Honesty in therapy facilitates insight
Dear Amy: You recently published my question in your column. I signed my question: No Crystals For Me. In my question, I told you about my frustration with my therapist, who suggested a book for me to read that was full of soul-gazing, crystals, and an overall approach that I described as pseudoscience and “woo-woo.”
I did as you suggested and took my honest concerns to my therapist.
I asked her if the book was representative of the core of her approach to therapy, because if it was, I could not benefit from it.
Well, it turned out that the book is not important to her therapy. We both used this as an opening to a good discussion.
By writing down my concerns, you helped me even before you answered my letter. Thank you.
And to all those that commented that I should just immediately drop the therapist, I say, “Y’all sure are impatient.”
No Crystals For Me!
Dear No Crystals: In my response, I wrote, “Be honest! Tell her that you are resistant to this particular approach and ask if she has a different recommendation. She will likely ask you to talk about your reaction, and this conversation might lead to insight.”
Based on what you say, this is what happened, proving that your therapist is skilled at using information you supply to help you. She’s listening.
Dear Amy: As I sit here with my Christmas cards, I think about how much these cards mean to me each year. Each card that we receive in the mail is slipped into a pretty basket in our living room.
Then, on a quiet evening just before Christmas we sit down together and open them one at a time.
We enjoy them so much and consider each one a small gift from the sender, who took the time and expense to think of us.
During this pandemic year and the inability to visit so many people these “gifts” are especially precious.
Madam in Michigan
Dear Madam: Even though my own Christmas cards routinely turn into “Happy New Year” cards, I agree that — this year, especially — these missives through the mail bring even more love than usual.