Standing On A Chair

Telling it like I see it…

Rants from the Chair: On What Happens When You Marry Your Shrink – Part 7

I was speechless.  All I could do was to stare into the face of Dr. Andrew Rosenberg, his words, “I think I have fallen in love with you, Jill,” echoing over and over in my brain.

After what felt like an hour of silence, but was likely about ten seconds, Andrew said, “Are you familiar with the term counter-transference?”

Still I said nothing. 

He got up and slid his chair across the small room.  He sat down again, so close to me our knees touched.  He looked straight into my eyes and said, “I love you, Jill.”

My mind reeled.  It seemed I had labored so hard to eliminate my romantic fantasies about him.  It seemed like that was working for me.  It seemed I had grown so much from his therapy.  And now?

“Jill,” he said.  “Are you still fantasizing?  About us?”

“Uh…well um, not really, but sort of.  I’ve been trying not to.”

“We need to talk.  There are options.”

We left his office together and walked down the block to a narrow little bar and restaurant on Rodeo Drive.  There were six white linen-covered tables, and along one full wall was a bar carved from rosewood, with mirrors and shiny brass and copper trimmings.  It was dusk.  We chose a spot by the window and a white-aproned waiter lit a cream-colored candle on our table.  Andrew ordered wine.

I felt out of breath.  Exhilarated, almost.  I looked across the table at this person whom I had grown to admire and respect, one from whom I’d learned so much about becoming more of an independent, strong, confident woman, and I couldn’t believe that this man who knew so much, was so well-educated, knowledgeable, successful and brilliant, had actually fallen in love with me.

He took my hand, held it tightly and smiled.  I felt the rush of all those transference fantasies sweep back over me like an enormous Newport Beach wave.  And I welcomed them, with all their power and longings for a lofty, different kind of love.

“I want to have a baby girl too,” he said.

“A baby girl?”

“Yes.  Like you.  I want a baby girl who will look just like you.”

As I look back on this now, I realize the good doctor had baited me, using his intimate knowledge of me as his patient, to present me with the very thing I’d been longing for…to have a child.  Even down to it being the same gender as my preference. 

At the time, though, I felt like I’d died and gone to heaven.  So I allowed myself to be swept away by him.

But oh God what a wild and crazy roller coaster ride we were in for.

And what to do about Marcus?

Stay Tuned for Part 8

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August 16, 2011 - Posted by | Psychotherapy | , , , , , ,

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