At what point does a client need to detach from their therapist?
Maybe there’s no need to detach from the therapist, like a barnacle from a boat.
I confess I’m still attached, at least a little, to the three therapists I’ve had (one every 15 years or so.) The first one, Matt, an LPC, was a very tall guy who rented an apartment in a lovely old building and turned it into an office. I remember our first exchange vividly.
I was there to figure out whether to continue in hospital work or do something new. We exchanged pleasantries. I was kind of active in town in psychological things at the time. Matt, somewhat younger than I was, fixed me with a stare and said, “Um, are you sure you don’t want to work with someone…bigger?”
Brilliant. I burst out laughing, and he did too. We stopped and started again. He’d acknowledged I was an older, busy psychologist and, in a silly sense, “outranked” him. I wasn’t conscious of any such thing, so it struck me funny. I confess I don’t remember anything else about the therapy, except a warm and grateful feeling for Matt. Somehow he knew the perfect thing to say. I’m still kind of attached to Matt (or the Matt introject), and I smile and feel good as I type this.
Sergei vastly outranked me, a big shot professor with important articles and books, but he had a way of making me feel smart and original and funny and hardworking as a client. He also said a few very wise things that stuck. I’m still attached.
By the time I saw Athena, we were both far too old to think about things like rank. She was older than I was, which I liked, and it helped with the nice maternal transference that helped nourish the therapy. I loved being attached to her. Still am, even though she died a couple of years ago.