My client, a psychologist by training and fellow traveler through COVID’s unforgiving landscape, had initially visited with me because of anxiety and his growing difficulty managing it. Accustomed to a take-charge style that centered around scanning his environment for potential threats to his family, he had grown tired, not just of the challenges COVID presented, but from the sheer effort and energy it took to manage his anxiety. The details of our work can be found in a recent blog I wrote, so I will fast forward to the later portion of our time together when we began reviewing the path forward for him (and us)—life after therapy.

As we reviewed his progress, it became clear to both of us that he had made significant gains in managing anxiety, breathing a bit more into his life and enjoying moments with his wife and children. All of this without the pressure that came from constantly scanning his inner and outer worlds for threats and subjugating himself to a harsh inner list-maker. His goals were being addressed and he was making significant changes and progress. The time for planning an ending to our work was approaching, so I broached the subject.
The conversation quickly pivoted to the word “termination,” and although I had used it numerous times with past clients and in my teaching and writing, it suddenly felt quite leaden rather than a natural part of the therapeutic process. Perhaps because I was particularly fond of this client, termination felt like a loss and triggered my own attachment issues and deeper existential concerns around loss.

I considered each of these and sought the wisdom of those who had come before me in order to move more comfortably into this uncomfortable space with my client (and myself). From a developmental perspective, termination suggested a separation/individuation process that, while inevitable and painful for some clients, was a harbinger of growth. From a traditional analytic perspective, termination followed resolution of the transference, awareness of defenses, strengthening of the ego, and a lifting of repression, while more contemporary analytic theory favored a more natural progression in the relationship between therapist and client. Jung believed that termination reflected the client’s awareness of a new philosophy for living—an awakening—and as such carried a more growth-oriented valence. Anchored in a more positivistic appreciation of the role of therapy, humanistic theory suggested that the final phase of treatment focused around movement towards growth and accomplishment. Finally, from a more pragmatic and behaviorally-oriented perspective, termination is the logical and planned conclusion to a predictable, scientifically-grounded, ends-oriented intervention.

And then I came across an interesting article (Maples & Walker, 2014) that reviewed and critiqued the label “termination.” I liked what these authors had to say because they, like I, had considered that termination and its historical associations and connotations were weighted down by historical attempts to find just the right name for the final episode of the therapeutic relationship, and that most of these attempts had resulted in a negativistic perception of termination, mostly around loss. In response, they proposed the concept of “consolidation,” which suggested a normative process centered around the stabilization, strengthening, and reinforcement of therapeutic gains—a preparation for the client’s journey ahead without the therapist.

All of these concepts, particularly the latter, made sense but left me wanting more. I sought something a bit more post-modern: a collaboratively derived and meaningful frame for this particular moment in the therapeutic portion of my client’s journey with me in therapy.


So, in our most recent session, I asked my client, “what would you like to call this phase of our work together?” And he simply said, “I’d like to call it the comfort zone!”
Seemed simple enough, but I sought clarification. What did this actually mean? His response was “I’ve gotten to a place where I am comfortable with myself.” There it was! My client was not deeply immersed in labelling this latter phase of our work, nor was he reflecting on our separation. He had done what he came for. The simplicity of his “comfort” was comforting to me because our work, and I, had helped him find his way there.

What’s in a name? Everything, as long as it is of the client’s making.


(1) Maples, J. L., & Walker, R. L. (2014). Consolidation rather than termination: Rethinking how psychologists label and conceptualize the final phase of psychological treatment. Professional Psychology: Research and Practice, 45(2), 104-110.

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Musings and Reflections

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