Creative & Reflective Writing Group for Therapists – starting Sat 30 Jan 2021 on Zoom


Back in October I launched the pilot of this writing group for therapists and I’m both delighted and humbled to say that it was everything I hoped it would be. Myself and that particular group are going to continue meeting on a monthly basis in the new year, and in the meantime I will be starting a new intake from the end of January. Again, the principle aim is to provide a creative peer outlet in which to explore both the personal and professional sides of being a therapist – a mix of individual creativity, self-care and reflective practice, run over six fortnightly sessions.

Each session is 2.5 hours and they generally revolve around two structured writing exercises, with time after each for sharing/listening/discussion. There is a short break halfway through. One exercise will be more towards the personal creativity end of the spectrum, with a greater focus on the participants’ sense of themselves and life in general, without an explicit link to their therapy work (though of course there may organically be some crossover). The other exercise is generally more directly related to the work of being a therapist, say by asking participants to reflect on a specific professional aspect/experience and then using this as a springboard for a particular type of writing. 

After each session, I usually provide some kind of handout/reading to participants if there is an area they would like to continue to develop outside of the meetings. Participation at all six sessions is not essential but there is a deliberate flow over the course of the days, so for group cohesion and to get the full breadth of the experience full attendance is preferable whenever possible.

There is a flyer with more detail below – click the orange text to download as pdf. If you are interested, please get in touch and/or share! First session will be Sat 30 January and all sessions will be delivered through Zoom.

Simon Article – ‘Writing Therapy and The Power of the Pen’

This is a bit of a mouthful, but I recently had the opportunity to write about writing therapy for – and now that the writing is done, it is available to read at the above link. Many thanks to Vanessa Fox O’Loughlin for the invitation – I feel this is a good synthesis of my feelings towards the medium and it features sound punctuation to boot (according to my retired journalist father!). If you would like to explore the idea of writing in therapy, do get in touch.


“Relentless restlessness…”

I recently read this fab article by Holly Williams: ‘How Björk has helped me heal from heartbreak’ – concerning the author’s relationship with Björk’s 1997 album ‘Homogenic’ and its ‘remarkable remedial power.’ To me, there’s always been something beautiful around the idea of an artist’s creative output exerting an empathic healing quality far outside its own parameters, and this article prompted me to reflect on my own journey with Björk over the years. In the past few weeks, I have been particularly drawn to the 2007 track ‘Wanderlust’:

Björk – Wanderlust (Vulnicura Live)

The lyrics marry well with the landscape I find myself in now – embarking on a journey into full-time therapy provision, to also incorporate therapeutic writing group work. Drawing on David Byrne, I might ask myself ‘How did I get here?’ – and surprisingly, there is a fairly simple answer. Like Björk, I have in my adult life always been drawn to a need for movement and space, where new ideas, ways of being, experiences and so on can take seed and grow – pretty in keeping with the dictionary definition of ‘Wanderlust’ as ‘A strong desire to travel.’ 

The phrase she uses, ‘relentless restlessness,’ perhaps contains something of a double-edged quality – on paper at least, the idea of being ‘relentlessly restless’ might not sound too comfortable, but it is the core ethos behind this that speaks to me – not so much a sense of nomadic rootlessness but a liberating state of always being open to the next step of the journey and the challenges it may bring. When she says ‘I feel at home whenever the unknown surrounds me,’ there is a sense of unbridled possibility and courageousness – to stare a path shrouded in fog in the face and not only keep walking, but to do so with joy, anticipation, even a sense of belonging.

I am reminded here of the innumerable journeys I have been on with my clients over these past several years, and how their willingness to take those steps into the unknown (often so terrifying to start off with) are the foundations of every single thing they will subsequently build in their inner and outer landscapes. At some point or other, the fear may indeed morph into something closer to what Björk describes – comfort in the movement, even a sense of adventure as the path continues to evolve and new features pop up along the way. I suppose this is my hope for myself now, too – but of course only time will tell what the landscape will look like in the years to come. Whatever it may be, I am heartened that its origin lay in a spirit of creativity and movement… or, simply put, wanderlust.


Creative & Reflective Writing Group for Therapists – starting September 20


A new venture! On the back of my studies in creative writing for therapeutic purposes, I am hoping over the next few months to trial a 6-session writing group designed specifically for counsellors/psychotherapists. The principle aim would be to provide a creative peer outlet in which to explore both the personal and professional sides of being a therapist – a mix of individual creativity, self-care and reflective practice.

After core training there isn’t always a huge amount of courses, workshops, etc. available that focus on personal development for therapists so this group would hopefully bridge that gap a little, while giving space to reflect on professional development also.

There is a flyer with more detail below – click the orange text to download as pdf. If you are interested, please get in touch! First session will (hopefully) be Sunday 20 September at Insight Matters, 106 Capel St, Dublin 1.

Creative + reflective writing group flyer


Punk Rock Doesn’t Give a Shit about Your Inner Critic

I’ve been listening to a lot of punk recently, bands like Minor Threat, Bad Brains and Bikini Kill. This is a natural progression from the punk that has populated my music taste since I got into the Stooges and the Ramones at the age of 17 and never looked back. Punk can be almost simultaneously silly and serious, political and personal, high-stakes and throwaway, but whether it’s the Sex Pistols seeking to dismantle the monarchy, Kathleen Hanna refusing to let anyone dictate her choice of best friend, or the Replacements advocating running a red light, the common thread is nearly always some overarching element of rebellion.

There is a great clip of punk-precursor legends the New York Dolls playing BBC music show The Old Grey Whistle Test in 1973 (watch it HERE). They perform ‘Looking for a Kiss,’ a swaggering sneer of a song that draws on the badass attitude of ‘60s girl group the Shangri-las, filters it through the glam rock of Bowie and Bolan and then coats liberally in NYC grime. As with the entirety of their Todd Rundgren-produced self-titled debut album, it is a defining moment in the evolution of not just punk, but rock music in general. And yet at the end of the performance, host Bob Harris appears and dismisses the band as ‘mock rock’ with a self-satisfied smirk. This kind of reaction is exactly what punk exists for. It says, we may not be as proficient as those beardy musos over there or have a ton of 12-string guitars, mandolins and Moog synths colonising our stage but we believe in what we’re doing and we won’t let you tell us otherwise. In other words, a giant fuck you to the status quo and a clear message to it that things are changing and it better watch its back.


So what are the benefits of a punk attitude from a therapeutic point of view? To me, whether it tangibly feels like it or not, therapy itself is often an act of rebellion, particularly when it comes to things like self-worth and the desire to live authentically. You’ve been raised in a certain environment. You believe you should be and act a certain way. You’ve internalised messages about yourself from the people around you. You end up believing some of these even though they are self-critical and have a corrosive effect on your self-esteem. You’ve learned what constitutes acceptable and unacceptable behaviour in the eyes of social and/or family norms. You fear what would happen if you were to step outside of these. You self-censor. Or, you mentally challenge these ideas and then feel guilty for it. You cultivate an invisible and deeply personal antenna that alerts you to when you have committed a transgression. You listen to the little voice from your past that tells you that you’re bad, stupid, weird, awkward and unworthy of love. You get stuck in a place that isn’t authentic to what you actually want for yourself, and life goes on around you. Damn.


What does punk say about all this? Punk challenges you to say NO. Punk challenges you to identify a status quo that no longer serves you and stand up to it. Punk challenges you to be and act and do in a way that feels right for you. Punk challenges you to be visible and unashamed. Punk challenges you to get angry for what you’ve gone through and put up with and settled for and had to listen to and then channel that feeling into creating something better for yourself. Punk challenges you to be friends with who you want and to consign the people and things and inner voices that hold you back to the trash can. Punk challenges you to be goofy and stupid sometimes and just go with it. Ultimately, punk challenges you to resist, rebel and reclaim, and this is what also makes therapy punk. So the next time your inner critic starts up with its usual cyclical crap, maybe try reaching for your inner leather jacket and shades and tell it where to go. Or to quote Minor Threat:

Before you take another crack
And slap yourself on the back
Before you tell me what you heard
And sum it up in one word
Before you start talking shit
Before you throw another fit:




Workshop! Creative Writing for Self-expression and Mental Wellness (Sat 15 September 2018)


Following the success of our first foray into the world of co-facilitation, I am delighted to announce that myself and author Claire Hennessy will be holding another ‘Creative Writing for Self-expression and Mental Wellness’ workshop on Saturday 15 September.

As before, it will take place at Big Smoke Writing Factory (Harcourt St, Dublin 2), and aims to marry myself and Claire’s dual passions for creativity and good mental health. Various writing forms are used to explore and expand one’s emotional vocabulary, offering a supportive environment for creative experimentation and sharing.

The workshop will run from 11am to 4:30pm, with a lunch break. No previous experience is required.

Students on PCI College’s BSc (Hons) in Counselling & Psychotherapy can count attendance as 4 CPD hours – if this applies to you, just flag with me on the day and I will organise an attendance certificate.

For further info or to  book a place, please visit Big Smoke’s website by clicking the text below:

Creative Writing for Self-Expression and Mental Wellness

Please feel free to share with anyone who may be interested!


Workshop! Creative Writing for Self-expression and Mental Wellness (May 19th 2018)


It will be my pleasure on Saturday 19 May to co-facilitate a one-day experiential workshop with long-time friend, old work colleague, and fabulous writer Claire Hennessy. Taking place at Big Smoke Writing Factory (Harcourt St, Dublin 2), the day aims to marry myself and Claire’s dual passions for creativity and good mental health. To quote from Claire’s post on the Big Smoke website:

This one-day experiential workshop… is ideal for anyone interested in creative writing as a tool to help express themselves and as an activity that can contribute to mental wellness (as well as being fun and rewarding in its own right).

Co-facilitated by writer Claire Hennessy and counsellor Simon Forsyth, this workshop invites participants to engage in a variety of exercises with an emphasis on:

  • demystifying creativity
  • finding a vocabulary for emotions
  • becoming more comfortable with committing words to the page
  • sharing (if so inclined) creative work in a safe and supportive environment

No previous experience is required.

For further info or to  book a place, please visit Big Smoke’s website by clicking the text below:

Creative Writing for Self-Expression and Mental Wellness

Please feel free to share with anyone who may be interested!



Self Care #3: Little Wisdoms (in Yellow)


Hello room service? This is Marge Simpson. I’d like a hot fudge sundae… with whipped cream!… And some chocolate chip cheesecake!……… And a bottle of tequila!!

Self care can come in many guises, and so too can the inspiration for it. When I was a child and teenager I was pretty much obsessed with The Simpsons, and though I haven’t watched a new one in a long time, I can still recite bits of countless older episodes word for word. I recently re-watched an episode from 1992 called ‘Homer Alone,’ in which Marge has a nervous breakdown and checks in to the aptly-named Rancho Relaxo to recuperate. The put-upon workhorse of the family finally has some nourishing me-time and she takes full advantage of the rare opportunity, culminating with her scoffing ice cream in the tub while watching ‘Thelma & Louise,’ bottle of tequila at her side. It sounds decadent but this is a quintessential moment of glorious self care. With that as a foundation, here are three more instances from the show that have helped remind me to look after myself.



‘Trust in yourself and you can achieve anything’ (from Lisa VS. Malibu Stacy, 1994)

16 - 1

In this episode the ever-plucky Lisa takes on Malibu Stacy, the Simpsons world equivalent of Barbie. Disgusted at the disempowering rhetoric to emerge from the new talking edition of the doll (‘Don’t ask me – I’m just a girl! *giggle*), she tracks down the product’s hermetic creator and together they launch a more enlightened talking doll with feminist leanings called Lisa Lionheart. Aside from reminding girls that they can keep their own names if they choose to get married, the doll also includes the wonderful little affirmation of ‘Trust in yourself and you can achieve anything.’ In times of stress it can be very useful to simply take a moment to step back, breathe for a minute and try to not get overwhelmed. Going further though, how about actively reminding yourself that things will probably be okay, even if they look like a mess right now? Obviously some situations are more grave than others, so it won’t be universally applicable, but I’ve found it personally useful for traversing those little everyday stresses that seem to accumulate.

For example, I was on a bus recently, mentally calculating the seemingly insurmountable number of work items I had to check off before going on holiday. Not unsurprisingly, I then became aware of a feeling I think most of us have some experience with – that anxious sense of defeated helplessness that at its core represents a doubt in one’s expected ability to cope. It is very easy in such situations to go along with that inner voice and feel overwhelmed to the point of believing that things won’t work out. It may also be tempting to engage in avoidant behaviours that temporarily assuage the anxiety, but may then boomerang back as evidence that, yes, you were right to think you wouldn’t be able to cope and now look at the amount of stuff you still have left to do and you have even less time to do it! Argh! On that bus, I suddenly found Lisa Lionheart’s words comforting and empowering. ‘Trust in yourself and you can achieve anything’ – this brings us from a place of creeping self-doubt to one of pure self-belief, and the knowledge that we are often our own biggest obstacles in achieving our goals. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to couch this sort of reminder as a small form of self care/compassion – as in, I care about myself enough to not let any self-defeating thoughts get in the way and succeed in convincing me that I’m not the worthy, capable person I know I am. I will get the job done. Even from a linguistics point of view the shift here from passive to active (‘It will get done’ versus ‘I will get it done’) is an empowering one. Things won’t just magically realise themselves- you will be the agent of their completion, and that needs to be acknowledged! So, I stepped out of that anxious mind frame and simply trusted that I would be able to get it all done – and I did. As odd as it might sound to attribute such meaning to not just a cartoon, but a cartoon talking doll, Lisa’s affirmation of self compassion was instrumental in letting this happen.



‘Just do a half-assed job!’ (from Simpsoncalifragilisticexpiala-D’oh!-cious, 1997).


In this episode the Simpsons acquire a Mary Poppins-esque nanny called Shary Bobbins. In one scene Shary entreats the children to tidy Bart’s room, to familiar moans and groans. Shary’s solution? To tell them (through song) that:

If there’s a task that must be done

Don’t turn your tail and run.

Don’t pout,

Don’t sob,

Just do a half-assed job.

Now, this is obviously not meant to be taken as universal life advice, however I do think that it speaks to the wisdom of knowing when ‘good enough’ is indeed good enough, instead of constantly seeking perfection in all things. The latter may become such a fundamental imperative to a person that their bar is raised so impossibly high that nothing they do will ever be truly good enough to them. This can be a frustrating, exhausting and lonely place to inhabit, crippled by dissatisfaction and lack of self-belief. Offering oneself the compassion to not be perfect is also a display of great self care – like saying, ‘I don’t expect you to push yourself to the brink this time – you can just do a good job.’ Naturally this is going to be much easier said than done for someone who has got so used to striving for the upper echelon of achievement in everything they do, but with some self-exploration and mental restructuring, it is not impossible. I suppose one of fundamental questions here would be, ‘What would it mean if you didn’t do this thing perfectly?’ – getting to the root of one’s perfectionistic tendencies, and how this interacts with our core sense of self, may be the first step towards a place where the idea of doing a ‘half-assed job’ doesn’t sound like such a dreadful transgression. Incidentally, this idea may work quite well in tandem with the previous affirmation of trusting in yourself and your ability to achieve anything – even if that means achieving it imperfectly.



‘Just don’t look!’(from Treehouse of Horror VI, 1995)


In this Halloween episode, one vignette (‘Attack of the 50-foot Eyesores’) sees Homer inadvertently unleash a parade of gigantic, disgruntled advertising mascots on Springfield. As they proceed to destroy the town Godzilla-style, Lisa teams up with singer Paul Anka to persuade the townsfolk that if they don’t pay the monsters any attention they will, like all ineffective advertising, disappear. Their chosen medium? A catchy jingle called ‘Just Don’t Look.’

How one earth does this relate to self care? Modern technology! The ability to be constantly connected to the world absolutely has its up sides, but this is being increasingly marred by a sense of mental overload and fatigue. I frequently hear people talk about the double-edged sword of mass communication – the yearning to switch off (figuratively and literally) and not be involved for even a short period of time, tempered by a seeming need to keep connected, often typified by the wonderful acronym FOMO (‘Fear of Missing Out’). In the same way that one is conditioned on some level to answer a phone if it rings, many people are now becoming similarly wired to engage with each and every alert, whether it be an email, text or Facebook update, instantaneously, seemingly without any semblance of free will to actually decide if one wishes to be updated or not.

It may sound melodramatic but I truly believe that this can constitute a threat to one’s mental wellbeing. The ability to simply be is already hard enough to cultivate, and technologies that function to keep us permanently connected to the outside world intrinsically work against this. A possible solution? Just don’t look! I have started playing this jingle in my head when, for example, I see a work email notification come in on my day off. Previously I may have given in to curiosity and decided that it was no big deal to ‘just see who it’s from’ but more often than not this simply served to distract from moments of rest, relaxation or personal nourishment, such as spending time with a friend or loved one. These self care moments are compromised when we are drawn back to another mental state (for example, the dutiful worker, family member, caregiver, citizen, etc.) and because we spend so much of our time fulfilling these other roles, it can be difficult to simply park and go back to fully enjoying what we were doing before. Mentally humming ‘Just Don’t Look’ has proven to be a simple but effective reminder that the external world is generally not making me engage with it – most often I still have a choice as whether to do so or not, and deciding not to has been very rewarding. The next logical move beyond not looking is actually to turn the phone OFF or to go out without it – an increasingly alien concept but one that can be extremely liberating, if a bit disconcerting at first. Why not try it out?


The Creativity of Therapy

Beach House meadow pic
Beach House

Several months ago I became aware of a niggling feeling that my life was lacking in a sense of creativity. Corresponding with an actively artistic friend in the US, I lamented that the most tangibly creative thing I had done in what felt like an age was compiling the mix CD I was shortly going to post to her. Now don’t get me wrong – I put a lot of time and care into that mix CD and actually got a great amount of pleasure from listening to it myself afterwards, but somehow it didn’t seem enough. I was reminded of a feeling I had in my late teens – while a large portion of my friends were busy displaying their creative chops in various bands, I occupied the more sedentary position of musically-ungifted music-obsessive. You could ask me anything about Björk’s latest offering or the hot new band to come out of New York (this being the post-Strokes early noughties), but in more actual terms my creativity on that front was seemingly confined to the curating of, again, mix CDs. It seems this vague sense of ennui had persisted on some level since then – dissatisfaction at being the perennial audience member but never the creative driving force.

More recently, however, I have been reassessing this somewhat one-sided view of things, opening my mind to the wider scope of different ways one can be creative. For example, writing this blog is creative, but so is making up a nonsensical song in the shower. Chief among these explorations was the realisation (and something I had never concretely conceived of before) that therapy, as a process, is a deeply creative endeavour – and this is something I engage in with other people every single week. I was inspired to this thought after reading an interview with one of my favourite bands, Beach House, in the aptly-named article:

Beach House on creating your own world

Equally apt was the fact that it came from The Creative Independent, a Brooklyn-based initiative whose goalis to educate, inspire, and grow the community of people who create or dream of creating.’ That’s a whole lot of creativity going on.

Like the typical therapeutic relationship, Beach House is made up of just two people, Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally. Starting with that principle, I was struck by some of the similarities between the pair’s musical and songwriting partnership and the partnership I aim to establish with my clients – one of equality and respect that is also constantly evolving. As Legrand elaborates,

It’s always changing and it’s also always surprising us, too. I think we are still finding new ways of working together. It’s not something predictable. Yesterday we were talking about this, I was saying, “Isn’t this funny how we’re doing this now?” Or, “This is different than it used to be. I like this. I’m glad we’re doing things this new way.” I think you never stop getting close to somebody. In any partnership it’s a lot of hard work, but when you get past the fact that it’s hard work, there’s this nice oasis where it does feel effortless and you get these little surprises.

To me, this is very much akin to how the therapeutic relationship gradually deepens over time, from early days possibly characterised by a sense of optimistic apprehension to a freer sense of shared intimacy, where being oneself with another feels more comfortable, less scary. And this is creative. Therapists help their clients to explore, challenge, accept, adapt, plan, move, and so much more. We can aid them in reassessing a life situation, give perspective on how they can reform or reject the status quo, and then bear witness as they reshape their pasts into a more satisfying present. Doing so is not as simple as merely sitting across from someone and asking them how they feel (in spite of the enduring therapist stereotype). It requires curiosity and creativity from the practitioner, and an equal dose of the same from their client – after all, what could be fundamentally more creative than forging a new or more authentic path for oneself? As Legrand expands, from a musical standpoint:

It’s really just a journey for each individual… Maybe you’ll discover through music that you’re actually a painter, so maybe you should do that instead of trying to be a rock star. Maybe you’re something else. I think that it’s just about asking questions, but also producing things and making stuff. It’s the only way, really, to find out who and what you should be… Being creative, making things, figuring yourself out—that’s never a waste of time.

Ultimately, the spirit of creation and creativity, of embarking on a journey into the unknown, of asking questions and figuring things out, or, to paraphrase David Bowie, turning to face the strange (ch-ch-changes), is really at the heart of the therapeutic encounter. Now all I need to do is create a mix CD that sets these ideas to music… Suggestions?


Beach House’s latest album, B-Sides and Rarities, was released in June of this year. Listen to its lead single below:

Beach House – ‘Chariot’

To be or not to be (an openly gay therapist)?

Joe Caslin Marriage Equality mural Dublin
Joe Caslin’s iconic Marriage Equality mural on Dublin’s George’s St, April 2015

Firstly, this is a reflection based on my own experiences and is not intended in any way as a judgement towards other therapists in a similar position, nor is it intended as a didactic call to arms for mass change. I would simply like to share my thoughts and potentially start a dialogue.

So, I was recently invited to contribute a short biography for inclusion on the Insight Matters website. For continuity, I decided to go to my Nozomi website and basically copy some of the main points I had written there about me and my approach to therapy, and thus offer a summary for anyone looking at my bio on the IM site. I came to the part about the kinds of problems I have helped my clients with, and as usual I mentioned that I have worked with sexuality, identity and LGBTQ issues. As I breezed past this element of the list, however, I became aware of a feeling of dissatisfaction with the phrasing – something in me wanted to make more explicit my connection with the final part of that trio. So I removed ‘LGBTQ issues,’ replaced it with simply ‘sexuality/identity,’ and then formed a stand-alone sentence (written in the third person, as is the norm for these kinds of things) that read something like He is especially interested in mental health issues that affect the LGBTQ community. Then I stopped and considered how this might read to someone who has never met me, either personally or professionally – someone who is simply reading my bio on a website and has no prior knowledge of me whatsoever.

So, why is this guy especially interested in mental health issues that affect the LGBTQ community? As a concerned citizen? As a curious outsider? As a professional who maybe just has a lot of gay clients, regardless of his own sexual orientation, and has decided to specialise in this area? Or, is it because these issues are actually part of his own story? For me, the most honest answer is the final one – so I found myself wondering, what would it be like to make that clear? On this blog I have made my love of music and nature plain for all to see. Conversely, though I have also done posts about Gay Pride and my thesis, which centred on gay and lesbian experiences, I consciously fell short of definitively saying, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m gay.’ As this thought came to me I felt a conflict that has resonated in me on some level for a long time, even though I came out many years ago. I have lived nearly my entire adult life as an openly gay man, and yet something in me, every now and then, still makes me stop and say to myself, ‘But do they really need to know that about you?’

When I open this question up (as Panti did in her fantastic Noble Call speech in 2014), I can see all sorts of traces of shame and embarrassment that have lingered on in me from the days when I actively worked to hide my true identity from the world. It’s not a nice feeling. Having got through those times when universal concealment was second nature, I now strive to uphold the principles of honesty, openness and being yourself. Yet there was still a part of me that looked at that contentious sentence and said, ‘Ah sure, it’s grand.’ But it wasn’t. For me (and just for me), leaving that sentence as it was felt like I was somehow colluding with that feeling I had when I was younger that told me to keep quiet and not ‘bother’ anyone else with my sexuality. After all, it doesn’t define me, does it? No, but being gay is part of who I am, and I don’t necessarily want to keep that under wraps.

Now, there are many schools of thought in the world of counselling and psychotherapy about how much or how little a therapist should self-disclose to their clients, and clearly this is an extremely important boundary to maintain. Obviously if the therapist habitually reveals inappropriate and irrelevant details of their private life to the client, then that is wholly unprofessional. But to me, stating that I am gay in a public forum is not inherently inappropriate or irrelevant. If I am meeting the client as I am, simply as another human being (albeit one who has training and experience in a specific helping profession), then putting a blanket over the potential for them to find out that I am gay because of a desire to maintain a certain professional distance or perhaps even a personal fear of judgement/disapproval would be somewhat incongruent – if I am to assist someone, of any sexual identity, to work towards fully becoming themselves and being proud of who they are, for what they are, then I feel it would be a shame for me to cover up my own personal appreciation of the difficult journey they are undertaking.

On a more general note, if someone sees the ring on my finger they might assume that I have a wife, and though statistically speaking this isn’t an unreasonable assumption (after all, most men in Ireland who wear a wedding band do have wives), I don’t want that to always go without correction – not because the idea of having a wife or of being thought of as straight is fundamentally intolerable, but simply because it’s not the truth. I don’t have a wife – I have a husband. That is the truth. So I changed the sentence. It now reads, He has a particular interest in mental health issues that relate to the LGBTQ community, being gay himself. I altered the phrasing a few times, shifting the ‘gay’ bit here and there until I settled on the above – and it felt right… Yet, I still have this kernel of doubt questioning whether the move was altogether too daring or somehow improper!

At any rate, here is a link to a 2015 doctorate thesis I found on the topic (by coincidence, it shares a similar title to this entry):

To Disclose or Not To Disclose? The LGBT Therapist’s Question

It is by Adam Harris of the University of Lincoln, with pages 53-82 comprising a journal paper authored by Harris, David Dawson, Roshan das Nair and Dominic Davies (of UK-based gender and sexual diversity therapy organisation Pink Therapy) that offers a good overview. I wholeheartedly agree with one of their concluding statements, that ‘it could be essential that non-heterosexual therapists are encouraged to discuss, explore and reflect on the potential psychological impact that having to conceal their sexual identity is having upon them and their clinical practice’ (p.76). It was in the spirit of discussion, exploration and reflection that this blog entry was written.

Any and all thoughts welcomed.