"Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides." ― André Malraux

It was their idea, not mine. Initially, I recoiled from the request, but curious and invested in the treatment of my male clients I asked them, 'Why'?

Why would they prefer to be led through a psychodynamic group process by a female clinician?

The main consensus was that they needed a strong female they trusted to help them understand themselves, to collectively work through their difficulties with women, their sex addiction issues, and to have access to a deeper capacity for vulnerability and relatedness. The potential group members all felt a male therapist could not offer them what they felt they needed to grow and move through their blocks with the opposite sex.

So, with reluctance, I complied.

It was over fifteen years ago but I can vividly recall how much I initially loathed leading this group. The meta-communication was ripe with provocation. From the get-go, it was a pissing contest. I was deluged by testosterone and the aggression was palpable.

In the first few weeks, prior to each group meeting, I was vexed by headaches and bouts of vertigo. During group process I defensively pontificated feminist ideals, masking my anxiety over feeling sexualized, trivialized. All my fears and insecurities with upholding my authority and my competence with men erupted. The sexual energy pervading the dynamics inspired feelings of fragility.

It wasn't going well. Then Antonio, the elder of the group asked me out for coffee during his individual session. He liked my smile. Naturally, I graciously declined and we reviewed client-therapist boundaries and explored his desire for female companionship. The companionship that fell within the realm of what would be appropriate.

Thinking it would be some sort of badge of triumph, he decided to tell the group.

The backlash was mortifying. Group assaulted him with recrimination. "What the hell is wrong with you?" they shouted. The shame, that he crossed a line, a line each of them had crossed in some way or another with some arbitrary woman they encountered, was intense. When I suggested we stop emotionally bludgeoning Antonio and instead examine what was inciting such a vitriolic reaction, a turning point occurred.

We finally began addressing what was really happening for all of us in the room.

I shared my experience. How every session I braced myself for attack. I risked sharing my feelings of intimidation and vulnerability. The men followed suit, bravely questioning the competition underscoring the relatedness with each other and the hostility towards me, that was not evident or not as pronounced in our individual sessions.

This led us towards crystalizing how the rivalry amongst each other was rooted in intimacy fears. I was the love object. The good mommy. Would I take favorites? Would I be safe when there are 'others' to compete with? Would I humiliate them to their peers? Emasculate them? Naturally, this segued into their globalized distrust of women and rejection with their mothers.

We were finally available to do real work.

Over the years, remarkable progress ensued. We had a wonderful mascot for the group, Javier's dog Sonic. His presence seemed to symbolically signify the playfulness we shared, the instinctual presence we dropped into together and the protective space we held for one another.

Incarnations ensued along with new participants. David, a homosexual man from an orthodox religious home disclosed his diagnosis of AIDS. It was impressive and touching how his peers comprised of masculine straight men opened their hearts to him. When David shared about the relentless beatings by his father he prompted the other men to revisit frightening memories of abuse perpetrated by their dads. This roused collective encouragement that David work through his recurring dream in which he repeatedly tried to shoot his father with blanks. Conscious of the symbolic impotence revealed in the dream, they unitedly cheered on the day he showed up to announce he finally had a dream in which he possessed a gun with actual bullets.

Other breakthroughs and crucial themes permeated the group process.

There was tremendous bonding through humor. Cracking up about the ludicrous depictions of women in Sex and the City offered levity and important insights. Satirical, over-the-top vendettas against their mothers also ignited cathartic laughter.

When Matt shared about his efforts to rid himself of a literal over-flowing wheel barrel full of porn, while running into an attractive woman in the elevator, he had us in stitches. Javier's escapades with dating women while working a recovery program inclusive of pacing and limits had us smiling in amusement. Now that he had boundaries the tables were turned. He was the one in the awkward position of slowing down aggressive sexual overtures.

When Alex, a computer engineer was laid off and advised by his mother to make use of his good looks and get a job as an escort, it was a poignant moment. The usual jokes were made, but concomitant to a shared understanding that they were either meal tickets or performers for the women in their lives. Rarely did they feel seen or known.

When cohesion and culture-building took hold, I eagerly anticipated our group sessions. The bonding through humor paired with poignant support, courageous disclosure, and profound camaraderie was inspirational and healing.

I was in the early stages of dating my partner when he picked me up one night after group. He said,

"This group of guys came out of your building while I was waiting for you in the car. I watched them walking together, because their connection was so strong. I've never seen that amongst men. I could tell that they had a special bond."

After a few years, the remaining guys in the group requested I bring in women. They had plateaued with the men's group process and to paraphrase, they wanted to bring in more female energy. They felt equipped to take the dialogue and self-exploration to a new level. Ironically this time around it was the women who had a difficult time showing up in a steadfast, reliable way. It took a while before the right women joined in and we found our stride.

I came to understand that it's only when we are willing to get through initial accusatory projections, can we learn from each other.

Weathering the initial storm of this group process, so as to arrive in a place of mutual understanding, respect and meaningful change taught me invaluable lessons. I learned that we need to strengthen our personal identity and take pride in who we are so as to extend to others unlike ourselves. I came to understand that it's only when we are willing to get through initial accusatory projections, can we learn from each other.

As a result of the commitment I and the men made with finding common ground, we benefitted and grew in profound ways. We became better people.

Group therapy is a microcosm of the relational underpinnings carried out in one's daily life. It's a laboratory in which social dynamics in the world are recapitulated through a dynamic psychological process.

The stages of navigating through conflict and disillusionment to building a cohesive group culture that leads to far-reaching change offer a profound paradigm of what is needed to constructively evolve individually and together.

Knowing this sustains me as I observe the current culture wars and a climate of detonated rage and kill or be killed posturing. I can only hope through continuous constructive dialogue, humility, and meaningful action, that the rage will eventually metamorphose into transformative possibilities.