I heard someone complain once: “I want my friends to listen and my therapist to give my advice. But it turns out, my therapist listens and my friends give me advice.” This observation raises questions about the role of therapists in relation to friendship. What we seek in friendships – understanding, sympathy, solidarity – is also what we seek in our therapist. Yet, the therapeutic relationship is not a friendship. Although there are elements of the therapeutic alliance that overlaps with friendship, a counsellor serves a purpose distinct from that of a friend. This article outlines a few vital distinctions. I shall leave aside the psychotherapeutic component and focus exclusively on the elements of counselling that resemble friendship.
Friendships form under a variety of conditions: shared interests and experiences, situations that spark a mutual camaraderie. Personalities are gravitational fields that attract like bodies. In the company of friends, we feel the warmth of togetherness, the joy of each other’s presence. Friends bring joy to life. In friendship, there is an implicit contract of mutual care. This is not an explicit or overt expectation, and not usually a feeling of entitlement. The warmth of togetherness that we share with friends, something distinct from what we expect of acquaintances and strangers, marks a closeness that promises comfort in times of difficulty. Friends are not mere acquaintances; they comes through for us in times of need. While care is not the only defining element of friendships, it is a vital one. Some friendships are only premised on shared interests, but not on the implicit expectation of care. We can have friends with whom we enjoy football games, but we do not expect this cohort to accompany me through a difficult divorce, let’s say. These are casual friendships that brighten our days with good company, but we are not disappointed when these casual friends do not come through for us. However, other friendships are built on a deeper foundation of mutual involvement, a trust and solidarity that reaches beyond shared interests. The duty of care runs deeper in these friendships; it is what makes these friends precious.
That we expect our friends to care for us (and vice versa) seems to be a fundamental requirement of friendship. However, the quality of care we provide each other does not figure into the criteria of friendship. Friends must care, but their capacity and skill as carers do not seem as vital in a friendship. We don’t tend to sever a relationship when a friend is clumsy with words, or doesn’t know how to make chicken soup when we come down with a flu. A friend may not be a good listener, or may struggle to offer comforting insights. However annoying their blundering efforts, we recognize their good intensions and overlook the shortfall. There is usually no rupture in the relationship. A friend’s conspicuous absence during my time of need, however, throws into question the future of the friendship.
Because there is no guarantee and no requirement that our friends be good carers, only that they indeed care, we look to professionals for skillful attention. Consider the rudimentary element of human connection: listening. The ability to listen seems to be in short supply. I am referring to a deep, active, thoughtful listening that does not aim to dispute, interject, criticize or redirect the speaker. This is listening that a speaker can bask in; it is a spaciousness in which the speaker hears their own voice with renewed clarity, in which we feel ourselves affirmed by someone’s undivided attention. Good listeners are exceedingly rare. In a culture of constant chatter, people assert their voices with vigour. The capacity to listen is the first casualty of a clamorous culture. While our friends may care about us, as children of the culture they may not be able to listen in ways that we find healing. When they struggle to listen, they have not failed as friends, but have rather demonstrated human limitations that constrain each of us.
Here is where a counsellor offers what friends cannot. By providing a safe space of deep, empathetic listening, the counsellor holds a space for reflection that our culture has so callously denied. In an ideal world, we would all be better listeners. We would attend to loved ones with the empathy and understanding that facilitate their growth and healing. I find it ironic that deep empathetic listening has become the purview of trained specialists, who sell their services for money. On the other hand, the price of counselling therapy puts a numeric value on something priceless; it underscores the tremendous service to others when we attend with utmost care and devotion. Friendship offers a suite of joys that fall far beyond the counsellor’s mandate. We do not go on Sunday morning hikes with our therapists, nor do we sit down to an afternoon pint with our counsellors. Therapists are not present at our graduation, nor do they deliver toasts at our wedding. These are the purview of friends who accompany us through life’s many passages. However, sweet they may be, we cannot expect our friends to be drinking buddy, confidant, and sage all at once. For more trusted counsel, we look to others with professional qualifications. This does not detract from the value of our friendships. Therapists offer what many of our friends cannot: a warmth of understanding, a coolness of objectivity, a position from to point out our blindspots. Conversely, friends give us what a therapist cannot: a sense of kinship, the bond of a shared life, levity and joy that comes with companionship.
If your friends fall short in providing solace in difficult times, please give them lots of grace and understanding. Enjoy them for who they are. A counsellor offers insights, analytical experience, psychotherapeutic expertise, in addition to providing a safe space for reflection. Friends and therapists each have their place in different moments in life.