Taking the Shame Out of Therapy by Dr. Deb Hirschhorn

Dr. Deb Taking The Shame Out of Therapy

By Deb Hirschhorn, Ph.D.

Last week, I sat in front of my computer even more hours than usual. I was attending a Zoom class all week towards my certification in IFS (Internal Family Systems). This was the second of three weeks for the program. The first had been in September. True, I’d already devoured four books in the last year and that was after taking an initial class for continuing my licensure credits. But it wasn’t enough for me; I wanted more.

Now the way the class was structured is quite similar to my own program – a little didactic learning and a lot of experiential learning. Since all the participants were therapists, we would practice together, one being therapist and one being client, with a supervisor present who had completed even more training.

Nobody felt reluctant to “let it all hang out” as far as their own feelings of fear, hesitation, or expressing overwhelming emotions. There were a lot of tears, actually. In fact, in addition to these small group meetings, each day there was a demo of “how to do it right” taught by the lead instructor, Mary Kruger, who had trained originally 30 years ago under Dr. Schwartz. This meant that the person who self-selected to be “client” that day had real issues bothering her or him and was willing to deal with them in front of 48 people.

Now, as it happened, I had some misgivings of my own to do such a thing. Last winter, when I applied, I was applying to what was billed as the “Sabbath friendly” schedule, but it turned out the instructor made a mistake, and although there were no Shabbos classes, the first week’s program overlapped with the last days of Sukkos. So I felt weird, like how could I not show up for two days without explanation to my fellow classmates? And what would I say? And how would they receive that? I will freely admit that the current anti-Semitism in this country has made me feel more cautious than I would have in the past. I chose to keep silent, holding in my feelings of not fitting in to myself.

But because this past week I did make all four classes in which there were multiple breaks into the small groups, I got to know the people in my group and started to feel comfortable with them. I was ready to be me. However, I had no idea what I would talk about if I were the “client.” Then we had a didactic session on “legacy burdens,” the pain that is passed down through families and cultures. One person raised her hand to volunteer that her parents relentlessly showed her Holocaust films when she was a child, telling her never to forget, and they burned into her memory and her heart, traumatizing her. While listening keenly to this person, I must have been nodding my head – and Mary noticed. “I see you nodding your head, Deb,” she said. “Did you want to comment?” Her offer was so gentle, I breathed a sigh and took it up. I said that I am scared right now in the present moment because of all the anti-Semitism in this country. And then, having dropped the bomb, waited to see if I’d get funny looks or something from the attendees. But they were silent and respectful. Mary’s face looked kind. In a funny way, I felt like I got included in the group: I had my legacy burdens, too.

Later, we broke up into small groups, and it was my turn to be client. The legacy burden topic had been percolating in my mind. I had this vague feeling that what I wanted to bring up was a frequent childhood scene from my dinner table: My poor, wonderful, but besieged father complaining every day to my mother about the politics at the office. My father, a”h, was the most kindly, sweet person. I adored him. And I was fully aware of the fact that his sweetness didn’t help him one bit at work. I’d thought about this segment of my childhood many times, and also realized that, at some level, I married someone who appeared to be stronger than he was.

But there was a piece of the puzzle missing.

I didn’t even know that there was something missing until that very moment when I was describing this to my small group. Possibly, because I

finally spoke the words that had been way in the back of my mind, I had a new insight right then: I realized that my father’s dinner table conversations made me scared.

I was about 10; I looked up to my parents as all-wise, all-knowing, and yet, I discovered back then that they weren’t. My father was perplexed and my mother, a”h, couldn’t help him; she had no advice for him.

So, reviewing that scenario, I suddenly saw that missing piece in my own mind, my own feelings. It was actually a very exciting discovery, to know myself just a little bit better. Not only that, I could see the connection between those childhood feelings and my own adult behaviors – how I am in social/political waters – and even how those feelings impacted the type of people who became my friends over the years. It was a rich, mind-blowing moment for me.

So much so that I decided to treat myself to therapy with an IFS-certified person.

And yes, I did and do see it as a treat that is good for me in the same way that I enjoy going to my yoga classes and I try to take walks and for sure eat salmon a lot with my avocado salad. I love, love, love the Deb, maybe you did not have abuse in your history. Maybe you had experiences that you were not ashamed of. But not everyone is so fortunate.”

Here’s the thing: Don’t assume. (You know what happens when you take those words apart.) On the con-

I was about 10; I looked up to my parents as all-wise, all-knowing, and yet, I discovered back then that they weren’t.

taste of my (cooked rare) salmon, and I am thrilled when I can hold some crazy yoga pose and not fall over; it’s very delicious and very exciting. So although it is all good for me, it’s also fun. It’s pleasant, enjoyable, makes my day. And so will therapy.

Now, you might ask me: “Well, Dr. trary, my life was about like many of yours. I recall one of my professors back in grad school in Florida saying that people are attracted to the mental health professions because they’re figuring themselves out. We all have had “something.” And that something can’t be weighed and measured as to “how bad” it was. Yes, there are more horrible and less horrible scenarios, but people are affected by the less horrible ones, too, and any impact could benefit from clearing it up and connecting parts of yourself to yourself.

I think that’s what therapy is about: clearing it up and connecting to yourself.

Whether with actual tools such as meditation and IFS or simply being witnessed by someone who “gets it,” the purpose of therapy is to clear what was bothering us, connect to parts of us that seemed lost, and go forward with delight in what life has to offer. There is no shame at any point in that process.

Dr. Deb Hirschhorn is a Marriage and Family Therapist. If you want help with your marriage, begin by signing up to watch her Masterclass at https://drdeb. com/myw-masterclass.