(uplifting music)
- You know, one of the most interesting things
about being a therapist is,
I mean, I would argue that in many ways,
a therapy room is a bit like
a modern day confessional of sorts.
It's a unique space
where confidentiality protects the conversation.
What you say in there, stays there.
It's sort of like the Vegas of conversations,
or the Vegas of, sort of medical spaces.
And what that means is people can open up
in such a unique way in a therapy room.
One of the things that is most striking to me
about how actually mean people are to themselves
is when it comes to the space of fantasy,
we all have them.
And yet there's so much shame
and so much guilt about having fantasies.
I can think of more than a few clients,
and this is over 20 years of being a licensed therapist.
People will come in,
and they will look almost sheepish,
like a little kid,
like they stole a cookie out of the cookie jar.
And they'll say, I wanna say something.
And I'm really uncomfortable.
They'll share with me that, I don't know,
maybe they, they felt a little flutter
'cause they had an exciting conversation
that sort of engendered and excitement in them,
sort of, again, it was a fantasy.
These people were not about to tear apart their marriages
or go and have a sexual liaison with this person.
But they felt guilty
for having sort of a fantasy moment,
saying like, I'm actually kind of excited
about our meeting tomorrow.
And for the first time,
it's making me think like,
ooh, what's wrong with me?
I haven't felt like this in 20 years.
The funny thing about therapy
is that a lot of times people say,
you shouldn't be having these fantasies.
And the temptation is to judge.
And to me therapy done well
is where you don't judge these fantasies.
And in fact, I tell a lot,
in fact, every client I've ever worked with on this,
I'm like, let's turn this room into a mental experiment.
I want you to take this fantasy and take it forward.
And people would get completely shocked.
Are you kidding me?
I can't say this.
And I'll say, say it.
And then you'd watch them relax.
And then sort of look dreamily off in the distance
as though they were planning their dream vacation
and really, really talk about it.
But the fears and guilts that would come up for them
and saying, oh my gosh,
if I'm thinking like how wonderful it is
to spend time with this coworker or this jogging buddy,
and sometimes it's not even a sexualized fantasy.
It's the idea that a colleague said,
hey, we could use someone like you in our New York office.
And the person knows darn well, they can't go to New York.
They still have marriage, kids,
commitments where they live.
But for a minute, they let themselves go there,
and say, what would that life have felt like?
Having a fantasy isn't a betrayal.
And that's one of the places I start with clients.
I'm like, I say, let's play this out
and find out why is this so compelling?
Because the one thing that happens,
whether it's the jogging buddy
that's pushing you to do the marathon,
whether it's the colleague
that's really by your ideas,
or whether it's somebody else who says,
have you ever thought of doing this
'cause you're really great at this?
That it's a moment when you feel really seen
in a big, bright, clear mirror,
and that you're able to see possibilities in yourself
you didn't ordinarily see.
I try to explain to the clients
who bring fantasy in the office
that falling in love is actually not about other people.
It's really about yourself.
And when you're at your best,
or somebody sees you at your best,
it really feels like an extraordinary,
transformative experience.
And therapy, a place we so often think
is about mental illness,
or helping me 'cause I'm so anxious,
or I'm so sad,
is also a place where I find, with my clients,
we can tap possibility.
I remember working with one woman in particular
who had never dreamed of going on,
taking on a particular venture.
She had really been sort of, I don't know,
really kind of kept into her role,
as a wife and as a mother,
and doing some volunteering.
But she showed me something she had done
and it was really stunning.
And I thought, why aren't you doing this all the time?
Like, this is the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
And she said, it's funny you say this,
this guy who I was working with on this project,
and her face changed.
And there was a real beauty,
and a youth, and a light to it.
It wasn't about the guy.
It was about the creativity.
It was about opening up something in herself.
The minute she talked about the guy, she got very,
she held back, and she's like, (gasps)
oh my God, I feel like I'm a horrible woman.
You would have thought she was already in bed with the guy.
And I said, no, no, no, no, no.
Let's talk about what this fantasy is telling us.
It's telling us a story about you.
A story you haven't felt ready to tell.
I tell everyone, I don't care if you're in therapy or not,
one of the most magical spaces in therapy, for me,
is when my clients come in with their fantasies.
They're nothing to be ashamed about.
They're nothing to feel guilty about.
I don't care if they're sexualized.
I don't care if they're aspirational.
They can be a really powerful place
that open your eyes up to what you're about.
And if anything,
may actually strengthen your own relationships
where you might feel emboldened to share
some of your aspirations,
your creativity in other parts of your life.
A part of you awakens
when you allow yourself a fantasy space.
If you're in therapy, take it into therapy.
But more than anything, I feel it's a privilege
to hear people's fantasies and not judge them,
but do that for yourself, too.
Because it really may open a new story in yourself
you didn't know existed.
That's the kind of magic that can happen in therapy.