The Challenges of Being a Therapist's Partner

Being a therapist is, I have to confess, an odd profession. You spend your professional time living inside someone else’s experiences (and interpretations of those experiences), and then, throughout a typical day, you do the same thing over and over—different people, different experiences.

But then the workday is over and you go back to doing “normal” things: you go grocery shopping, walk the dog, or go out to dinner. Often, you’re with a person you love and to whom you’ve made a commitment—your romantic partner—and you can’t really talk about your day!

And if that isn’t enough of a challenge, imagine this: You’re at a party and run into one of your clients over the Chablis and canapés—with your partner at your side and part of the conversation. You can’t ignore each other, obviously—but what do you talk about? Small talk is the essence of a cocktail party, but not even close to what happens in therapy. And how do you include your partner (and potentially your client’s partner) in a conversation that is going to put at least two of you in an awkward situation?

It's tricky in that ethically I can’t talk about who is and isn’t my client; the onus is on them to “out” our relationship. Some do—and some don’t. When they don’t, any conversation is uncomfortable and almost disingenuous. Even when they do, it’s not easy.

Different Kinds of Intimacy

Part of the awkwardness stems from the fact that therapists develop intimate relationships with their clients. Partners, too, develop intimate relationships together. The nature of the intimacy is naturally radically different; the roles and power structure are different; but that doesn’t mean the therapeutic relationship doesn’t include an intimacy from which “real life” partners are excluded.

So when you run into a client or former client when you’re out together, it’s not only uncomfortable but also potentially hurtful to your partner who’s observing the shared intimacy. This may be especially true if your partner hasn’t themselves been in a therapeutic relationship, an experience that might give them a handle on understanding its nuances.

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Looking at myself and my husband in these social situations, what I see is him witnessing those intimate dynamics and not quite knowing how to balance his natural feelings of exclusion while also honoring my ethical code. I try to take my cues from the client or former client and hope that we can bring our partners fairly painlessly along.

My husband and I were recently in Boston at a design awards soirée—his professional area of expertise—and wouldn't you know it: Right outside the building, I saw a car I recognized as belonging to a former client who’d terminated gracelessly. We were early, so not many people were in the room, and there was my ex-client with his partner!

My partner only saw two gay men, whereas I saw a situation brewing; and of course, my husband made a beeline for the other gay couple. My former client was obviously trying to place me—then he caught sight of my nametag. “Oh,” he said casually to his partner, “it’s Rick Miller, he was my therapist for a while.” Oh. OK.

It Complicates Things at Home

Partners sometimes feel judged by their therapist spouse, and in turn, have a tendency to return that perceived judgment as well. My own partner regularly complains that I’m “assessing” him—I’m not; I’m just saying what I think, like anyone else might.

But in times of stress or disagreement, it can be difficult for our partners to not perceive us through the lens of our profession. I know a therapist whose partner routinely claims she doesn’t leave her expertise at the door—but what does that even mean? Her expertise is a part of who she is. It shouldn’t be overtly part of the relationship; but we can’t just leave it behind, either.

Another potential problem is that partners often inadvertently assume “first lady” status. When we do run into current or former clients of mine, they tend to scrutinize my partner for information about me. Who is he? What does he do? What does he bring to the relationship? How does he behave? Does he reflect well on his partner?

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My husband sees that—so in turn, he’s had to learn to be both careful and contained. Current and former clients have a natural curiosity about my private life, and my partner’s presence in public with me feels, to some, like an invitation, an opportunity to find out more about me and our marriage.

How Can You Navigate Life When Your Partner is a Therapist?

I’ll be honest: I tried interviewing the spouses/partners of a substantial sampling of therapists and it immediately became clear to me how well-trained they were; no one was willing to talk about issues or offer advice, presumably so they would not violate any kind of confidentiality in any form. That brings me to my first bit of advice:

1. Try and channel the professional energy your partner uses in public, and consider adopting your own persona to slip into that when it happens.
2. It’s essential for you to have regular honest conversations with your partner about the challenges you're facing.
3. Remind your therapist partner that professional chitchat and the use of jargon can exclude you.
4. Appreciate that when you ask your partner who they’re speaking to and don’t get an answer, it’s OK not to know any details.
5. Be in therapy yourself, both for support around your own experience and to more deeply understand the therapeutic relationship.

To one degree or another, each member of a couple has to make concessions and adaptations around their partner’s profession. Congratulations—you’ve picked one of the more challenging ones! But it can also be rewarding and enriching as long as you establish clear boundaries together and give each other the benefit of the doubt. We all want our relationships to work; we can make it happen together.

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