The Phase Nobody Warns You About

There was one stage of counselling training that nobody warned me about.

The “everything is therapy” stage.

At first, I couldn’t get enough.

I read everything I could get my hands on.

Rogers.

Bowlby.

Yalom.

Jung.

Freud.

If someone mentioned a book, I bought it.

If someone mentioned a theory, I wanted to understand it.

The more I learnt, the more fascinating people became.

Unfortunately…

The more fascinating people became, the more fascinating I apparently became to listen to.

Or so I thought.

The wife.

The children.

Even the dog.

Nobody escaped.

I found myself showing empathy in bucketfuls, tilting my head thoughtfully over the top of my glasses and asking everyone how they felt.

I was analysing conversations.

Family dynamics.

Television programmes.

Football managers.

Neighbours I’d never even spoken to.

If there was a psychological explanation, I was determined to find it.

Then came the film.

Halfway through, I paused it.

“I think he’s behaving like that because…”

What followed was an enthusiastic explanation involving attachment theory, defence mechanisms and why the main character probably wasn’t really angry at all.

After successfully dodging a small shower of popcorn and assorted sweets, I was informed—fairly unanimously—that I should leave the room, sit on the bottom step, and not come back until I’d remembered how to behave in public.

Looking back, I suspect they had a point.

I wasn’t trying to show off.

I was excited.

I’d discovered a completely new way of understanding people and, like most people who discover something that changes how they see the world, I wanted to share it.

The trouble was, not everybody had signed up for counselling training.

And not every conversation needs to become a therapy session.

One of the quiet lessons of becoming a counsellor is learning where the therapy room begins and where it ends.

The skills stay with you.

They inevitably shape how you listen, think and relate to people.

But therapy itself belongs in a relationship where it’s been invited.

Sometimes your partner isn’t communicating an unmet attachment need.

Sometimes they’re just trying to watch the film.

And sometimes the kindest thing you can do…

…is press Play.

Looking back now, I smile at that version of myself.

Curious.

Enthusiastic.

A little overexcited.

He wasn’t trying to become a better husband, father or film critic.

He was simply discovering what it meant to become a counsellor.