Voicelessness and Emotional Survival--Holiday Blues

A therapist can address a particular pattern: "This is what you do and why you do it..." many times, and the client will still not be able to change. The most powerful change agent in therapy is the relationship between therapist and client. Because voicelessness results from relationship problems, the restoration of voice requires a very special relationship to undo the damage.

Patty was very willing to listen to what I said about her family, and let me know that she understood and agreed. She was as flexible with me as she was with everyone else. On the surface, it appeared that she trusted me. But she didn't yet know me, and given her past history she had no reason to trust me. Instead, she was doing what was necessary to build and maintain a relationship. Because of years of prior experience, she believed I couldn't possibly accept her for who she was, and therefore she would have to prove herself by being accommodating. Ultimately, it was my job to show that this was not necessary--that her true, vulnerable self could be appreciated. I did this by listening carefully, by accepting her thoughts and feelings, by truly enjoying the time we spent together. This was not difficult: Patty has many wonderful qualities that had never been appreciated. Being valued was initially scary and confusing to Patty. Her initial emotional reaction was, in part, to push me away to avoid attachment and inevitable disappointment. A therapist's humanity and goodness abrasively grind away at the very same defenses that allowed the client to emotionally survive his or her childhood. On the basis of our relationship, Patty was ultimately able to carefully and actively look for intimacy elsewhere in the world.

Two and a half years into therapy on the session before Christmas, Patty arrived in my office with a small bag from one of the local bakeries. She pulled out two cupcakes with blue icing, and she handed me one of them along with a napkin. The other she kept for herself. "For once in my life I want to celebrate Christmas on my own terms," she said. Then she pointed to the icing and laughed: "Holiday blues," she said. For a split second she looked at me, wondering whether I would appreciate the irony. Then her face relaxed.

She knew I did.