"Sadomasochistic sex is arguably one of the least understood and most demonised forms of consensual sexuality. How able are we to offer ethical therapy to kinky clients when there is so little awareness of the kink experience?"
Life has aquainted me in the past with ends. I have torn enough pages off the calendar to have marked the passing of close relatives, to have waved goodbye to workplaces and work colleagues, to have shared dinner with them and thanked them for the mantel clock.
2 June Three hours between clients. The sun is shining and it’s a shame to be indoors. The tall front hedge needs trimming and even with my new extendable battery-powered hedge-trimmer it’s a job I don’t relish, fearing one day I’ll over-reach and topple off the ladder
On Tuesday my friend Rachel sent me a text; she was in need of urgent advice. She had had three sessions of therapy following an initial assessment. She had left the last session early, convinced that the therapist was not for her.
It’s time to get some professional help. I’ve selfhelped and self-soothed. I’ve read the books, exercised to increase my serotonin levels, kept busy, kept still, found meaning, embraced beauty and nature
Finding a therapist is a lot like internet dating. You go through a series of unspoken vetting procedures as you tentatively work out whether you are a match for each other. Attracted by what it says on their profile, you make contact by email.
As I stand on the doorstep for my weekly appointment I notice that the pot plants have been weeded. I had remarked a few sessions ago that I was tempted to weed my therapist’s plants as I stood there. Why would I do that?
After weeks of feeling I was getting nowhere, I can honestly say that my therapist and I have made some headway. In a previous session she had used the word ‘victim’ to describe me and asked me why I continued to allow myself to get hurt
Often I leave the therapy room in tears. Last week I arrived in tears. I had had an emotional conversation with my lover on the hands-free as I drove to the appointment.
I’ve had a three-week break. My therapist has been away. Have I missed her? No, not really. It’s been a relief not to have to unpack all my emotional baggage for a bit
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