Ending Before We'd Barely Begun

"We have something to talk about," my therapist said to me as we started our session in her clinical yet oddly cozy office.

"My family's moving to Pennsylvania," she said, "and I'll be closing my practice on October 20."

I listened quietly, trying not to become emotional, as she explained how this would affect my treatment.

"There are a couple of doctors I can refer you to that specialize in eating disorders. One of them lives in your area. Would you like me to give you her name?"

After briefly entertaining the idea of going it alone, I took the doctor up on her offer.

"How do you feel about this?", she asked.

"Well," I said, "finding a therapist that you connect with can be really difficult."

My soon-to-be ex-therapist nodded her head in agreement.

"So I'm a bit disappointed to be losing someone who really got me."

Without me having to explain further, the doctor acknowledged my concern that my next counseling relationship would be inferior to this one. And though she spoke highly of the woman she was referring me to, she admitted there was no guarantee that the new counselor and I will work out. She encouraged me to give it a try anyway and I agreed.

We then went on to have one of our best sessions ever. She counseled with abandon, giving me all the psychological insight she could muster . She was even more open than usual, offering personal information she'd never shared before, like her husband's occupation -- a Presbyterian minister -- and the reason for their move --a job offer as a senior pastor.

After our time was up, she expressed her gratitude for having had the opportunity to work with me and I did the same. After wishing me well, she sent me on my way to start all over again with someone else.