"It is a joy to be hidden, and a disaster not to be found.” – D. W. Winnicott
Therapy, at its best, is a sanctuary—a place where the psyche can soften, reorganize, and begin to heal. But not all therapeutic relationships are healing. Some become subtly (or overtly) exploitative, mirroring the very dynamics of neglect, intrusion, or manipulation that a client came to escape. In such cases, the rupture of the therapy relationship can itself be traumatic. And when a client, still caught in the web of unfulfilled attachment needs, moves into a new therapy without careful reflection or support, they may unknowingly repeat the past—sometimes with devastating consequences.
This article is not about blaming therapists. It is about taking seriously the complexity of human vulnerability—on both sides of the therapeutic relationship—and naming how easily the dynamics of early trauma can be replicated even in supposedly “safe” spaces. Especially when those spaces are misunderstood or misused by the therapist.
The Unmet Attachment Need
A client who has experienced a harmful therapy relationship (and ending) often leaves not only hurt but confused—still psychologically entangled with the former therapist, which will be most likely a repeat of earlier more significant attachment bonds. Attachment bonds, once formed, are not easily seen as such or "undone". Even when the relationship was deeply problematic, the longing to be understood, soothed, and seen persists. This is the child’s need that never got met. And now, in the absence of safety, it becomes even more urgent.
In this state, the client seeks another attachment figure. Another opportunity. A rescuer. A better “good object.” This desire is raw and primal, and a sensitive therapist will feel its weight in the countrr-transference—the grief, the rage, the helplessness, and the hopelessness.
But not all therapists can hold it.
Some become frightened by it. Some mistake it for pathology. Others—consciously or unconsciously—begin to exploit it. The client, vulnerable, angry yet eager to attach, may become a source of professional gratification: a case study, a loyal follower, an income stream, or a means to confirm the therapist’s self-image as a healer.
Becoming aware of this may cause the well meaning therapist to withdraw!
It is important to recognize: not all re-traumatizations are intentional. Some therapists truly mean well, but act out their own unresolved dynamics through the therapeutic relationship. Others are more predatory. In either case, the result is the same: the client becomes trapped in a new dynamic that may be just as violating as the one they escaped.
How to Protect Yourself After a Harmful Therapy Experience
If you have experienced a harmful or disturbing therapy relationship, your longing for help is real—and valid. But so is your need for protection.
Here are some ways to guard your psychological integrity while seeking a new therapist:
1. Pause Before You Attach
If possible, give yourself time to reflect on what happened in the previous therapy. Write about it. Talk to trusted friends. If you can afford it, work with a clinical supervisor, therapist-consultant, or trauma-informed practitioner whose role is explicitly to help you make sense of what happened—without requiring you to form a deep attachment right away.
2. Interview Your Next Therapist Carefully
Before committing, ask difficult but essential questions:
Have you worked with clients who’ve had traumatic experiences in previous therapies?
How do you handle strong attachment dynamics in therapy?
Are you open to discussing power, authority, and rupture in the therapeutic relationship?
What’s your stance on clients reading or accessing their notes?
Have you had your own therapy or supervision around enactments and countertransference?
A good therapist will welcome these questions. A defensive or dismissive response is a red flag.
3. Look for Evidence of Accountability
Ask if the therapist participates in regular supervision, consultation, or peer review. Are they open about their own learning process? Do they acknowledge the possibility of mistakes—not just theoretically, but in practice?
4. Trust the Small Signals
Pay attention to how you feel during early sessions—not just what’s said, but what’s implied. Do you feel pressured to commit quickly? Are your questions answered with openness or with evasion? Do you feel that the therapist is attuned to your pace—or trying to fit you into theirs?
5. Name the Wound
If you feel able, tell the new therapist what went wrong before. Share your fears. The way they respond will tell you more than any credentials or training ever could.
A Final Word
Winnicott taught us that the therapist’s task is not to be the perfect parent, but to survive the client’s need for one—to hold space for the unmanageable without collapsing or retaliating. This is a sacred responsibility, and one that too often gets lost in the competitive, performative culture of modern psychotherapy.
No one can ever fully prevent harm, but we can increase awareness. We can speak the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. And we can remind ourselves—and our clients—that even when the first (or second) attempt at healing fails, the possibility of a more real, more honest connection is still alive.
There is hope in a hopeless place.
The therapeutic relationship can hurt. But it can also heal. And the difference lies in whether the therapist can truly see the person before them—not as a project, not as a product, but as a human being whose utterly hopeless.
I believe it is this hopelessness, the confrontation of that bottomless abyss, that we are all so afraid of, even if it is mostly unconscious -- because it is so terrifying.
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| Stare into the abyss, and the fear is, the abyss will stare back into you.... |
© Maja Farrell
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