On Therapy

 July 1st was the anniversary of the death of the therapist, Lauren, who quite literally saved my life.  

Every July her daughter and family visits from France, where they now live, for a family remembrance.  This year she came alone because her husband is Muslim and they were afraid to enter this country. ( I truly have no words for the anger I feel toward this administration and the climate of fear it has created)

Still, her visit always reminds me to be grateful for a therapist who got me from point A (a barely functioning shell, lost in trauma and grief) to point B (a person  who can love, and laugh and find joy in life again).  It was exhausting work, took years, and the progress was anything but linear.  She died before I got to the finish line, but she left me with enough tools to get there. And to stay grounded with only occasional setbacks.  

I was thinking of her when I spoke to my nephew who is now in couple counseling, trying to save his marriage.  He was telling me that the therapist (whom his wife chose) sits and listens to the complaints, often rolls her eyes, and has not given them any realistic suggestions - no insights, no suggestions, no strategies to practice.  It has basically become a bitch session for his wife.  No growth. No challenge.  Really, no help in getting to the root of their problems.  I gently suggested that perhaps he should find his own therapist, to support his own growth.  

The more I chat with folks who have gone through trauma, the more I realize how lucky I was to have Lauren.  So many times I hear stories of women who have basically become dependent on their therapist for support with no growth or healing happening - emotional crutches where dependency replaces growth, and little actually changes.  Therapy, I think, should be a place to transform and build strength, even if the changes are small and incremental. 

Lauren helped me do the hard work of becoming myself again. And though she’s gone, I carry her wisdom every day. Her legacy, for me and many others like me, reminds me that healing is possible—and that a truly good therapist can change, and even save, a life.

I feel so blessed.