As a therapist, how do I find out the truth when it is clear that a client is lying?
How do we even know when we are speaking the absolute truth about ourselves?
Usually, when someone lies, they have a reason for it. In psychotherapy, if a client lies, there could be many reasons, but a primary one is often a lack of safety to open up about certain subjects. They might fear judgment, feel ashamed of their mistakes, or simply not trust the therapist yet.
Therapeutic progress depends heavily on how much a client is able to open up.
This, in turn, usually depends on how ready they are to look deeper into a particular issue, as well as how much they trust their therapist.
Sometimes, having their trust betrayed just once or twice is enough to make someone sceptical of the people around them. Perhaps someone entered their life who, despite their suspicion, resolved to win their trust. They might have gradually let their guard down and slowly begun to trust that person, only to be betrayed yet again.
The rope of trust begins to fray from the very first betrayal, and its final strand snaps with the last. Once that final betrayal has happened and the cord of trust is completely broken, gaining access to that person's inner world becomes incredibly difficult.
In psychotherapy, you can recognise someone like this by the way they refuse to open up.
At all. Clients rarely lie intentionally. A person whose bond of trust is broken is often fractured on a personality level. This means their perception of reality is also split. They see things through a distorted lens. The deeper the split in their personality, the more warped their perspective becomes, and the more paranoid they feel deep down.
Sometimes, an interesting phenomenon occurs during the therapeutic process, known astransference. Put simply, this means the client unconsciously begins to perceive the therapist as their mother or father, or sometimes another key figure from their past. They start reacting to the therapist just as they would to that person. This kind of transference is incredibly common, happening frequently in partnerships, friendships, and many other relationships without us ever realising it.
Let’s look at a simple example of a client who lies.
Let’s call him Joonas (a fictional name). Joonas’s father was an authoritarian figure; everyone had to march to his beat. Whenever Joonas misbehaved, he was punished. To avoid this, he learned to lie. His father knew exactly how to extract the truth through cross-examination, coaxing, manipulation, and deceit—skills he had honed as a police officer.
Once, he went so far as to promise to take Joonas to an amusement park if he would only confess to what he had done. Joonas confessed. In response, his father beat him with a belt, and instead of going to the amusement park, little Joonas spent the rest of the day standing in the corner.
Now, whenever anyone starts questioning Joonas, a subtle anxiety rises within him. This anxiety warns him of approaching danger, triggering his survival instinct and a learned, semi-conscious coping mechanism: lying and distorting the truth. In psychology, this is known as resistance.
As a psychotherapist, I don't know Joonas’s story yet; he is a new client.
All I notice is a deep resistance to opening up. I observe how he evades my questions, contradicts himself, shifts restlessly in his chair, and for a fleeting second, I catch a glimpse of playful cunning in his eyes.
At this point, I stop questioning him because transference has taken place—he has stepped into the role of his inner child. If I were to play along with this game, I would simply be acting out the role of the father he distrusts and fears. I have to recognise that the person sitting in front of me likely doesn’t fully trust anyone.
I also have to consider what matters more in our therapeutic relationship—that he tells me the absolute truth about himself, or that he feels safe with me?
It is quite possible he has never felt truly safe with anyone. Therefore, my focus is to nurture our relationship so that trust and safety can begin to grow. When someone feels safe enough, they will open up naturally—but this can only happen at their own pace, and sometimes, that takes time.
Linda Pukk, 30 July 2024
