Friends = therapists?
“I’m tired of being a therapist for my friends. I need a ‘therapist’ as well. You know what I mean?”
After hanging out with a friend, who complained about work for the whole two hours we were at a cafe, one of my other friends shared her frustration with me on our way back home.
And her comment triggered me to reflect on the difference between friend and therapist. As I mentioned earlier, recently I started seeing a therapist. Before that, I had this prejudice against therapy: in a therapy session, you are the one who does the most talking and in the end, you feel like you paid just to have someone listen to what you had to say. Hence, without thinking, I often said “I could have been a therapist!” or “What is the point of seeing a therapist? I have friends!”
My prejudice is shattered into pieces after I experienced a few therapy sessions, though. I got to realize there are some major differences between therapist and friend.
First of all, I rightly expect my therapist to pay all the attention solely to me because I pay for their service that comes with time and space. Unless it is for my concerns, I expect that they don’t think about other clients or anything else when they are in the session with me. In other words, I own the session. I don’t need to be mindful of whether I fairly share the time with your therapist. I get all the time and space to put my thoughts and feelings out there.
Once I place all my thoughts and feelings out there, therapists start their work. They carefully observe not only the type of thoughts I bring out but also the way I bring them out. Based on that, they suggest different ways to look at my… beautiful mess. Then, they help me rename and sort out the mess. In this way, I become more aware of my own emotions and get to organize my thoughts and feelings on my own terms.
Finally, therapists are there to solve my puzzles. Once they are solved and I stop paying for their service, my relationship with the therapist does not stand any longer. They do not hold any responsibility to call me up out of nowhere and ask ‘how are you doing?’ (of course, they can choose to do so out of care!)
These realizations made me rethink the friendship. And I came to the conclusion that I do not want to make my friends my therapists for the following reasons.
First of all, friendship is not a contractual relationship. It is a voluntary relationship I choose to build. It can be fragile because of that. Either one of us can always end it (and so many are ending naturally). Despite the odds (of maintaining friendship), why do we try? I think that’s because we, or, at least, I long for a deeper connection.
Also, my friends are not there just to listen to my stories. They are there to share life with me. They are there not only in bad times but also in good times. What we do is to create occasions — events, trips, or fun dates — to spend quality time with each other and have life companionship (besides the romantic partner). This consistency that my friend brings in makes me feel grounded and stable in life.
But because they are friends, they are willing to listen to my thoughts and feelings. And, because they know what it feels like to be heard and understood, they want me to experience the same. So, they kindly put their ideas away and give their presence to me. Friends are not a trash bin to which I can just vent out my feelings. Their will to listen and empathize with me should not be taken for granted.
Of course, what I wrote here is quite subjective. Subjective to my perception but also the time I live in. I live in this part of the world where ‘give-and-take’, or ‘fair exchange’ is predominant and it turns on my emotional calculator back of my mind to check if I am not receiving too much from a friend or if I am not giving too much to a friend. So, sometimes, I wonder what friendship might have been like in different times. But I know. When you are friends with someone, you want to reciprocate what you have received from the friend. And I want to cherish that feeling.
