So it has been a couple years since I have been in therapy myself. Probably for any other profession, hearing a professional you are working with say they are in therapy, might be scary. But for a therapist such as myself, it’s kind of – well – necessary.
I hope to be empathic, understanding, encouraging and supportive to my clients. I want them to feel safe and encouraged to share their innermost thoughts, fears, dreams, and hopes. When they feel safe to share I am that much more able to help. My ability to understand their story is heightened.
So then, how much more am I able to be the therapist I hope to be when I am in their seat… on the couch… vulnerable… crying… searching… and looking for that human experience that validates… I am okay. I am valuable while imperfect, I am important while flawed. It was very hard, as I returned to that couch, to be vulnerable and to accept the validation given me by my therapist.
The thoughts of, “I shouldn’t be here, I’m a therapist”, “What will she think of me?”, “What will she tell her colleagues about me?”, or, the worst thought, “Wow, this chick should definitely not be a therapist”, were hard to hold back during the first session. The only thing encouraging me to continue being there is that there is some healing to do, and through that healing I can better help others. Well, that and feeling a genuine sense of care from her.
I often use the analogy (one that I do not take credit for), of the oxygen mask in the airplane. I ask my clients – especially the “people-pleasing” bunch – “What does the flight attendant tell you to do when the oxygen mask drops?” Most frequently, they respond correctly – “Put the oxygen mask on yourself first, THEN help those around you”. It’s important they see this as a metaphor for where they might be going wrong – wanting so badly to please others and help others that they leave themselves out of the mix.
I try to explain to my clients, there is nothing wrong with helping others, sacrificing for others, and if that’s your heart, then you have a gift. It’s when you don’t fill your own tank, or in this case, take in your own oxygen, that you really are less adept to help those around you. To give them your very best.
I think that’s what this “therapist in therapy” journey is doing for me – filling my lungs with good, precious air, so that, I am much better equipped to provide precious care to my clients, and even my friends and my family.
There is no such thing as a perfect therapist. If you find one, please run. While your therapist should not be practicing too much self-disclosure, it might be helpful for you to know, that they know, what it is like to be in your seat… on the couch… vulnerable… crying… searching… and looking for that human experience that validates… I am okay.
Amy M Price, LMFT 