In the midst of all the difficulities with therapy and therapists that people are posting about, I feel kind of guilty making a positive post. But here goes... My therapy is going really well and I am getting along great with my therapist. I hope it is OK to post that.

A few days ago I had my first session after two weeks. My session before the break was not good at all, but this latest was very connected. What was sweet was at the beginning, when I first see T, I comment on the beard he is growing. I love beards!!! He tells me he will shave it off when he comes back to work for good next week. No, keep it, I urge. Why? Because I like beards, I say. He says his wife told him it makes him look hawt. LOL. I don’t say “me too,” but this cracked me up. I hope he keeps it.

I do pretty much trust T with anything. At this session, we went very deep, out of nowhere, and I cried a lot and even sobbed. (One of my new things is to let myself sob if I need to sob. It’s still hard to do that with someone else present, but I'm doing better.) T just sits there and takes it. It strikes me now, as it has before, how strange it is to go see someone for an hour and sob and tell the saddest stories from your life, while they just sit there and listen. (Of course, they do so much more.) T says it is good to cry and share these moments, that I am still grieving the marriage, and I am getting that pain out. I don’t want to still be “grieving the marriage.” But I guess I still am. What I shared was something from very early in the marriage when our first child almost died. Something happened between me and my H, in the shadow of our infant’s illness, and it was very painful and illustrated the truth of our relationship, which I am only coming to grips with now. The memory came up while T and I were discussing something else, and I followed it. T has told me before that when you are in therapy, the memories just line up to be told, to be shared. Your unconscious knows it is time for the memories to come out and be remembered and felt, because here at last is a safe place to express the pain, and a safe person to share them with. It’s so healing. It’s so strange.

T and I talk about my current relationship with H, and he suggests that I talk to my H and say X, Y, and Z. He thinks it would be very positive if I said these things, and help strengthen our relationship, which is so important when you have kids and are getting divorced. I say I am not ready. I can’t do that. I was closer to that point a month ago--there have been some very rocky and painful times with my H recently. T says I need to be the prow of the ship (go first, initiate this). I say no, I am tired of being the prow of the ship. Why do I always have to be the prow? Why? Because you’re a leader, says T. Silence. And because you wouldn’t have it any other way (he knows me well). I guess he expects resistance because when I readily agree with that last statement, he laughs. I say I can’t do that yet, though, I’m just not ready. It just feels so one way to me, and I don’t want to keep doing that. (From my point of view, my entire marriage has been one way and that was very, very painful, and I don’t want to keep repeating that pattern, because it brings up all of the old hurt.) I’m trying to help you make it two way, says T, very gently. I don’t understand this comment. Or what all this is in service of. To me it seems T is just asking me to repeat a painful pattern, and the outcome will be no better now than all those times before. It seems ironic to work so hard now, to be so concerned about the relationship with my H (I don’t want to be!), and try to make it better, when we are getting divorced. I am just not there yet, I say. I can’t say those things to him—it would be lying. I would never ask you to lie, T says. I’m not there yet, I repeat. OK.

We shared a really nice hug at the end. So warm and encompassing and safe.