What does 'feeling held' mean or feel like in therapy?

(Ok, so after my mad three hours, I'm attempting to hold my head up, move on and step back into the place where I have good faith in the therapeutic process and want to keep learning and growing and ridding myself of my ignorance)

This had been on my mind a bit. What does the 'feeling held' thing mean in therapy? My therapist has used this phrase a few times and I don't get it.

I'm guessing it's something to do with emotional safety, feeling secure enough to express what you want or need to express? But what's that got to do with holding anyone - is it just a metaphor for feeling comfortable talking about anything and feeling listened to? I really don't understand.

Holding means the same as cuddling, right? As opposed to a hug which is quicker? The only people I have ever literally 'held' are my parents and lovers, in that case, I only hug friends? I don't hanker after hugs with my therapist, and though I love her I certainly don't want to cozy up for a cuddle.

Maybe that's why the metaphoric version makes me feel a bit...ick? Does feeling metaphorically held only feel right if you have a maternal transference?

Not sure if I'm making sense or talking in circles.

I guess I can relate to the ick part, especially I take things literally, lol, but I guess metaphorically it would mean, letting her hold you, with her knowledge, and trust, warmth, an support, and to be there for you, without, you, putting up a fight.

To, me that would be very challenging, but, you should give it a try.

I want to reply more at length later, but it means two things in my experience of therapy, my therapist also uses the phrase.

The first meaning is that the therapeutic relationship is a safe construct of my therapists, and that within that emotional and physical safe space, she can contain all of me. My anger, my fear, my sadness, my pain, my quirks, my joys, my dreams... it all fits- I can be myself, and she is strong enough and safe enough to hold it all and accept it all.

The second sense is more the holding you referred to, that she will compassionately contain my tears, share the burden of them, share my fear, share my ambivalence, so it doesn't overburden me. It's about partnership and yes, somewhat like... being embraced, to let me let go of some of the tension of holding everything myself.

I confessed (in an email) to my t that I have dreams he is holding me in bed. I explained that these dreams aren't sexual in nature but that they still freak me out. I don't really want to have the conversation but I do hope he brings it up next session. those dreams really bug me!

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I think Leah explains the qualities of holding and why it's an important feature of therapy. What it felt like for me was not only acceptance, validation, and empathy, but also a sense of order, safety and control--that I was protected from my inner self and from being overwhelmed by my emotions. Also a sense that I could bring any fear into the room and be protected--that being able to do that psychologically gave me a safe space and time to deal with things. It took the pressure off of me in the moment, allowing me to delay facing or reacting to whatever was bothering me in the moment. There was also the very deep feeling of having someone who could carry some of the weight of pain.

Sorry, I missed this part:

Holding means the same as cuddling, right? As opposed to a hug which is quicker? The only people I have ever literally 'held' are my parents and lovers, in that case, I only hug friends? I don't hanker after hugs with my therapist, and though I love her I certainly don't want to cozy up for a cuddle.

Maybe that's why the metaphoric version makes me feel a bit...ick? Does feeling metaphorically held only feel right if you have a maternal transference?

I suppose the physical act of holding did inspire the use of the term in psychology, but in practice, the two aren't necessarily connected. But I can see where any connotations, good or bad, that you'd have with the word in common usage would carry over--just don't assume your T shares the same connotations. I don't think it's dependent on any particular type of transference, though the concept did expand from work Winnicott did with mothers and children.

I remember being very upset and overwhelmed by feeling that whoever I thought I was in the past seemed not to be true anymore (because I was flooded with new memories and feelings), and the sensation was one of being in bits and pieces scattered over the floor and not feeling I had any center or wholeness. In tears, I asked my T to hold me; it was as though I couldn't physically feel any shape to myself. I imagine it is the sort of terror that a baby or very young child feels. My T wouldn't physically hold me, but very gently explained how there were other non-physical ways he could hold me, and that over time, I would be able to carry that sense within me. He understood what I couldn't about my feeling at the time: that it was about identity and integration psychologically. And while physical holding may have calmed my fear, it wouldn't have addressed the psychological state I was experiencing. So the two senses of holding can be related, but work in very different ways and to different ends.

The bit of yours in bold, I get a similar thing at times and it is horrific. I feel like the edges between me and the room/ street/ buildings all dissolve and I'm not longer contained as one defined human being, just a vaguely conscious mess glooping into the space. Thank you for sharing this, it is the closest I've ever read to what I experience. Your therapist sounds amazing and skilled to have been able to help you fit all the fragmented bits of yourself back into one person. That kind of holding sounds extremely empowering, I hadn't thought of it in those terms.

Something else he said to my feeling that I didn't belong anywhere--that I didn't have a place in my life anymore because I felt no boundaries of self ( that gloopy mess)--was that it wouldn't last forever, nor destroy whoever I was meant to be. That I was a self in transition, it was predictable, and that he would contain all the parts of me and hold them as we allowed them to come together again. He wouldn't lose me. It was the containment part of holding, a borrowing of ego strength. It was also the darkest days, but the terror does lessen.

Thank you so much for this. I needed to read it. I don't really even understand it in a way I can articulate, more that I understand on a gut level - that it is possible to emerge from the chaos.

It took a long time for me. I told t only recently that i felt held. Sort of like being in an eggshell, suspended. Oh- maybe womb-like? Oddly, or paradoxically, from there i am moving on to being more vulnerable. You can only allow yourself to be vulnerable if you know youre safe, right?

I think feeling it is what's really important here. Something that may help you, adapted in whatever way is meaningful to you, is a way to make these feelings more tangible. Perhaps your T would be willing to consider a similar exercise. My T led me through a visualization to help me find an image that could counter that sense of borderlessness.

We settled on the image of sea glass because as a child I would spend hours combing the beach searching for and collecting sea glass. In the visualization, we imagined the pieces of myself as bits of sea glass, and together, gathered them up. This wasn't hypnosis, but was done in a state of relaxation in which I provided the images, and he included himself in the action. So it was a co-created visual story.

The following week, he brought a glass bowl half full of sea glass to session. We repeated the visualization while I held the bowl on my lap. Then, I handed him the bowl, and he held it while I focused my attention on his holding it. This may have lasted @ 10 minutes, with his occasionally saying phrases to help me focus on the image/feeling of him holding the bowl, until I felt something shift inside me. Difficult to describe exactly what the shift was, but I experienced it as an inner sense of calm, safety--being held. We repeated this sequence many times over the next few months, and periodically whenever I felt particularly vulnerable. It was also important to me that he keep the bowl on his desk. So when I would feel fragmented outside of session, I could re-imagine his keeping the parts of my self safe. Eventually, I could summon up the feelings on my own in and out of session without the bowl.

The theory is related to the use of transitional objects--Linus' blanket--but more representative of my sense of fragmentation, with the goal of me being able to hold myself, rather than a representation of him for comfort.

Perhaps this is related in some way to Hankster's use of dolls in session?

I can't believe I almost missed this - this visualization sounds truly profound in its effectiveness. It sounds like an almost spiritual experience? A way of finally resting easy in the knowledge that all the bits of you are safe, and not in danger of getting lost, and can be put together in a way that makes sense, that corresponds with the you-ness of you. Amazing. How many times did you have to do it over the few months?

Thank you for sharing it.

I'm glad it might be something for you to investigate.

I didn't think of it as spiritual, but I can see where aspects bear some resemblance to certain Buddhist practices, or Christian prayer experiences, especially within the mystic tradition. I think it can be infinitely adapted to be more directly spiritual, or to fit within an existing spiritual practice if that's meaningful. What's important is that the image resonates and that there is the level of trust to allow for the T to be a co-creator and facilitator of the process.

I honestly don't remember how often we repeated it or how long it lasted. The first few times were sequential and took most of the session time, but that's because the relaxation preparation took time. As I got better at it, I could enter that relaxed state much more quickly. The visualization itself I think took about 10-15 minutes. Over the course of about 6 months, I think we addressed it for a part of most sessions; more often at the beginning, and maybe every 2-3 sessions in the last couple of months. After that, maybe once every few months.

After reading your comment on mirror neurons, I suspect this is somehow connected. And may explain the powerful and lasting effects of it. Safety, huge reduction in "existential" anxiety, increased feelings of patience, security, bonding, holding, containment.

I should mention that when he held the bowl, he didn't hold it in his hands by the edges, but rather wrapped his arms around it, as though cradling a baby.
I think that was important for me. It's a small detail, but it shows how the images of the visualization really need to be personalized for it to work beyond a simple anxiety reduction ritual.

I can still summon up that feeling state, though now it's mostly the feeling of being held and secure and a warmth. At my last session, my T asked if I'd like to take the bowl. I hadn't needed it to remain on his desk for years, so I really hadn't thought about where it was. He retrieved it from a cupboard, and since then it sits on my desk at home--except for one piece of sea glass that I've carried in my change purse around much of the world.