Confidentiality is the bedrock of therapy. Without it, the process simply doesn’t work.
Legally, our conversations are protected. What is said in my office stays in my office. This is not just a professional courtesy; it is a strict legal requirement. The only exceptions—what we call the “limits of confidentiality”—are if there is an immediate threat of harm to yourself, others, or a child.
Aside from those extreme safety situations, your privacy is absolute.
But here is the practical side: I don’t need the “incriminating” details to do my job.
Because we focus on the structure of your reaction rather than the story, you rarely need to confess specific secrets to get relief. We are working on the engine, not the places you drove the car.
I learned this early in my career when I worked with violent offenders and ex-convicts.
Some people asked why I would help them. My answer was simple: helping them gain control over their impulses is how we make society safer for everyone.
Even with that population, the law required me to keep their privacy. If I could maintain confidentiality in those high-stakes environments, I can certainly maintain yours.
To ensure this, I take an extra step that isn’t required by law but is required by my own standards:
I do not keep session notes with your name on them.
I use a coding system that ensures my notes are anonymous. You don’t need to worry about a “permanent record.” You just need to focus on getting better.