Am I Your Worst Client?
One of the things I hear surprisingly often in my counselling room is:
“I must be your worst client.”
Closely followed by:
“Are your other clients as difficult as me?”
And then, usually with a slightly worried look:
“I’m sorry I’m being difficult.”
Sometimes there is an added promise:
“I’ll try harder.”
Or perhaps my personal favourite:
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
And every time I hear this, I have a little moment of thinking...
Oh goodness, what have we done to ourselves as humans that we think we have to be a good client?
Because, quite honestly, what does an ideal client actually look like?
I'm imagining someone who arrives exactly on time, has remembered everything we talked about last week, has reflected deeply on their emotions, completed their therapeutic homework and perhaps even brought a colour coded spreadsheet.
“Good morning. I have identified seven childhood patterns, three attachment wounds and my core belief. Shall we begin?”
If only.
The reality is rather different.
Clients forget things.
Clients change their minds.
Clients talk about something completely different from what they said they wanted to talk about.
Clients arrive saying, “I don't really have anything to talk about today,” and then 60 minutes later we're wondering where the time went.
Clients sometimes get angry with me.
Sometimes they disagree with me.
Sometimes they don't understand what I'm saying.
Sometimes I don't understand what they're saying.
Sometimes we go round in circles.
Sometimes we have a really profound conversation.
And sometimes we spend ten minutes talking about something that, on the surface, seems completely random, only to discover that it is actually connected to everything else.
That is therapy.
And, actually, that is being human.
“I'm sorry I'm being difficult.”
When someone says this to me, I often become curious about the word difficult.
What does “difficult” mean to them?
Is it having needs?
Having boundaries?
Not agreeing?
Being angry?
Wanting reassurance?
Not knowing what they feel?
Feeling stuck?
Taking longer than they think they should to “get better”?
Or perhaps they've spent much of their life trying very hard not to inconvenience anyone.
So now, sitting in a counselling room, they are worried that they're inconveniencing me too.
And then there is the fear of disappointing me.
“I don't want to disappoint you.”
That can be a really important sentence.
Because counselling isn't school.
There isn't a report at the end of term.
I'm not sitting there with a little clipboard thinking:
“Hmm... Must try harder. Could make better use of therapeutic time.”
And there certainly isn't a league table.
Although, if there were, I'm fairly sure my clients would be relieved to know there are no prizes.
“Congratulations! You have achieved Gold Status in Emotional Processing.”
I'm not sure that would be particularly therapeutic.
So, have I had difficult clients?
Yes.
Of course I have.
I'm a counsellor.
I'm human.
And my clients are human.
There have been sessions that have been challenging. There have been relationships that have required more thought, more reflection and more supervision.
There have been moments when I've gone away thinking:
“Hmm... I'm going to have to think about that one.”
And that's okay.
Actually, I think it's important.
Because I don't want to work from the belief that every client should fit neatly into my preferred way of working.
That would make my job considerably easier.
It would also make me a rather rubbish therapist.
My clients are not there to make my working day comfortable.
They are not there to reassure me that I'm a good therapist.
They are certainly not there to protect my feelings.
Sometimes they need to challenge me.
Sometimes they need to tell me I've got it wrong.
Sometimes they need to tell me that something I've said hasn't landed well.
And sometimes the most valuable thing that happens in therapy is the conversation that follows:
“I didn't like what you said last week.”
That can be a very important conversation.
Because therapy isn't about creating a relationship where nothing ever goes wrong.
It's about creating a relationship where, when something does go wrong, we can hopefully talk about it.
Have I ever had the “ideal” client?
I honestly don't know what that would look like.
And I'm not sure I want to find out.
What I do know is that I've had the clients I've needed to have.
Not because they were easy.
Not because they always did what I suggested.
Not because they neatly followed the therapeutic plan.
But because every person I've worked with has taught me something.
Some have taught me about courage.
Some about grief.
Some about resilience.
Some about boundaries.
Some about the incredible things people can survive.
Some have challenged my assumptions.
Some have made me laugh and even cry.
Some have made me think very deeply.
And some have probably gone away wondering whether I was their most difficult therapist!
And that's okay too.
My clients have taught me
The longer I do this work, the more I realise that being a therapist isn't about having all the answers.
If anything, the longer I work, the more comfortable I become with saying:
“I don't know.”
And then getting curious.
My clients have helped me grow not only as a therapist, but as a person.
They have made me reflect on my own assumptions, my own reactions and the ways I understand people.
They have reminded me that everyone has a story that I cannot see simply by looking at them.
And they have reminded me, repeatedly, that people are wonderfully complicated.
Which is probably why I love this work.
Because there is no standard human being.
There is no instruction manual.
And unfortunately, nobody arrives with their emotional IKEA instructions neatly folded in the box.
We have to work it out together.
So, if you've ever thought...
“I'm probably your worst client.”
Please don't worry.
You don't need to be the ideal client.
You don't need to impress me.
You don't need to make me proud.
You don't need to try harder because you're frightened of disappointing me.
You can come in confused.
You can come in angry.
You can come in and say, “I don't know what I'm doing here.”
You can change your mind.
You can disagree with me.
You can tell me I've got it wrong.
You can have a week where absolutely nothing seems to have improved.
You can laugh.
You can cry.
You can sit in silence.
You can be complicated.
You can be human.
And perhaps that is the closest thing there is to an ideal client:
Someone who is willing to turn up as themselves.
Not perfect.
Not polished.
Not “easy”.
Just themselves.
And perhaps my job isn't to have the perfect clients.
Perhaps my privilege is that, over the years, I've met some of the most wonderfully complicated, courageous, frustrating, funny, heartbreaking and resilient human beings.
And they have all, in one way or another, helped me become a better therapist, supervisor and human being.
So, to all those clients who have ever looked at me and said:
“I'm sorry I'm being difficult.”
I would say:
You don't need to apologise for being human.
Although...
If you do fancy bringing the colour coded spreadsheet next week, I won't complain.
I'll probably just want to know what it says.











Comments