#maternal transference

[hel7l7]

She gave me something no one had ever given me before. She was like a mother to me. Of course I miss that. 

[faithhopeloveandtherapy]

No self disclosures please T

T asked me today if I wanted to hear her story of when she put in a complaint about medical treatment. (It was a very relevant suggestion given what we were talking about.)

I said no. I nearly said yes because my instinct was to be polite and say yes of course I want to hear your story. In the past, I might also have said yes because T talking takes the pressure off me having to talk, and sometimes that need felt important enough to override whether or not I wanted to hear what she said.

Anyway, I thought about saying yes, but then I realised that I didn’t really want to hear her story so I shook my head, no. If she complained to the hospital, that likely involves her being in a position of vulnerability beforehand, and as much as T might want to tell me that story to do a bit of the whole “don’t put me on a pedestal” thing, I can’t deal with it. I don’t want to know about any of that side of her life as a human being. I just want her to be strong and grown up and perfect. I know she’s not, because obviously she’s human, but for me I just want to keep thinking of her that way.

I cannot bear to think of my mum being hurt or upset. As a child it used to feel absolutely unbearable and world-ending when I saw my mum upset, and I still can’t deal with it even now, even with (supposedly) the benefit of an adult viewpoint. Maybe I don’t actually have an adult viewpoint because whenever it happens, I’m just triggered back into those childhood feelings and responses. Anyway, the whole maternal transference to my therapist is strong, we both know that, and so I feel the same way about T as I did (and do) about my mum. I don’t know if it needs to be worked through eventually - but I’m pretty resistant to the idea.

[thistherapylife]

Is it common for people to wish their therapist was one of their parents?

It’s not uncommon for people to clients to experience maternal or paternal transference. Here is a pretty good breakdown of transference in general. But yeah, it definitely can be something that comes up for some clients. It can be really useful information in the therapeutic relationship. 

[hel7l7]

I’m 22  15 and everything is fine,

except that my therapist is my mother. And that never really goes away. Someone told me that maybe it was my age. That somehow my body has not forgotten yet, how it felt to be little and need that motherly warmth. I can deny needing this, - lie with hands fisted in my lap But each time I close my eyes it’s her.  I am 22 and everything is fine,  except that my therapist isn’t my mother. And never has been. Still, I wish for her to hold me. Imagine her kitchen blue painted and warm. September sun marking the tile floor. I find her. I get lost in the city I’ve now lived in for over a year. Feet wandering but mind knowing damn well where I was heading. Making my way to the edge I said I’d stop looking down from. Don’t know where she is, but see her everywhere. My mother but not in blood Found more hate for her than my own mom ever got. Cannot tell the difference between warmth and heat. Burned myself on the wrong ones over and over again. Left her years ago. But keep her in my dreams. Some nights it is this; Hospital beds with caring mothers around me.  All of them so eager to help me, Hold me, Wipe my tears, save me from myself I am all theirs and they hear me, see me, feel me, Want me around and won’t ever let me go. Lies don’t exist, and when they promise me to stay I believe them. Most nights it is this; The world on fire/there is war/I am alone. All is dark and I am lost, trying to find my way through mazes no one has ever gotten out of run for my life as I try to save those who I love the most. There are no mothers here. It is just me, the weight of the world is in my hands once again, and no one sees I cannot carry it. until, - She is there. Relief. Warmth. Safety. I fall to my knees, beg for her to help me. But nothing.  Eyes find me but I am invisible. Want them to yell at me, come after me with fisted hands, Hate me with burning desire at least give me something. I am screaming, begging for their love.      Shame filled, raging child, Unable to get any recognition for their pain. I wake. 

I am 22 and my therapist is not my mother.

I am 22 and my mother is not my mother.

Everything is fine.

[hvrtingeyes]

why does grief still wash over me some nights? i think back to certain moments with my previous T when i felt cared about, seen, heard, and it breaks my heart that i’ll probably never feel that way again or trust anyone like that again.

[faithhopeloveandtherapy]

Maternal transference

We were sat in our seats at church this morning when an older couple who have been in the church for a long time came and sat behind us. The woman reminds me so strongly of my therapist. In fact, she was the lady my friend had to go through when she set me up with T in the first place. Whether this lady still remembers that I am me, the one with the eating disorder from five years ago, I don’t know. But I remember that she did once know this private undisclosed information about me.

I have a strong maternal transference for her, even though I hardly ever speak directly to her. We see each other at the service most weeks though, and if I ever saw her outside of church I’d stop and say hi - although I did once see her at the gym and I actually ran away before she saw me 😂 I think I’m a teeny bit less avoidant now though.

When I see her in church, it makes me feel close to T, especially because I know she is friends with T in real life. And I have a little fantasy that her and her husband invite H and me round for lunch, and then we sit and have a little heart to heart and I tell her all about my messy life and she listens and cares and says let’s get together on a regular basis so you can tell me how you are doing because I want to support you in your life and recovery and fostering and I want to look after you.