We had been talking about an on-going problem I was having with my father, and he asked if it were possible that I could just forgive him and let it go? I started to dissociate immediately and only half-aware whispered that I'd never forgive him. My T was quiet for what seemed like a minute, and then very, very softly asked me what my father had done to me that I couldn't forgive him for? That's when I realized what I'd said, and I started shaking and crying uncontrollably, saying "I can't, I can't, I can't." He was talking, but I couldn't hear him. Finally I heard him ask if I wanted to stay for another hour. He leaned forward and just said very slowly that I didn't need to think about anything, only did I want to stay? I nodded, and he called the front desk to reschedule a meeting he had (not a client).

He very quietly called me by name and asked me if what my father had done was sexual? And I nodded. Then he repeated my name (I guess I appeared still quite dissociated) and asked, quietly again, if he hurt me? And I nodded. And I was still shaking and crying and aside from remembering him walking me down the hall to the appointment desk (this was at the University) and hearing him ask the secretary to book the first available appointment, I don't remember anything else. I've tried to remember the next few appointments, but I don't. There was a time years later when he brought up that disclosure session and asked me if I remembered it, so I must have appeared very dissociated.

I've thought about how quiet he was, how softly he spoke, and the gentleness of the words he used when reading how straightforward and sometimes persistent some Ts seem to respond. All I remember him saying in response was a whispered "OK" or "It's OK." I doubt I could have tolerated more specific questions. I'm grateful that all I felt from him was empathy, protection, and a visceral sense of his being there with me, holding me without ever touching me.