A new client enters my office for the first time. She sits down and exhales, slowly, and I can see in her body the weight of her worry, her suffering. I watch her look at me, trying to make a rapid judgment as to whether I am trustable and safe, whether I can help or if I will judge or hurt or condemn. I hope she can see me as trustable. Slowly, she settles in and begins to tell me why she has come today. With my eyes, my words, and my gestures, I hope I send the message: I see you. I hear you. I am here with you. You are not alone in your pain.

These days, I spend about half of each week in my role as a social worker at one of Boston’s largest teaching hospitals. Specifically, I work with survivors of interpersonal violence – sexual…