ABSTRACT
Society tells me I’m black-God tells me I’m a human being. Growing up as a black woman, having children and seeing what happened to other black people all showed me that white society has not cared for Black people. In 1995, I was at a time in my life when I felt pretty vulnerable and needing help, but yet also saw that this brought up complex issues about Black people and therapy. I was reluctant to get help from a (white) institution. But finally I contacted my (white) GP, although at first I was not sure what I was asking for. I was aware of the possible harmfulness of therapy for Black people-the medical model gives nothing. Also I would put myself in a vulnerable position with records on me. Desperate at the time, I would have done anything and would have gladly taken medication, but my GP recommended counselling. After I agreed, I agonised over my decision for weeks before my appointment was due. I was always aware that my counsellor would probably be white and middle class-Black people are underrepresented in therapy. I never prayed so much in my life and asked the Creator that I got a counsellor who would not shut me down and who would help me deal with my problem effectively. I was willing to take a chance, as part of me was still aware of myself, my wants and needs.
