Page 66 of Sorry, Not Sorry
45
Arne gently shooed Sigmund off his lap and leaned forward in his chair. ‘Why do you want to go back to work, Delilah?’
Delilah stared at the floor, mulling over her options. She could offer a glib response and say what she thought Arne wanted to hear, or she could use the lessons she’d learned and tell the truth.
She took a breath and then looked up to meet his gaze. ‘Because it’s the only job I’ve ever had where I truly felt like I fitted. I wasn’t great at it, because I was blind to so much about myself, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t being real. Helping people who are struggling with unhealthy relationships means everything to me. I understand that I don’t know half of what I think I know, but I’m not scared or embarrassed any more to ask for help. I know from our sessions how important it is to have people I can bounce ideas off and share my doubts and insecurities with, and I’m ready to do it right this time.’
Arne leaned back, and a slow smile worked its way across his face. ‘Bravo, Delilah. I think you’re ready, too.’
She had been so focused on expressing her feelings that it took a few moments for Arne’s words to register.
‘Really?’ she whispered, her voice cracking with incredulity.
‘Really.’ Arne nodded. His brilliant blue eyes suddenly looked suspiciously moist, and he cleared his throat loudly. ‘I will send a message to Polly this afternoon. She has missed having you on her team and this will be very welcome news to her.’
Delilah’s smile was so wide that her face hurt, and it took all her willpower – and the real fear of Sigmund hissing at her – not to whoop out loud. She hadn’t realised until this moment just how badly she wanted her job back. This time, however, it wasn’t to prove anything to Polly, Farhan or Salome – or even to herself. It was to help people find a way through the conflict in their relationships without harming each other.
Then, just as suddenly, the doubts flooded in. ‘What if it turns out I’m still being biased?’ she asked hesitantly.
There was silence, but she had learned that when Arne paused, it wasn’t judgement. He had heard her, and he was reflecting.
‘Delilah, the insights you have gained during our time together won’t change your behaviour overnight. That will take practice and being patient with yourself,’ Arne said gently. ‘Any setbacks will be part of the process of learning, but I’m confident you have enough awareness of your sensitivities to recognise when you are in danger of breaching boundaries with your clients. Don’t forget that you also have your colleagues and your supervision group to advise you when you face such challenges and, as we have agreed, you will continue your sessions with me.’
‘But what if?—?’
‘Therapy is also about recognising your strengths, Delilah,’ Arne cut in before she could continue. ‘Remind yourself how far you’ve come over these past months.’
He stood up and walked towards the door, leaving her with no choice but to pick up her bag and jacket and do the same.
Arne opened the door and stood back, and when she hesitated, he gave her an encouraging smile. ‘You will be fine, Delilah. You have the tools to reframe false and negative beliefs into what is real and possible – so use them.’
Once again, her Viking giant of a therapist was right. Delilah nodded, only just restraining herself from hugging him fiercely. Instead she gave him a huge smile and took off down the corridor, running past Sadie’s office and down the stairs with her heart bursting from joy. She knew what getting help had done for her, and she couldn’t wait to do the same for others.
EPILOGUE
Delilah glanced up at the clock on the wall. With only fifteen minutes of the session left, her clients were still at loggerheads. This was the second of three Saturday morning sessions which Sandy, a heavily made-up blonde in her late thirties, had booked for herself and her husband Graham. With no breakthrough yet in their communications, Graham’s laboured attempt to mirror the statement his wife had just made as proof that he could listen had not landed well.
‘For God’s sake, Gray, that is so not what I said!’ Sandy exclaimed. ‘It’s so bloody typical of you. Do you see now, Delilah? He never listens to me!’
Graham flushed angrily, and Delilah raised a hand. When she had their attention, she said calmly, ‘Now, Sandy, remember our goal is to focus on solutions, which means being clear about the problem. It’s not helpful to use blanket statements like “never” because when you say Graham never listens to you, that’s not true. Let’s try this. I think what would be more useful to Graham is if you can be specific about a time you felt unheard and then tell him what you observed.’
Sandy pursed her lips and said grudgingly, ‘Right. On Sunday, I asked him to move my dressing table nearer the window to give me more natural light when I’m doing my face.’
‘And what did Graham say?’
‘Absolutely bloody nothing! He blanked me – waved me away like I was an annoying fly that had got into the room.’ She glared accusingly at her husband who was squirming in his chair with a face like thunder.
‘What did Graham’s response tell you, Sandy?’ Delilah asked.
‘That he doesn’t love me and couldn’t give a toss about what matters to me!’ Sandy said tearfully, fumbling in her handbag for a tissue. She sniffed loudly and dabbed under her eyes, and Delilah gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘The reason we’ve spent so much of our session today talking about communication is because, as we’ve just seen, something as trivial as asking for help to move furniture can quickly blow up into a crisis. Now, instead of both of you trying to prove you’re right and the other one is wrong, let’s try and understand the truth of what was really going on. Sandy, what do you think you could have said to Graham, either at the time or afterwards, to help him understand how his response made you feel?’
Sandy huffed. ‘Well, it was obvious I was upset cos I had a go at him, didn’t I?’
‘Yes, but what could you have said to help him understand why you were upset, and what you needed from him?’
Sandy looked across at Graham, who had slumped back in his chair looking miserable, and her expression softened. ‘I suppose I could have told him what I’ve just said to you,’ she admitted.
