
As a therapist, much of my professional life is spent bringing my attention to my clients' problems, their anxieties, distress or pain. Being present, listening, putting myself mentally in their shoes, offering a supportive space, a gentle challenge perhaps, a new way of seeing something, or pointing out an unhelpful pattern of thinking. If you are my client, then, in the moment, sitting across the room from you (or across a screen - it's extraordinary how intimate online therapy can sometimes feel too) - I will be doing everything I can to give you my full focus. I will be hoping that, if you feel able, we can connect in some way. That you'll feel, 'Yes, she gets me'.
And yet, of course, the job can be hard. Sometimes very hard. Therapists and counsellors hear people's stories and, given that the person they are working with is having therapy, sometimes (though certainly not always) that involves listening to pain, distress, confusion, even despair. Sometimes these feelings are very obvious and on show. Other times, I might be with someone who feels something isn't right in life - they're slipping into low mood or a depressed state, losing their sense of self, or recognising that they long haven't had a grip on what it is. Then the process might involve lifting the lid on their life, background or experiences to coax out the trouble beneath.
Clients sometimes say things that have a relevance to my own life, or my background. It might be about loss, family, relationships or the search for identity maybe. I have faced grief, anxiety and depression in my life. I still deal with the latter two fairly regularly. When those moments arise in a session, I do my best to notice my feelings inwardly, take a moment to process and to hold what's going on for me, and to ensure my attention stays with my client. I rarely bring my own story to our work, and if I do, I always ask myself, 'Will it be of benefit to my client to hear this?'. But despite not often talking about my own life in my work, I sometimes reflect that I am actually strangely fortunate to have had to deal with a few of life's tougher times too. It's made me who I am. When I am with someone in distress, I hope that somehow my having had a share of pain across my life makes my empathy recognisably real. Your story will be different from mine, but as human beings we both know what hurt feels like.
I love my job, because it's authentic. Authentic lives, authentic feelings, authentic stories, no matter how difficult. Amongst the many things that therapy can offer is the chance to be fully genuine with someone else. If you gel with your therapist, you can let the mask drop, putting down the weight of the protective armour you're carrying round to stay safe in the world. With that done, the chance arises to reach the heart of things, whatever they may be. If you can feel safe enough to bring that vulnerability into the room, then you are in a powerful place to start work on healing whatever needs to be healed.
I love my job, because its a privilege. Being let behind the wall of people's lives into what's really going on for them, in all its messiness, contradictions, or confusion. Of course, this often doesn't happen immediately. You'll want to get the measure of your therapist, wait for them to earn your trust (they will say all the official - and really important - stuff about confidentiality and privacy, as they should, but this is about instincts and feelings). If you're finding after a number of sessions that you're just not able to let them 'inside' then it's probably worth telling them if you can, and then if later it still doesn't seem to be working get another therapist. I often feel humbled when I realise that I am really hearing from something deep inside my client; perhaps something fragile and unused to appearing. I also feel touched to know that they feel secure enough to bring it.
I love my job, because therapy works.
I don't of course mean that I have some kind of Super-Therapist Healing powers. Far from it. I hope that I am good at what I do, but that's for my clients to say, not me. Importantly, I'm not in the business of trying to 'fix' people by telling them what to feel, how to think or how to be in the world. Nor should any decent therapist be in that business in my view, because that's not therapy that's power. I am in the business however of trying to create the setting and the circumstances for people to find for themselves an end to their distress, a route to happiness and meaning in life - or whatever it is they need in the face of their questions. I'm also in the business of offering ways to find, to process and to be with feelings, discussing how to come through pain or let the past go, or how to tackle anxiety and find breathing space (sometimes literally) to cope with life. As an integrative therapist, I was exposed in my training to a whole range of approaches; my style is about sensing what might be most useful from a wide toolset to help you. And sometimes, as a client says goodbye, having come to the moment when they feel that they have made the change they were seeking or that they now can, or rediscovered something inside that had gone missing, that's a very powerful moment indeed. ******* Jo Shaw is qualified psychotherapist seeing clients in London, Tunbridge Wells, Kent and online. She can be reached on +44 (0)7551 152067 or jo@jjstherapy.com *******