My partner’s therapist was supposed to help him heal. Instead, she became the architect of our unraveling.
For years, my SO struggled with unresolved trauma—abandonment, emotional neglect, and a deep fear of intimacy. Therapy seemed like salvation. He found a woman therapist he adored, someone he described as “life-changing.” He quoted her constantly, shaped his worldview around her advice, and treated her words like gospel. At first, I was relieved. He was opening up, becoming more self-aware. But slowly, her influence began to feel invasive.
She encouraged him to “protect his peace,” which translated into shutting me out during conflict. She told him “his feelings were always valid,” even when he weaponized them to avoid accountability. She framed our disagreements as signs of emotional abuse—mine, not his. I watched him become more rigid, more self-righteous, more convinced that I was the problem. The therapist never met me, never asked for context, yet she diagnosed our relationship from his one-sided retellings.
It escalated when he began threatening to leave me after every minor argument. He’d say, “My therapist says I don’t have to tolerate this.” I was walking on eggshells, terrified of triggering another ultimatum. I tried to talk to him, to suggest couples therapy, but he refused. “She says I need to focus on myself,” he’d reply.
Then came the breaking point. He accused me of being emotionally manipulative—for crying during a fight. He said his therapist warned him about “people who use tears to control.” I was stunned. Vulnerability had become a weapon in her framework. I realized this wasn’t just bad advice—it was dangerous.
I did something I never imagined: I reported her. I contacted the licensing board and submitted a formal complaint, detailing how her guidance was fostering emotional isolation, reinforcing black-and-white thinking, and enabling psychological harm. I included transcripts, timelines, and examples. I didn’t expect her to lose her license. I just wanted someone to look closer.
My partner was furious. He called me controlling, vindictive, unethical. He said I violated his trust. Maybe I did. But I also protected myself. I couldn’t stand by while someone with clinical authority dismantled our relationship from the shadows.
He’s still seeing her. I’m no longer in the picture.
I don’t regret reporting her. Therapy should heal, not divide. And when a therapist becomes a deity in someone’s life, it’s no longer treatment—it’s indoctrination.
