Subjectivity in Therapy During War

Twenty years ago despite a general trend among psychiatrists toward psychoanalysis, I chose person-centered therapy because I found psychoanalysis lacking sensitivity, empathy, and relational engagement which I considered essential in those earlier days.

Stephen Mitchell argued that the analyst’s subjectivity is always present in therapy. Our internal dynamics interact with those of our patients, shaping the therapeutic process. Therapists are never invisible in the therapeutic space, no matter how much we may strive toward neutrality and anonymity. Russia's full-scale war against Ukraine has compelled us to be more open with our patients, as we share common traumatic experience. At times, however, the therapist's self-disclosure can introduce unbearable tension into the therapeutic space.

One young woman started therapy a year before the full-scale war to cope with her intense emotions and her profound fear of traveling alone. Professionally successful, she struggled with low self-esteem and had no romantic relationships. Food and art served as her primary sources of sensory gratification. Her father’s cruelty had left her hypervigilant to anger, and the time limitations of a 50-minute session often provoked resentment. The therapy continued, and then came the morning of February 24. Thus, the question arises: How is the therapist's subjectivity present in the therapeutic space during the war when you are a therapist from Ukraine and your patient is a Russian woman from Moscow?

That morning, I informed my patient of Russia’s attack on Ukraine. This openness shifted the therapeutic dynamic, creating a new space of shared vulnerability. She expressed empathy for my pain and fear, perhaps connecting it to her own experience of being attacked by her abusive father. Yet, her nationality introduced unspoken tensions into our therapeutic relationships.

While I expressed no anger toward her personally, the broader political and emotional context complicated our sessions. Her