Between the Clouds

Anonymous Stories from the Therapy Room – Photo Therapy

(Some details have been changed to protect client confidentiality.)

While working at a rehab center for individuals struggling with addiction, I facilitated a photo therapy group—a therapeutic process using photography. Before starting, the center’s director emphasized the importance of focusing on emotions: naming them, acknowledging them, and allowing them to be present in the group. In addiction recovery, reconnecting with emotions is essential, as years of substance use often dull or suppress them.

In our first session, we focused on introductions, movement, and play. By the second session, we began taking photographs. I asked the participants to capture an image that symbolized their new journey, the challenges they faced, and the sense of helplessness they might experience along the way.

The Open Sky and the Power Lines

One participant, whom I'll call D., took a photo of a bright blue sky with scattered white clouds, crossed by several diagonal power lines. He said:

"I feel like the road ahead is open, full of possibilities. Everything seems bright and clear."

I was happy to hear his positive outlook and responded:

"That’s amazing. Seeing things with optimism and hope is a huge gift. It gives you strength to move forward, to change, to heal, and to rebuild your life."

Then I asked, "What do the power lines mean in this photo?"

D. hesitated. "They don’t mean anything. I didn’t mean to include them."

I gently repeated, "I understand. But as I mentioned in our first session, every element in a photograph has meaning, whether intentional or not. My challenge for you is to take responsibility for everything that appears in your image. So, what do the power lines represent for you?"

After a pause, D. recalled: "Oh, right. I was standing on the rehab center’s entrance steps, and I wanted to take the photo from the sidewalk outside to get a clearer shot of the sky without the power lines. But I didn’t want people to see me taking pictures. I know a lot of people in this area, and I didn’t want them to see me like that. So, I took the photo from the steps instead."

I smiled and asked, "So what emotions do these power lines represent for you?"

D. thought for a moment. "A few things… laziness, maybe a little shyness… I’m not sure."

Me: "That’s interesting. Can I ask—what were you shy about?"

D.: "I wasn’t really shy… just a little."

Me: "I see. But you hesitated to go outside. Can you say why?"

D.: "I didn’t want people to see me taking pictures… like some kind of nerd, doing what I was supposed to do in therapy."

Me: "And what does it mean about you if you engage in therapy?"

D.: "It makes me feel like I’m not really myself. Like I’m wearing this ‘good boy’ mask."

Me: "And how does it feel to be the ‘good boy’?"

D.: "Honestly? It doesn’t feel good."

Me: "Not good in what way? What emotion?"

D.: "I don’t know… maybe the same thing—shyness."

Me: "Would you say it’s more like… shame?"

D.: "Yeah, you could call it that."

I turned to the group: "Does anyone else relate to that feeling?"

Everyone nodded in agreement.

At that point, I wrapped up our discussion with D. and moved on to the next participant’s photo. It was only our first session, and I knew we would have plenty of time to explore these emotions more deeply—uncovering stories of addiction, recovery, and independence. We ended the conversation by acknowledging that the bright, open sky isn’t perfect. It holds many emotions—not just hope and optimism, but also shame, fear, and uncertainty. All emotions are valid and deserve to be recognized.

A Lesson in Seeing Beyond the Obvious

By our sixth session, a new participant joined the group. When I introduced the concept of photo therapy, I repeated what I had said in our very first meeting:

"In your photos, you may find elements that you didn’t intend to include. But we will treat everything in the image as meaningful. Over time, we’ll discover that every detail tells a story."

At that moment, I noticed the entire group nodding in agreement, some with small smiles. That’s when I realized—they had already internalized this way of seeing.

Therapy, Connection, and Photography—Even Online

Over the past decade, I have worked one-on-one and in groups via Zoom, as well as in-person men’s circles. What I’ve learned is that human connection transcends distance, borders, and time zones. The sense of togetherness, the sharing of emotions, personal stories, care, and support—all of these can be deeply felt, even online.

Photography adds another dimension to communication—one that is symbolic, associative, and intuitive. It allows our inner world to surface, so we can truly see ourselves. And once we see, we can begin to let go of what no longer serves us.

Are you in crisis? Experiencing loss? Do you know someone who is struggling emotionally? Reach out to me or refer them to me