A friend's adult son recently returned home after a failed relationship. When his parents questioned him in hopes of understanding the relationship’s demise and to help him process the experience, they were quite discouraged to learn that from their son’s perspective, “she (his now ex-girlfriend) was always on me for not taking my clothes out of the washing machine when the cycle was done so it had to be rewashed or else it would become mildewed.” Had the son been unfaithful or did the infidelity lie with his girlfriend? Was it financial strain? Immaturity on one or both of their parts? Had the stress of childbearing done them in? Or was it, as the girlfriend claimed, relationship death by a thousand spin cycles?
Since hindsight is 20/20, metaphorically speaking, the story of my friend’s son gave me pause to reflect on a couple I worked with many years ago. In looking back, I regret not having had the confidence, skill, or comfort in using metaphors at the nascency of my clinical career when a couple was referred to me for counseling. And yes, perhaps I should have referred that ailing dyad to a more seasoned clinician, but I was, after all, receiving supervision. In retrospect, my supervisor was very task-oriented, not particularly emotionally focused, and to add just the right pinch of irony, I had recently graduated from a behaviorally- inspired clinical Ph.D. program. At the time, behaviorism seemed like very powerful magic to me, and my supervisor’s cock-suredness provided the necessary added ingredients I needed to help this couple. Ah, 20-20 hindsight!
The husband had come to counseling with his wife under duress — more likely threat of who knows what. He didn’t perceive anything to be wrong in the relationship and couldn’t — truly couldn’t—understand why his wife was “so damn upset with me” over the chicken.” Ah, the chicken! According to the aggrieved wife — and I am paraphrasing from remote memory, “all he ever wants to eat is chicken, whether we eat at home or go out to a restaurant...I’m fed up!” She went on, “he doesn’t even want me to spice it up!”
Although my graduate training and clinical supervision at the time blended to offer me what I thought was the right recipe for clinical success, I’m almost embarrassed to admit to what I did in those tense two or three sessions I had with this couple. I attempted (and you probably have already guessed where this is going) to build a behavioral contract which included small steps the husband would take to diversify his poultry paltry palate which would then be reinforced by the wife. God only knows what I cooked up for them in that ridiculous contract. But they were willing customers, and of course, the counseling predictably ended as quickly as it takes to flash-fry chicken wings. True to form and quite predictably, my supervisor lambasted me for failing to create a sufficiently detailed contract.
What might I have done differently? Well, I might have used the husband’s singular food choice as a metaphor for his desire for certainty and predictability, maybe going as far as he would let me in exploring the basis for that need. I might have reframed his diet as the desire to make it easier for his wife to prepare meals. I might have shifted focus to his wife’s frustration and encouraged expression of what about her husband’s restricted food choice was particularly distressing for her. Or, I might have worked within the metaphor of spicing up the relationship. I certainly would have worked harder to create a therapeutic atmosphere in which emotions could flow freely to the top.
I often wonder whatever happened to that couple who had the misfortune of falling under my care all those years ago. Did the marriage survive my ineptitude? Did the husband ever learn why his wife was so upset about his unrelenting choice for chicken? Did they find their way to a therapist who was able to salvage the meat from the decaying bones of their frayed bond?
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Questions for Reflection
How did the author’s reflections impact you personally? Professionally?
How have you framed/re-framed some of your early therapeutic mistakes?
What might you have done with the couple depicted in this narrative?
What are some of the resources you rely upon when confronted with a challenging case?
File under: Couples Therapy, A Day in the Life of a Therapist, Musings and Reflections