Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out: The Live Oak Blog, June 2015)

During my first meeting with clients, I try to allow time to talk about what is bringing them to therapy while still saving time at the end of the meeting to talk about how I think therapy works. Sometimes, I don’t have to reserve time for this, because my clients will ask even before we talk about anything else. Other times, I may not be able to do this in the first session, but I try to do it as early in our work together as possible.
 
Part of the reason I share my thoughts about the process of therapy is for people to get a sense of my philosophy and orientation. I hope that this knowledge fosters informed decisions about goodness of fit. I’ve also found that for some—even those who have been in therapy at other times—sharing my perspective on how and why I think therapy may be helpful is not something they’ve heard in the past.

Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out: The Live Oak Blog, October 2014)

• I’d like to see a male therapist.
• I’d like to see a therapist who is older.
• I’d like to see a therapist who takes BCBS insurance.
• I’d like to see a therapist who is a lesbian.
• I’d like to see an African American therapist.
• I’d like to see a therapist who has had depression.

 
I imagine a record screeching to a halt with that last request.  I can hear therapists and intake coordinators around the country struggling with how to best respond.

Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out: The Live Oak Blog, August 2014)

There have been many times over the years, when someone shares with me something new, sometimes even when we’ve known each other for many years.  This comes up not only in my work with clients, but also with people with whom I have had longstanding friendships.  I usually don’t think twice when I’m learning something new at the beginning of a relationship.  But something feels different when I get new information after knowing someone for a good amount of time.
 
With friends, I think I used to feel offended when I learned something I hadn’t known before.  It felt like somehow I wasn’t trustworthy enough to have this information.  Or maybe my friends though I might judge them if they shared something more personal or something perhaps they felt ashamed of.

Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out:  The Live Oak Blog, March 2014)

There is an exercise I facilitate during the first class meeting each time I teach graduate students about trauma.  Before we do the exercise, I ask for people to think about the difference between safety and comfort.  It might seem a strange request to make during the first class, but a relevant one prior to engaging in an activity that invites self-disclosure and possible vulnerability.  Usually, several hands go up in response to the question.  In addition to the hands, there are usually some looks of confusion.  In part, I think the confusion relates to trying to distinguish safety from comfort.  I also think my students are wondering why I am asking such an odd question on the first day of class.