I’m also grateful for you sharing this article with us @Leigh22.
Additionally, my thoughts below are me thinking in print for ME…this is not a prescription for what others should do. But in reading others’ thoughts, I often find it helpful for me, so I hope that this contribution is viewed in that light.
For context on this quote, the author did put a caveat that this idea was not related to situations where there had been real trauma:
The capacity to stay in relationship through discomfort, rather than exiting the relationship to avoid discomfort, becomes one of the most essential relational muscles we can cultivate.
This part really hit home for me. It’s something that my pastor talks about in terms of the messiness of needing to live and interact with people in a way that our divine creator wants us to, even when we don’t see much value in interacting with those people. It reminds me of the relationship I had with one of my parents. It reminds me even more of my relationship with one of my siblings, which is the closest that I’ve thought about having an intentionally estranged relationship with someone.
Ideally, I’d love to have awesome or great or good relationships with my whole family. But perhaps by staying in relationship with them, I still believe it’s possible to move a poor relationship to an okay-ish one to a fine one in the hopes of maybe getting into a good (or better) relationship in the future.
This is true for my father’s side of the family. He would have regular calls with his parents/siblings (varying between weekly/monthly), but I can count on one hand (maybe two) the number of times I saw those individuals (collectively) in my life. I at least know the names of my aunts/uncles, but I don’t even know all the names of my cousins, and there’s probably not more than one or two that I would recognize if I was just walking down the street. Again, there was no formal estrangement, but I’ve got very little in the way of ties to that whole side of the family.
And going back to the article:
Clinicians are not empty vessels. We are shaped by the stories we hear, the patterns we internalize, and the pain we resonate with.
This is why, as clinicians, we must actively widen our aperture. We must listen not just to the voices we are predisposed to feel aligned with, but also to those whose experiences unsettle or contradict us. Intellectual humility must be a professional discipline.
One could switch out “clinicians” and switch it to “humans”, and I think this would be spot on and would help so many people in the world today.
He may cost a fortune, but it seems promising that your son selected a therapist that the author thinks is pretty balanced in terms of parent/adult child perspectives.