The renowned family therapist is back doing what he loves best:
fieldingreader questions and telling people the things friends and loved
ones are too polite to say.
DEAR DR. FRANK,
After reading several of your responses to Psychology Today
readers, I felt compelled to comment about your sarcastic answers. Your
replies, while at times humorous to those of us who don't have these
particular problems, may be considered crude, sarcastic, and downright
mean to those asking for help. Your advice should offer guidance and
hope, yet from what I've read, you choose to demean and make fun of
people. If they can get past that humiliation there are usually some good
suggestions. Why not just offer assistance without kicking a horse that's
down?
Unamused nurse
Dear Nurse,
You have raised important questions not only about my function in
this forum but also about the nature of therapy. As I try to fulfill my
responsibilities to readers who need clear and direct counsel,
professional readers who need sharp insights, and nonprofessional readers
who need reassurances of the kindness and sweetness of therapists, and as
I try to make my counsel entertaining enough to keep people reading, I
have to make delicate choices. The Psychology Today audience has widely
diverse levels of sophistication about therapy What offends one reader
may heal, delight, or enlighten another; and of course, offense may be in
the psyche of the offended. But most therapists understand that humor is
a necessary ingredient of therapy. Therapeutic humor is barbed. It stings
a bit as it goes in, which makes it stick and enhances its
effectiveness.
Therapists have a tricky job. They must make people aware that
something is amiss in their behavior, their emotional responses to life,
and their view of reality Therapists tell people the things their best
friends are too polite to say. They often have to verbally slap people's
hands. They must make people aware that even if they must not do what
they do, it is okay, even lovable, to be merely human and to feel what
they feel. (Therapists and patients must realize that it is safe to feel
things only if you know you don't have to act on the feelings.)
Therapists must relieve the shame of not being perfect, the isolation and
self-pity that make people hide from others. We must assure people that,
whatever the history or pain behind the symptom, they can change, and
change can be fun. Finally, the most important task of therapy is to
connect people with the human condition: the human "comedy."
I am suspicious of therapy that merely makes patients feel loved
and that accepts their feelings. This can further isolate tortured people
and create dependency on the warm, accepting therapist. I am convinced,
after 30-plus years, that humor is even more central than personal warmth
and emotional tolerance in converting the tragedy of people's lives into
something closer to comedy Tragic people feel they are alone in their
miserable life, and that only they are struggling with their unique
demons. Because they see their emotions as unique, they don't realize
that other people have felt what they feel and have learned to make
different choices -- and they can, too.
Comic people are all in it together. They may be making a mess of
it, but they are not alone with their temptations, their suffering, and
their embarrassments. To paraphrase Walpole, life is a tragedy to those
who feel compelled to act on their feelings, but it is a comedy to those
who stop and think long enough to laugh at themselves and then do what
would work rather than what they feel like doing.
As a therapist, I must be a surgeon, not a masseur. I must use
words to cut into people's psyches to take something out, put something
in, or rearrange things, and my sharpest tool is humor. I want my humor
to be ironic and uniting, laughing together at what fools we mortals can
be. And I want it to stick, to remind people how foolish it would be for
them to act or think or feel in the same old ways; and to make them laugh
at themselves instead.
I hope I never sound sarcastic, derisive, contemptuous, or
rejecting of anyone. I don't want to distance people by laughing at them,
but rather bring them closer so we can laugh at life together.
I try hard to bring people insights that are challenging, sharp,
specific, and taunting enough to be memorable, to stop them from ever
doing the same old thing again without pulling themselves up short. I had
hoped warmth and kindness came across in my writing, and it saddens me if
I sound mean when I invite people into my less tortured world.
Obviously, some people need more soothing than others, but people
so delicate, alienated, and ashamed that they can see humor only as
ridicule and rejection need a happier therapist to call them out and play
In my articles as in my practice, I try to be that happier therapist. I
may not be very funny, of course, but it is central to my job to
try.
DEAR DR. FRANK,
My sister's husband came on to me at a family get-together when we
were alone in the kitchen. He'd had a lot to drink, so I just chalked it
up to his getting a little too carried away However, he's done it several
times since, when he was stone-cold sober, one time suggesting that we
meet at a downtown hotel for cocktails and "whatever comes next." I know
I should tell my sister, but I just can't find the words. Do you have
any?
Not-so-high-spirited sister
Dear Sis,
Tags:
advice,
best friends,
Choices,
dr frank,
emotional responses,
family therapist,
humiliation,
insights,
kindness,
necessary ingredient,
nurse,
professional readers,
psyche,
renowned family,
sophistication,
therapeutic humor,
tricky job
