I am a therapist and it has ruined me…
My struggles in surface level conversation
‘Hi, How are you?’ ‘I’m good you?’ ‘Yeah, I’m alright thanks’… This staple opener to any conversation is usually followed by ‘How are things?’ and eventually meanders towards updates about the family, work life, the house, the children and so on. These conversations are needed and help us to build relationships with others over time…But I, Elliot cannot stand them.
‘Where shall we begin? So, How are things? Or What has it been like to be you this week?’ might be the way we begin the therapy hour. A supervisor once said to me that therapy sessions are all part of a bigger conversation, strung together with a golden thread. As we step into the therapeutic space (physical or electronic) we tap into a specific way of engagement. Holding our previous conversations in mind when the session starts, I am asking ‘How are you really…’ a gentle nudge to lift the mask and step into vulnerability.
If you have experienced counselling sessions before you will probably agree that they are a little weird. You talk to someone you do not know and share things about your life and experiences, thoughts, hopes and pains, consider some solutions for your emotional regulation or steps to help your diagnosis and then you leave and return the next week where you do the same thing again. (As I write this I brace for the responses of my distilled outline of therapy from my colleagues- Yes, it is more elaborate than this- just go with me!)
Meeting in this space of relational depth means that we can continue that golden thread, we can pick up where we left off 3 weeks ago or revisit that event from last year. The nature of therapy means that anything and everything can be communicated through spoken words, drawn images, silence, tears and smiles. Because there is the safety of confidentiality, that what is shared will not leave the space, this can create a unique environment that can be incredibly liberating for you, and honouring to witness as the other human in the room.
Entering this depth of relationship for therapists is a privilege, and that is why we found ourselves here- we know that life can be complex, messy, beautiful, and healing and we want to offer you that space just to be. Most therapists probably are in the profession because they found counselling so beneficial to them- for me, it is my ‘pay it forward’ to other humans. The levels of trust bestowed upon me, the honour to witness struggle, defeat, despair, glimmers of hope, growth and flight is unlike anything I have been able to partake in. Building these connections with humans who often remind me of myself, or people I have known in life teaches me not only empathy but a greater sense of compassion. Having these conversations of depth and vulnerability throughout the week has however made my skills of small talk blunt and amusing.
‘You looked so bored Elliot, you might want to work on your face’ was a response I got after I engaged in a 3-minute conversation about the curtains. CURTAINS. If you have a particular affinity towards these window clothes, go for it, but I struggled in that conversation. And the worst part was I knew my face was betraying me…
Having in-depth conversations about things that significantly influence and impact a person’s life multiple times a week makes you forget sometimes that most of our human interactions perhaps do not function at such a deep level. Even in my reciprocal relationships, I find that the visit to surface-level conversation is very brief before we nose-dive into the details of our worlds. We want to be known and know others, a hallmark of what it means to be human.
If I have my counsellor ask me ‘What comes up for you when you think about surface-level conversation? With people you don’t really know?’ It is boring. I’m bored. I sit with people who share such detail and depth and then must talk about whether the rain will stay away or if I’ve seen Traitors on the BBC. ‘Why is it so uncomfortable?’ Because I don’t know what to say. I fear saying the wrong thing, not having anything to comment on or talk about, I fear the judgement of others who are well versed in surface-level conversation. Where do you think this comes from? Probably from being told implicitly or explicitly that I don’t fit in. Or having a response that people laugh at which communicates to me that maybe I got it wrong. And so…? So this means I feel more comfortable in depth because I am familiar with the space, I know it, it is familiar, mentally and emotionally stimulating and I don’t get bored.
Surface-level conversation is not for me and I struggle to navigate it. Perhaps the light does leave my eyes for a few seconds while I am there and return when we hit some depth. But I know that you need to have those few conversations to build relationships and trust which then allows you to nose-dive into the realities of life. Maybe it is a swinging pendulum, you have got to have some easy conversations to balance out the depth.
Does being a therapist mean I may not be the perfect surface-level talker? Perhaps. Does it influence it? Absolutely! And if anything, it has made it even more clear to me how much I squirm making chit-chat.
I suppose for me the whole idea is about pressing into the uncomfortable, being curious, learning to control my facial expressions and accepting that I might have to endure a few moments of conversation in the clouds to begin to have depth at a later stage.
