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It's Complicated..but I Am In Love With My Therapist!

Life is so strange. I entered into therapy in April of this year to embark on a new journey. One where I could finally begin the process of finding myself, healing and creating my own happiness. According to my insurance company, I'm seeking therapy for depression which isn't untrue. I do have depression but in recent months after a bit of research I labeled myself a sex addict. I looked up the symptoms, read personal stories that all seemed to fit the disease that was ruining my life. My story is complicated much like everything in my life down to the reasons I'm depressed and my personality. I'm a self proclaimed man-hater, feminist and sex addict. Needless to say, my life is complicated and I live in the gray area that most people like to stay out of. I've been through therapy before but I always had female therapists and the type of therapy I got was more of a progressive type. They always wanted me to move on from my past and not talk about it much. It was helpful during that point of my life but now I was searching to go back to my roots, deal with the past, heal and move on. I specifically sought out a male therapist.
I'm not exactly sure why but my thinking was that I could find a male to trust, one that could help me, listen to my story, watch me cry and have empathy and compassion for me and I would be less of a man hater.

Therapy was going great for several months. I always found myself putting him to the test. I would test his knowledge, his abilities, his religious beliefs. I tend to do this with men, it's just an aspect of how try to gain control in a situation where I feel that I am inferior. He didn't talk much, he said he sought to understand first, then give advice.

I actually liked the fact that he didn't give me advice. I liked that he asked questions. His questions weren't the normal, " and how does that make you feel", b.s. either. It was more like a conversation. More like a friend, a friend that I never had.

Sometimes I was sad and I felt his compassion. Sometimes I was happy and I felt him being happy for me. The stories I would share about my life would sometimes send the look of shock across his face, sometimes sadness and sometimes he would laugh and smile at my over developed sense of humor about my life.
He told me I was beautiful when I felt ugly. He told me I was very intelligent when I felt dumb. He told me when I smile my face lights up and I have an amazing smile when I really don't, my teeth are far from perfect and it bothers me to the point that I never smile.

I started to look forward to meeting him twice a week. When I was at home, I would think about him and wonder what he was doing. I once asked him, " am I your favorite yet"? He replied, " I don't have favorites, some people are more challenging than others".

Sometimes I would get upset when I couldn't stop thinking about him because I would realize that I'm paying him to be my fake friend. He's not really my friend, this is his job and he does this for other people too. He doesn't really mean the things he says, he's just trying to help me. Which is what I wanted, I wanted help but for some reason I just wanted to be special to him.

I fought my feelings for a long time. I would refute the things that he would say. If he said he was proud of me I would tell him to not personalize things and that he was proud of what I was doing and not proud of me. My internal dialogue was telling me that he was full of **** and I didn't want to believe a word he was saying.

He kept asking me to "be myself" in therapy and that was a problem for me because I still didn't trust him and I don't know how to be myself because my personality changes depending on the social situation I'm in. He kept asking me why I thought I was a sex addict and my I would tell him why I thought so. He wanted me to show him my "sex addict" side and I kept refusing until one day...

It all started when I would make small flirtations with him and he would of course laugh it off. Then I would ask to sit next to him so I could show him pictures and he would agree but I would always sit pretty far away. I have a large personal space and I don't like to be touched and I don't like people to get too close to me. My arms length is a pretty good distance and that's how far he stayed. A few more times, I would sit next to him getting closer each time. To my shock, I didn't get a tightness in my chest, I didn't panic or sweat like I normally did.
He made me feel safe. He made me feel pretty. I started dressing sexy. I hadn't dressed that way in years. I wanted to dress sexy FOR HIM. I wanted his attention, I craved his attention. Each time he would say, " you look very nice". Each time he would say that, I would crave more and more attention. I started to do a little side research on him. I googled him like crazy. I ended up finding his family members on facebook, just pictures. Then a month later I found his address. My best friend lives near him, the next development over in fact and I drove by his house just to see where he lived. I was so excited to finally see where he lived.

A few weeks later, I mentioned the area and kinda danced around the topic and made him tell me where he lived in a round about way. When he said, "oh, I live in _________," I replied with, yes i know. He didn't freak out like I thought he would. I told him that I would never hurt him and I was just curious and I googled him because I wanted to check things out and make sure he didn't have any sanctions or anything like that and to see if I could prove the things that he told me to be true about where his family members lived etc. Everything he had told me was true and I proved it. I felt even better about trusting him.

I became enthralled by him. Infatuated even. I continued to dress sexy and flirt with him but deny that I did. One day I came in dressed in a pretty black and white dress. I knew he liked bare legs, he had mentioned it before. I also knew that he liked that dress inparticular because I had worn it in my birthday pictures that I had shown him and he loved it. So, I wore the dress and I came on to him really strong. I wasn't my usual, shy, submissive, deflective good girl, I sat on the couch with my legs crossed wearing high heels staring him down. This time I asked him to sit beside me. This time I felt like I was in control of him. I showed him pictures (pg-13) rated and then he moved away from me. I came on strong and he would just smile. I finally told him that I had bigger balls than him and he said, "Let's see". I said, " you first" and he laughed and said oh boy, and said what are you going to give me if I do? I said, well proof! And then it came..... he said, " how about a blow job"?
I quickly said no and changed the subject for a while. Before I left I asked if I gave him my panties would he keep them and he said yes. Then, I left.

The next time I saw him he tried to apologize for asking me for a sexual favor and he said he didn't know what got into him and it would never happen again. I told him I didn't take him seriously anyways and we moved on with our session. At the end, I told him before I left that since he apologized for asking me for a sexual favor that I wouldn't give him the panties I was wearing that day. He looked amazed and baffled. I left.

At the end of the next session he asked me if I was going to give him my panties and I told him that I couldn't because I was wearing spanx and it would be too hard to remove my panties. He asked me to sit beside him and I did and then i started talking about the pictures in the room and the wall color. I knew immediately that I was such a huge tease and never had any intention of giving him anything but I wanted to know if he would actually want it. He let me blab for a while about random **** and then he again asked for my panties. I again, said I couldn't get them off. He asked me to stand up and show him my dress, so I did.
Then he grabbed me, pulled me towards him and pulled my spanx up. I said no and tried to move but he had me tight in his grip. Before I knew what was happening, he had pulled my panties down and stuck his fingers in me. I pulled away again and he pulled my panties down more and then off and I let him so I could get away. He stood up and pulled me close and kissed me. I said no but I was really thinking wow, this is how I wanted him to want me... I think. He kept my panties and I left. He said he would call me the next day to meet on the weekend.

I went home and thought about what happened. A rush of emotions and thoughts. He's married... I thought! Oh, I'm so terrible. I'm married... I thought! His youngest daughter is my same age, oh my god!! He's my therapist... what the ****! It was so wrong and yet, I loved it!

He did call and we did meet that weekend. We met in a public place and he told me that he was sorry that it happened and that it would never ever happen again. He said it was a mistake and nothing like that has ever happened in all the years he's been a therapist. I had mixed emotions. I was so so happy to see him outside the office. I felt special! I was happy that he didn't want to sleep with me but sad at the same time like he was rejecting me. I really just wanted him to love me! I was depressed all weekend.

That Monday, I told him that I had been depressed. He asked me why and I told him I felt bad and that I didn't want to come see him anymore. I felt like he just made me become the thing that I detest the most, A MISTAKE! I had told him several times that my whole life i've felt like a mistake and a regret and I'm so tired of feeling that way. He said he didn't want me to feel that way. I couldn't even look at him that day and he knew it. I told him that I didn't even want to have sex with him, I just wanted to kiss him.

He jumped up and said , ok come here. I gave him a funny look and said no. I told him no because I thought he'd regret it afterward and he said he wouldn't. So I sat beside him and we kissed. He practically ate my face, I could feel his passion.

Since then we have met several times outside of our sessions and I have given him oral sex, we have made out and we've gone to lunch twice. He calls me almost every morning, leaves me lovely voicemails, tells me he's thinking about me. We went out last Friday, he wanted to have sex but I couldn't do it. I'm not ready and it's bad timing because he was getting ready to go on vacation to Italy with his wife for 3 weeks. We went to lunch and we talked for hours. We talked about everything and nothing. We laughed and smiled. When he got up to go to the bathroom, I sent him a text message saying, " I Love You". I asked him to check his phone while I left for the bathroom. When I returned, I acted like nothing happened. He asked me what my message said. He was trying to make me think he didn't get it because he wanted me to say it. I told him that I couldn't say it.

He asked me again in the car on the ride back if I could just tell him and I said that I couldn't because he won't say it back so I can't say it. He said would it help if I told you that when I read your text message, I thought to myself, " wow i'm falling in love with this girl". I felt my cheeks turn red and I smiled but I didn't say anything.

Before I got out of his car, I told him I loved him in a whisper, kissed him and left.

He was due on the plane at 6:45, he called me at 6:15 and he told me that he missed me already! I was so ecstatic to hear that! I couldn't believe that he called me right before he got on the plane and that he actually said he missed me already! I left him at 3pm, it hadn't been that long!

I know all the reasons that this is so wrong but I am in love with this man and this man is my therapist!
NobodyKnowsWhoIam NobodyKnowsWhoIam 26-30, F 2 Responses Jul 18, 2011

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all the best!<br />
<br />
hope things work out well for you.<br />
<br />
God bless!

Love is a slippery concept. Lust, obsession, infatuation, affection, .. all can be wrapped up and look like "love." With your upbringing I think your version of what love is can be different. I avoid using that word just because it is not really a good desc<x>ription of the relationship and feelings.

I agree! I do not have the ability to "love" like the normal person and I'm very aware of that fact. I will never "love" forever except for my children. I have a deeper connection with this man than any before him because he's my therapist. He shouldn't have returned the feelings but he has. I feel like I need this relationship, and when I'm better I will let go.