I stopped therapy not because therapists would not own their stuff, but because it was pointless to engage in this manufactured drama.

I had a major "rupture" and the therapist put it all on me. Then later she copped to her part. But this had no meaning ultimately. The owning was as hollow as the not owning.

The ruptures weren't real because a real rupture requires two participants with authentic investment in the relationship. Therapists spread their faux caring around to dozens of paying customers... and then go home to their real life, while the clients wait anxiously for the next staged performance. A "rupture" likely is trivial to the therapist (but for the client might be all consuming). So I see "repair" in this context as trivial too.

In my experience therapy was largely cheap fakery and sleight of hand. When i stared directly at it, I saw how feeble it was.

Spending hours and hours obsessing on this fantasy relationship as if every detail had some grand significance... egads what a mistake.