The question in the title of our chapter ‘why can’t we be lovers?’ was borrowed from a paper by Celenza (2010). We chose it because it encapsulates a common clinical dilemma for therapists if a client’s sexual attraction is expressed through ‘obsessive relational intrusion’ (ORI) of the therapist. Clients who come to therapy are looking for validation of their existence. In the words of Alain De Botton (2006): ‘Perhaps it is true that we do not really exist until there is someone there to see us existing, we cannot properly speak until there is someone who can understand what we are saying in essence, we are not wholly alive until we are loved’. However, for clients presenting with ORI, the feeling is one of demand to be loved. Spitzberg and Cupach (2003), conceptualizing ORI from a relational and interactional perspective, define it ‘as repeated and unwanted pursuit and invasion of one’s sense of physical or symbolic privacy by another person, either stranger or acquaintance, who desires and/or presumes an intimate relationship’ (p. 351). Stalking, from a psychologically relational perspective, has indeed received little attention in the literature, with some exceptions such as Spitzberg and Cupach, who conducted a comprehensive review of the literature on stalking and developed the idea of client obsessive relationality. It is not within the scope of our chapter to delve into conceptualizations of stalking in clinical settings (see Mullen, Pathé, & Purcell, 2000 typology). Our aim is to place stalking of therapists on the map and highlight its manifestation and impact on therapists through clinical examples. By this, we hope to encourage others to investigate the experience of therapists who are increasingly, in an Internet era, becoming the target of stalkers.

All therapists at some point in their career will experience sexual fantasies or sexual attraction towards a client (Giovazolias & Davis, 2001; Pope, Keith-Spiegel, & Tabachnick, 1986) or will be the object of a client’s erotic fascination (Mann, 1994, 1999). Our choice of subject arose out of a series of troubling and unanswered questions developed through clinical practice and discussion, and the notably conspicuous absence of any publications on how therapists feel or handle harassment, where this is characterized by obsessive interest, intrusions and expressions of sexual desire from clients. ‘Somewhere at the nebulous nexus of privacy and possessiveness, courtship and criminality, intrusion and intimacy, lies the phenomenon of stalking’ (Spitzberg & Cupach, 2003, p. 345). If the client who begs for an answer to such a question exhibits behaviours towards the therapist typical of an ‘intimacy stalker’, (see Mullen et al., 2000) who tirelessly pursues the therapist often by showering her with unwanted gifts, incessant demands for sexual involvement, intrusion into her private life through gathering information about her from the Internet, how does the therapist handle it? We know little of the impact on the therapist when she or he becomes the object of a client’s stalking. Whether male or female, all therapists, irrespective of gender or sexual orientation, are vulnerable to stalking by clients due to the nature of the therapy setting. Research is also scarce on other dynamics in therapeutic settings that may make any therapist more vulnerable.

A Dashing Therapist

Sibilla, a 41-year-old wife of a wealthy businessman, was suicidal and unhappy in her marriage when she presented for therapy with Roberto, an Italian, well-respected clinical psychologist who commutes to his clinical practice in Milan 3 days a week while living in the country with his second wife and three children. Working with suicidal patients was one of his specialisms and he had published widely on the subject. The work with Sibilla was open ended and they met once a week. In the fourth session, Sibilla announced that she decided to end therapy, as she felt overwhelmed, but she found working with ‘such a dashing therapist rather difficult’.

Roberto was not new to patients developing erotic fantasies about him, and his attempts to interpret and help Sibilla understand seemed ineffective. Sibilla decided to continue therapy. Eighteen months into the work, she arrived for her session to announce that she had visited Roberto’s home town on her own, as she had never been there before. She said that her husband had no idea, and in any case, he would not care. Roberto explored what felt like an intrusion into his home life, but Sibilla insisted that this was a coincidence and part of her decision to be more adventurous and get to know the countryside. She then asked what the local guesthouse was like, as she planned to visit on a regular basis. As she put it: ‘I have fallen in love with your home town’.

A week later, she announced that she was now staying at Roberto’s local guesthouse and ‘I was offended that you did not acknowledge me at the local market on Saturday. I saw you with your wife and children’. Roberto said that he had not seen her and focused on interpreting what he understood to be a type of erotomania. Sibilla’s fury was evident and Roberto began to feel intruded upon and very angry himself. Sibilla’s erotomania during this time intensified. She persistently brought little gifts for Roberto who reminded her that this was a professional relationship and he could not accept any gifts. This did not deter her from continuing to bring gifts, stating: ‘my mother always gave gifts to family and they gladly received them with gratitude’. Roberto, feeling exasperated replied: ‘Well, I’m not yours or your mother’s, family … I am your therapist for goodness sake!’ Once he calmed himself down, he realized that he had taken the bait and was drawn into a collusive dynamic with Sibilla, who looked pleased that she managed to elicit such a powerful emotional response in Roberto. When a birthday card arrived from Sibilla at Roberto’s home town address with lots of kisses, and in the same week, an avalanche of text messages ending with love and kisses, Roberto called his supervisor in a fit of rage. He felt that despite all the exploration and clinical strategies discussed in supervision, he failed to contain Sibilla’s erotomania. On the contrary, Roberto said to Laura, his supervisor, it was escalating and he felt besieged, fearful and worried about his family. They discussed the option of ending therapy with Sibilla and agreed that she should be referred to a female therapist, one of Roberto’s colleagues at the Therapia Milano clinic.

The following day at her session, Sibilla announced that she was divorcing her husband and was moving to a house a few miles from Roberto’s family home. She intended to set up a small business with money she expected from the divorce settlement, she said. For Roberto, this felt like the end of the road. He seized the opportunity to raise termination of the work. Halfway through saying ‘I’ve thought about our work over the last 2 years and feel that there is nothing more I can do to help you and would recommend …’, Sibilla stormed out. She returned for the next session apologizing profusely and begging Roberto to continue working with her, adding that ‘we are meant to be together, why can’t you see that?’ He explained that, regrettably, he felt that she would benefit from working with a woman colleague and that this was to be their last session. The harassment continued for months until Roberto, in consultation with his supervisor, decided to involve the police. Roberto’s first marriage in his student days and subsequent divorce to a famous Italian actress was all over the Internet and this made him feel helpless in protecting his privacy. He suspected that Sibilla had looked him up on the internet and found all the information she needed to feed her erotomania and stalking behaviour. Despite a police warning, Sibilla continued months after therapy ended, with unsolicited calls, texts and cards to Roberto. A meeting between a team of clinicians and the police determined that Sibilla was best placed in a rehabilitation centre programme for stalkers. This eventually helped her contain her stalking behaviour, but she declared to the rehabilitation programme coordinator that Roberto will always remain her ‘true love’ and if ‘not in this life, then in the next I know we will be together’.

Anyone who has experienced love and erotic desire might sympathize with Sibilla in the above example. Sexual attraction is, after all, accompanied with emotions of desire to seek out embodied union with the other. ‘The love between two partners brings together the personal, the erotic, and possibly even the sexual attraction and energy of two persons and thus changes both partners’ ways of being’ (Jeanrond, 2007, p. 254). This implies that love is transformative and lovers become transformed through this shared experience. Indeed, love, as it manifests in erotic desire, is commonly described as a blissful experience where the loved ones feel the spark of aliveness and become creative and admiring of each other. The oceanic feeling dominates, and the lovers lose themselves in a state of bliss. But what happens when romantic love and sexual attraction is unrequited, or psychotic, as discussed in Roberto and Sibilla’s professional relationship? Clinical relationships lend themselves to intimacy while prohibiting sexual involvement. As therapists, we are expected to talk about sex, sexuality and erotic desire, among other subjects. But when do we draw the line when the talking cure fails and stalking prevails?

It is even more challenging for therapists ‘when the affective valence leans erotic, countertransference once again becomes taboo’ (Celenza, 2010, p. 176). Yet, we learn from our trainings that clients need to feel desirable to the therapist; hence, we must show willingness and receptivity to sexual feelings from our clients, tolerate our own towards the client and encourage the development of mutuality and reciprocity within the professional boundaries. It is a tall order for therapists to allow the development of erotic mutuality, experience the throws of erotic desire for a client, while simultaneously resisting temptation to act on their desire. We all know that it is not purely the client’s seductiveness that creates the erotic in therapy. The therapist’s own subjectivity and needs can play a part. This induces guilt in most of us, given that we associate our erotic desires for a client with the professional taboo.

Clients, in their own unique ways and due to their own psychic search for equilibrium and ultimately integration, stir so many passions in us. In this way, we can understand behind the veil of defences what is going on in their subjective world. However, there is a fine line between talking about and interpreting sexual attraction or erotic desire, and handling situations where such feelings manifest in intrusive, harassing client behaviours. The examples which follow are intended to highlight clinical issues in relation to stalking situations.

Intimacy Stalkers

Related posts:

Acknowledgements I: Relational Perspectives on Sexual Attraction in Therapy The Role of Psychological Proximity and Sexual Feelings in Negotiating Relatedness in the Consulting Room: A Phenomenological Perspective An Acceptance Commitment Therapy Approach to Sexual Attraction The Self-Preservation Society: A Discourse Analysis of Male Heterosexual Therapists and Discourses of Sexual Attraction Index

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