I just re-read this vignette in Love's Executioner. I will admit, Yalom was very open, brutal, about his intense dislike of his patient's obesity.

It's easy to stop at that. HE could have easily stopped at that. It stings and makes me wonder about what my therapist may have disliked about me at first.

But he didn't stop. He kept on. She did do a lot of work, both on the emotional side, and with the weight loss, but he empathized and struggled with her (read the vignette again).

I think that's true of therapy in general. When you bottom line it, we do all the work. Our therapist's help us, of course, but it's up to us.

Yalom may be a knob for a host of other reasons, but this story, I think, shows the struggle of a therapist and a patient who are both trying to grow and be better people.

He helped her to get to the root of her problems, and she helped him to understand himself and the world around him better.

My therapist always says that he is a better person for knowing me. I wonder what I helped him to overcome.

Probably his blind trust in the police