Off the Deep End (52)
“I think before we go any further today, we should talk about what’s going on here.” He pushes his chair a few inches back from the table, trying to create as much distance between us as possible. That’s going to be hard. No amount of space is going to stop the pull that’s beginning. I’ve been here before. I know how these things go.
“What do you mean what’s going on?” I instinctively reach for my hair to twirl it around my fingers, but the long strands are gone. I have phantom hair like other people have phantom limbs. I rub my hand awkwardly against my face instead, hoping I don’t look too silly. I’m still learning how to be sexy with short hair.
“It’s inevitable that transference is going to happen at some point in therapy. There’s no reason to be ashamed of what you’re feeling. Developing feelings for your therapist is extremely common.” I’ve never seen him look so earnest and sincere.
I burst out laughing. “Transference?” I point between him and me. The illicit fantasy. “You think this is transference?”
“Yes.” He nods agreeably, his voice clinical and detached. “Whatever strong feelings you’re experiencing toward me are completely normal. People transfer romantic feelings toward their therapists all the time. It’s an extremely common reaction. It’s natural to develop strong feelings toward people that make us feel good about ourselves, that really listen to us and see us. It’s—”
“I know what transference is,” I snap, interrupting him before he gets any further. “That’s not what this is. I’m not projecting my desire for intimacy and closeness onto you or trying to get you to fill some unmet need of mine.” I shake my head, disgusted with his outdated and oppressive Freudian garbage.
“Hey, hey, hey.” He raises his hands up like he’s sorry he’s offended me, and he should be. “I’m not saying that you are. All I’m saying is that if that were to ever happen or even be the smallest part of whatever emotional attachment is going on between us, I want you to know it would be totally normal, especially since we’re talking about really deep topics centered around love and intimacy.” He smiles wide. “And I mean, Freud did say that the entire point of therapy was to experience and interpret transference, so I don’t think you should just immediately cast it off as a bad thing. I’m free to explore anything that comes up in our time together.”
“There’s nothing to explore.” I wouldn’t have said the same thing ten minutes ago, but I can’t stomach the idea of him after all that.
He places his hands on the table and folds them in front of him. He cocks his head to the side and gives me a playful smile, which seems completely inappropriate given our conversation, but what do I know? He’s the expert.
“I’m going to set a few things straight for you just in case there are any fantasies about me being the perfect partner starting to stir around in that head of yours.” He puts up two fingers. “I’m not even forty and I’ve been divorced twice.” He nods at his fingers, making sure I don’t miss the point. “I’m a terrible husband and an even worse boyfriend. I get offended super easily, and I don’t like to talk about my feelings. I know, ironic, right?” He laughs at himself, and I can tell he’s being honest. He’s like a dentist with bad teeth. “I never remember to take out the trash. I don’t cook. I give horrible back rubs and massages. Oh, and I’m a total slob,” he adds.
“I’m glad we got that straight,” I say, returning his laughter. He doesn’t know that the right person can change everything. That’s okay. He doesn’t need to.
“Has anything like this happened to you before?” he asks next, even though we still haven’t established what this is, but I’m not going to argue with him about the transference issue. I’m just going to let that one pass because if we spend too much time on it, I might end up really upset, and I don’t want to get angry. Nothing good comes out of me getting angry.
“What do you mean? Like with my clients?” Does he really think he’s the only one whose clients develop feelings for him?
“Sure. That works. Anything ever happen there?”
“I’ve had it happen with clients before.” I had clients promise to leave their wives for me. He’s not as special as he thinks he is.
“What about with Isaac? Did you develop transference there?”
His question catches me off guard, and I stumble backward mentally. It takes me a second to recover and find my voice. It’s too late to change my face. He’s already seen what his words did to me. “I mean . . . um, Isaac was never my client. It wasn’t like that between us, so I’m going to have to say no on that one.” It’s a terrible answer. He knows it too.
“Do you think it’s possible that you projected your maternal longings and desires onto Isaac?”
“Is it possible?” I reflect his question back at him. “Of course it’s possible. Anything’s possible.”
“But is that what happened?” He’s not letting me off the hook that easily. Not after we’ve come this far.
“No, but that’s what Amber thought was going on too. She thought I was going to step in and try to be this weird second mother to him. Like I thought I could do it better than her or something.” I shudder at the idea of being Isaac’s mom. In the beginning, maybe, but that’s not where things progressed or where they were ever meant to stay. There was a soul recognition and connection between us, so the normal rules and pretenses didn’t apply to us. Neither did the labels. But I explained that to Dr. Stephens yesterday, and he still isn’t listening. He doesn’t get it. Is it possible today will be different? Doubtful.