.’
I sit back in my desk chair and fold my arms. I need to leave in a few minutes to get Iggy. ‘What are you saying, Ben?’
‘Can you take her on? If you say yes, I can explain that I have…I don’t know, I’ll figure it out but at least I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about not seeing her anymore.’
I take a deep breath, rub my head where the headache still lingers. ‘No, Ben, no…I can’t do that. I already have a full patient list and I really can’t, especially when you’ve told me what you’ve told me. It will cloud everything.’
‘Please, I would really appreciate it.’
I shake my head, standing up and grabbing my bag. ‘I know, but it’s not a good idea. Look, I’m sorry to rush out but I need to get Iggy. I can think about some names, about the best possible person for you to refer her to, but I can’t take her on for you, Ben. I know too much already and I don’t think it would be good for me or for her, and if you happen to see her here, waiting for me, it wouldn’t be good for you either.’
‘Okay, okay.’ He sighs and repeats, ‘okay,’ as he stands up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘I’m sorry, Ben. I’m not trying to upset you here…’
‘I know, I know. That’s why I asked you. You have a level of integrity I really respect, Lana, and I knew you would make the right decision.’
When Angela, the last therapist who rented the space, told me she was taking a year off to care for her baby as I had suspected she would, I spoke to three other therapists, all women, before Ben came in.
