It always strikes me that trust is such a small word for such a massive thing! Trust is a hard thing for many people to establish, as it asks for us to be vulnerable, to believe that another person is not going to abuse that and will only want to support and better us. For someone who has experienced trauma trust is so easily shattered and almost impossible to build – and yet, to have a meaningful therapeutic relationship trust is essential.
So how do we navigate that complexity? It is really about a desire for a connection and having someone who consistently proves that they can be trusted. In therapy we are sharing the deepest and most painful experiences with another and trusting that they will hold them with care and compassion. We need to believe that they will show up for us physically and emotionally. To contain what we cannot sometimes.
But trust is built, it is not an automatic connection or given that because someone is a therapist, or mental health professional they are automatically trusted. We all need to earn trust by proving that we are what we say we are. That we do what we say we do, and we do it consistently and with care.
Every Stranger is You
Every stranger is you.
Every shadow, every noise, all you.
You are everywhere.
I can run for miles and never escape you,
because you live in my head, in my dreams, in my nightmares.
But that residence is temporary, I’m serving an eviction notice.
You own my past, you live in my present, but the future-
that’s mine.
I’m claiming it back.
It was never yours to take.
Through the fog I see the therapist’s face,
I see someone who can bare to sit with the pain.
Who can share the journey.
Who will hold me up when I stumble.
No longer am I alone on this path.
That - that is the key - with her, there is no room for you.
Together, we are moving you out.
Box by box we are kicking you out.
Making space for me.
She holds my hand as I see all that I lost,
so many years ago, buried under all of you.
As you go the darkness lifts.
I can just see the horizon,
and you know what?
There’s light over there.
It’s called the future, it’s mine.
I’m heading that way.
I am honoured to be the therapist in that poem. I have read it many times, and each time it moves me, humbles me, reminds me that I will never - I vow - NEVER take for granted the TRUST a client puts in me.
It takes HUGE courage to contact a counsellor, and once you have, it’s almost like the session has begun at *that* point. That person is stepping out of their “known” and into, potentially, the TOTAL UNKNOWN that is counselling, therapy.
The client who wrote the above poem had had several ‘less than perfect’ (shall we say?!) experiences of therapists before me (disclaimer: this really IS NOT me saying “I’m perfect!” No one is. But you can be the ‘right fit’ for someone…it can work…
When you have been let down, how do you EVER trust again?! (Reminds me of that abused donkey from our last blog…who, somehow, learnt to trust humans again).
A comprehensive psychoanalytic theory exists called ‘Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development’ that identifies a series of eight stages that constitutes ‘healthy’ development from infancy to late adulthood. And, guess what, stage 1 is birth-18months old and the psychosocial ‘crisis’ is Trust vs. Mistrust!
That infant develops a sense of trust in their caregivers; are they consistently meeting my needs (trust) or are they letting me down (mistrust). And that’s where our attachment styles form…secure or insecure, anyone?
But that’s all exactly what is playing out in the counselling room, isn’t it?
Cathy & I pride ourselves on the honesty in our relationship; it’s what our (original) client/counsellor relationship was built upon and what remains now as we build Transcend Trauma as friends and colleagues.
If I am not honest; if I am not consistent; if I am not genuine, what do I have? What can I build upon?! That’s my half of the equation, what I bring to the table; maybe it’s that then that invites my client to dare…to take the ‘leap of faith’ and trust me…or maybe their ‘need’ takes over at that point and the relationship is built upon how I respond to their story?
All I can say is that, to be someone’s “last chance”…”last hope”…to be their “lifeline” - it takes my breath away, and - you’d hope (wouldn’t you!) that it would make me feel like the King of the World!…but it doesn’t. If it did, I worry that it would all go to my head! So I remain the (at times) imposter, who sometimes feels she has “forgotten how to do this!”
Human being first, counsellor second - remember! Gah!!!
Maybe it’s then I should read that poem again and feel glad that that little girl met this counsellor.
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