I guess if I could have told myself the things he would tell me, I wouldn't have been in therapy. For me, I didn't have the capacity to tell myself much of anything; I did hear endlessly my parents' messages to me, which were painful, but I believed them because I had since childhood.

I think the question for me wasn't about belief, but rather about hearing. About letting the words into my consciousness at all. And that was only possible within the context of a trusted relationship. The power wasn't within my decision to believe, but rather his enactment of the messages. Telling me I deserved to be respected would have meant very little; his enacting his respect for me meant a lot.