I couldn't do it either, and it took a long, long time. It felt for a long time that everything I said was pointless, or stupid, or a waste of his time.

In the end, it was baby steps. I shared one little thing. When T didn't run screaming, or fall asleep, or tell me to leave, or roll his eyes, or whatever, I felt a little safer. Later, I shared one more little thing. Eventually the little things added up into big things, and about 18 months into therapy, I really started telling him the hard stuff.

It wasn't easy, and I hated it for a long long time. But it was worth it.