Considering

 “I wanted to let you know,” Tammy says immediately upon sitting down, “I’m considering changing therapists.”

I’m surprised and try to recall what if anything might have occurred in our last session that would have prompted her possible termination. “Because…?” I ask.

“We just don’t seem to be getting anywhere. It’s over two years. And, yeah, I know, therapy is a process, not a destination.”

“Is this something you’ve been considering for a while?”

“Uhm. No, not really.”

“Can you say what started your thinking along these lines?”

Tammy squirms in the chair. “Uhm, I guess I’d rather not.”

“Why would you rather not?” I ask bemused.

“This is why I want to change therapists! You question everything! You want answers to everything! Why? Why? Why? I’m sick of it.”

“And what would you prefer instead?”

“Somebody who just left me alone and let me live my life!”

“Then why would you want to be in therapy at all?”

“I considered that too. But not being in therapy feels too scary. I don’t trust myself enough to not be in therapy. Who knows what I might do.” 

“I realize that you’d rather not say what started your thinking about changing therapists, but I think it’s important that you do. You know if you decide to change therapists I certainly would support you in whatever way I could. But given what you just said about not trusting yourself, I suspect that means you know you can make impulsive decisions and that despite you’re not liking to be asked why, it is an important question for you.”

Tammy sighs deeply, rolls her eyes, looks at me and smirks. “I ran into Michael, my ex-boyfriend, Michael.”

“And?”

“What do you think?”

“He wanted to get back together.”

“Right. I told him I was engaged to Philip and he just laughed. Said he couldn’t believe I was still with that nerd. And that he bet I was still in therapy with you too. I told him yeah, I was. He says it figures, that you’d want me to be with a loser, always chasing my own tail.”

“Do you feel I want you to be with a loser?”

“No, not exactly, but you are always pointing out how good Philip is to me, how he cares for me and tries to take care of me.”

“And those are bad things?”

“No, of course not. But they can get kind of boring.”

“Did you have sex with Michael?”

“No, but I was tempted.”

“So it’s Philip or Michael and me or some other therapist?”

“I guess that’s about right.”

“And who’s the other therapist?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten that far.” Pause. “But maybe he would be a man. That would be different; might make it more interesting.”

“Are you saying it might make it more dangerous or more sexual…”

“I’m not sleeping with any therapist!”

“I wasn’t suggesting you were, but wondering if having a male therapist would introduce the possibility of sex into the treatment and that might feel more tantalizing.”

“I chose a female therapist in the first place because I didn’t want that sexual element to be a part of it.”

“And now you think you might?”

“I don’t know. I guess that’s why I said I was considering changing therapists, not that I’d decided.”

“This is a big conflict for you, Tammy: safety and comfort on the one hand, or excitement and danger on the other. It gets played out with Michael and Philip, with me and a male therapist, and also in your work. Should you give up your job as a nurse and see if you could make it as a singer?”

“That’s just a dream, I’m not doing that. Too risky.”

“And are you comfortable, resolved saying that?”

“Makes me a little sad, but yeah. I’m 36, I’m not making it onto the charts. Too many of me out there.”

“So that’s one of the things you’ve come to accept.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You know, it actually might have been helpful for you to have seen a male therapist from the start…”

Tammy shakes her head adamantly from side to side.

“No?” I inquire.

“No. Then I really couldn’t have trusted myself and who knows what stupid thing I might have done, maybe even made an ass of myself and tried to seduce the guy.”

“So maybe now the question is do you want a break from the nice, caring me and/or Philip and add a bit of spice to your life in the way of Michael and/or a male therapist.”

“I guess so.” Pause. “I don’t know. I guess I’d like to continue considering it.”

“That sounds like an excellent decision. And we can continue to talk about it as well.”

The Risk

“It’s been a while,” says Delores. “I appreciate your seeing me so quickly.”

“My pleasure,” I respond, truthfully. I always liked Delores, a spunky, vibrant woman who was in her late 60s when I last saw her.

“This time it’s actually not an emergency. Not like last time. I was such a mess. Losing Marvin so unexpectedly was devastating. I just wasn’t prepared. And having him be the third husband I lost, well, that was all way too much.” She sighs. “But I guess that is part of why I’m here. I’m trying to figure out if I dare do it again. After Marvin I said never again, no more men. And now, now I just don’t know.”

I certainly remember Delores’ trauma at losing Marvin. I myself was a relatively recent widow, Delores’ pain clearly reverberating with my own. And the fact that she had lived through two other such losses felt truly overwhelming. I can certainly understand her reluctance to take the risk again.

“Is there a specific man?” I ask.  

“Oh yes, Harry. A friend of mine kept asking me to go out with him. She said he was a widower, a friend of the man she dates, a good bridge player and an all-around nice guy. I said ‘no’ for quite a while. Then one day I felt lonely and they were going to a movie I wanted to see, so I said, why not, it’s just one date. That was three months ago. And now, well, it’s going to go one way or the other. I either have to stop seeing him or take the plunge.”

I certainly understand Delores’ conflict. Harry perhaps offers a more fulfilling, richer life, but certainly raises the specter of another devastating loss. I’ve lived my life believing that it’s “better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all,” but perhaps there’s a limit to the number of excruciating losses any person can sustain. Fortunately I don’t have to make Delores’ decision for her.

“So, what are your thoughts?” I ask.

“Well, I’ve thought of all the obvious things – he’s older than me, although only by a couple of years; he has prostate cancer but they’ve been watching it for years and it’s never gotten worse; he’s also had a lot of skin cancer, but that seems under control as well; no heart disease, but Marvin supposedly didn’t have heart disease either, until he keeled over dead. I go round and around in my head about all that. But what’s really odd, is that I keep thinking about my father, dreaming about him too.”

I remain silent, giving Delores time to reflect.

“My father’s been dead for almost 50 years. It was very traumatic for me when he died. I felt like an orphan, even though I was in my 20s. My mother had been dead since I was 10, so it had been just me and my Dad for a while.” Pause. “But I don’t know why I’m particularly thinking of my Dad now. He didn’t come up for me when Marvin died, or any of my other husbands either if I remember correctly. No, that’s not true. John, my first, died not that long after my Dad. I wasn’t 30 yet and I remember then thinking of my Dad a lot. There were so many losses. I could cry just thinking about it.”

“I’m sure that’s true.”

“So do I want another one? I mean, I know no one ever knows, that I could drop dead tomorrow, especially since I don’t exactly have longevity in my family, but I guess my experience is always that the men go first.”

“Except not for your mother. She died first.”

“That’s true,” Delores says pensively. “I wonder what that meant for me. This is a crazy thought, but I wonder if I expected my Dad to live forever. I mean I knew he couldn’t, but still …”

“Was that a wish, Delores? As in you wanted your Dad to live forever because you couldn’t face another loss.”

“I’ve certainly faced lots of them.” She chuckles. “I wonder if I keep looking for the one who’ll live forever. Just kidding.”

“Maybe you’re not kidding. Maybe you keep looking for the man who won’t abandon you, who will live to be there for you, unlike either of your parents.”

“That’s deep. My unconscious would have to be real smart to think that one up.”

“Perhaps it’s that the child part of you is still yearning for the safety and security that was so absent in your childhood.”

“Perhaps. But I don’t know if that helps me figure out what to do about Harry. I’ll have to think about it during the week and see what my unconscious comes up with.”

“Sounds good.”