IT'S A MANZ WORLD

BOXED IN - Note: Most of my Manz World stories are fictionalized accounts of how the painting shown here came to be. However, some of the stories are rooted in truth.

I have a friend, Carl, who started out as a client, initially coming to receive therapy for what he thought would be only a few sessions. However, that changed when he saw that ongoing therapy would help keep him from experiencing the pain that first brought him to my door.

As I have with a number of clients who come to me on a regular basis I have come to know Carl well. In fact, I now know him in ways that even his own wife does not. That’s because we have had a series of very important conversations, ones that have opened up the doors of Carl’s life—and his heart—to me, informing me of things he had never shared with anyone. No one. Except me.

As a therapist I sometimes feel like a priest who is hearing the confessions of a parishioner. Given the comfortable, secure space of my therapy room—the doors are always closed and no one else is in the office—and knowing that whatever is done or said in that space is private and stays within the confines of that room, clients often speak of things that are rather delicate, even embarrassing. And that is what eventually happened with Carl who has, over time, revealed some of his most secret thoughts and intimate activities that, again, he’s never shared with anyone else.

I first saw Carl when he was a teenager, working in his father’s office, one I went to for business purposes on occasion. When first viewing the young man, I saw that Carl was tall, very handsome, had a head full of blond hair and presented himself to the world with a body that was athletic in build. As he would walk through the office I noticed that his movements were fluid and strong, much like those a skilled athlete would make. My thought was that this young man would attract the attention of most anyone, male or female.

It was because he went to college that I no longer saw Carl in his father’s office. In fact, I didn’t see Carl again for many years. That is until one evening, after making an appointment with me, he appeared at my office door. Upon seeing him enter I thought I recognized him but I wasn’t sure. It was only after he handed me the completed information form with his name on it that my suspicion was confirmed. It was Carl, but I said nothing.

Even though he was now older—he was in his late 30s—Carl still looked much like he did when a teen. Still tall. Still handsome. And still had that athletic looking body. And so, after reviewing his intake form and talking with him about his need—he was suffering from back and hip tightness which was bringing him pain—I finally said, “Excuse me, but I think I know you.” I then mentioned seeing him as a teenager at his father’s business to which he replied, “Yes, that was me. And now I own the business.”

Given Carl’s purpose for being at my office, I took a few minutes to explain my bodywork techniques after which I walked him to my therapy room and pointed to the table where he was to lay. As I do with all clients, I instructed him to take as much clothing off as possible, giving permission for a client to keep underwear on—or take it off—always assuring that the person would be appropriately draped. I then left the room, closing the door to give him privacy to undress. After calling out that he was ready, I entered the session room and saw Carl laying face down with the towel I had given him partially, but not totally, draped over his naked buttocks. Upon approaching the table I adjusted the towel so that his buttocks were fully covered.

Over the next many minutes I worked on the muscles of his back, hips and buttocks, even his legs, all of which were extremely tight. As I worked those muscles, trying to be as gentle as possible at first, I asked Carl to give me feedback as I increased in my pressure. Throughout the session his replies allowed me to know that what I was doing was giving him relief. Several times, especially as I worked on his low back and buttock muscles, Carl said, “That feels good.”

It wasn’t until I had him turn over that, still draped, I saw how ‘good’ Carl was feeling. Knowing that I was seeing the draping towel being lifted a bit by an erection, Carl looked up at me and said, “I’m so sorry. I mean, really sorry.” I recognized that he was embarrassed about what was happening so, as I have said to other males when that ‘event’ happened, I assured him that he should not be concerned. With genuine empathy, I said, “No worries. It happens. It’s part of being male.” Within a short time, as I proceeded with the therapy, the erection calmed down.

Even though my words indicated that I was not upset, Carl, after dressing, apologized once again, saying, “I’m really sorry about what happened on the table. It just felt…” He paused from embarrassment but then continued with, “It was just that it felt really good when you were working…you know… on my butt.” Again, I said that it was not an unusual thing for men to get a bit excited when I was working in the pelvic/buttock area.

Fortunately, Carl found my work helpful that evening, so much so that he wanted to come back again. And so he continued to book several more sessions. Eventually he began coming to me on a regular basis, making an appointment for a session every two to three weeks. That was the pattern for several years. Over that time he began to open up to me, telling me how my therapy—the work of my hands on the muscles of his body—had made him realize some feelings that he had hidden for years.

While not every time, I occasionally saw that Carl would have an erection after I had worked on him for awhile. I found that it wasn’t a just a response to my work on his buttocks, but it would sometimes happen when I was massaging in other places, like on his legs or his feet.

It was after several months of visits to my office when, one evening, Carl opened up to me like never before. He was my last client of the day so I had locked the outer door making the office space secure and our time together very private. After having worked on Carl’s back and buttocks for a number of minutes, I had him turn over, making it so that he was face up. I immediately saw that he had an erection and that the draping towel had gotten a bit wet. It was then that he looked up at me and, with one hand, threw the towel off, exposing his penis. Having already made an assumption that his penis was on the larger size of normal, I almost gasped. It was more than adequate, one that most guys would only hope to have.

Instantly, I stopped my work and looked at my client. It was difficult not to look surprised—which I was—and, to my credit, did not voice any anger which is what many therapist would do. In fact, I'm sure many therapists, male or female, would immediately stop any further interaction with Carl and probably rush out of the room yelling, "Put your clothes on and get out of here." But I didn't do that. No, I remained calm and replied with, “Carl, are you okay?” Just after those words were out of my mouth, I heard, “So what do you think of it?” The ‘it’ he was talking about was, obviously, his rather large male member.

Continuing to stay calm, I waited for a moment then said, “Well, I think it looks great. Why do you ask?” Surprisingly, at that point Carl began to cry. Cry! I was now confused. I let a few moments go by during which Carl wiped tears from his eyes. And then he said, “Since I was a teenager, whenever I’ve been naked with other guys, like in the showers at the gym, they look at me funny. Like I’m some kind of weirdo. It’s embarrassing. And now, like when I’m here and get hard, I wonder if you’re thinking I’m weird, too.”

I tried not to smile as I said, “Carl, you are not a weirdo.” I then tried to reassure him that his buddies were probably jealous, wishing they could have such a fine thing between their legs.”

I thought my comment would end what was now happening but it didn’t. Carl then surprised me again by saying, “I guess I can tell you why I thought those guys were staring at me. I thought they thought I was gay.” I was more than astonished by this information. My reply was a shake of my head and a simple, “What?” After all, I knew he was married and the father of three young children so his last statement floored me. However, he went on to tell me of how, even as a young man, he had longed to be “with a guy.”

I repeated his words, making them into a question when I said, “With a guy?” His reply was to tell me he wanted to be intimate with another man. But he was quite adamant in saying that he hadn’t done anything about those urges because he thought he would loose friends and possibly even be kicked off the some of the sports teams he was on if anyone discovered that he wanted to do ‘stuff’ with a guy. This revelation brought forth more tears.

By this time I was standing still, as if frozen. What was I to do now? What was I to say in reply? Even after hearing such shocking information I tried to stay calm and quiet. But Carl didn’t. Through the tears he shared with me that he had fantasied about guys and what he would do with them and what he wanted them to do with him, especially, he said, “…when I’m pleasuring myself.”

This latest outburst brought an end to our session but not an end to our talking. Over the next half-hour, maybe more, Carl told me more about himself: his doubts, his wants, his dreams, mostly of being sexual with another guy. However, once again, he said that it had never happened. It was not only his fear of being discovered but also his strict religious upbringing that had kept him from ever doing anything “gay.”

I’ll not continue writing about how our conversation went on from there, except to say that I soon recognized that he saw me as someone he could trust with his ‘secrets,’ a guy he could be open and honest with. In response to his telling me of his attraction to men and the excitement it brought to him as he thought of involving himself in sexual ways, I let him know that it was not unusual for heterosexual guys to fantasize about other guys doing ‘stuff’ like what he was thinking about. I assured him that, according to psychological studies, that it’s a normal thing, especially among teenage boys, even young men in their 20s, normal to think about exploring sexually with each other. And that sometimes that exploration leads to them thinking they are gay. My unspoken thought at that time was that Carl was not gay. Maybe bisexual, but not gay.

Fortunately, that session, as embarrassing as it was for him at first, did not stop Carl from coming to me for future appointments. That’s because he could see that not only was the work I did on his body helping him physically but that the openness and freedom he felt when in my office was just as helpful. After his disclosures, I did my best to help relieve some of Carl’s stress, both physical and emotional, during our sessions. My purpose was to encourage him to see that his wants and wishes were not to be hidden. Maybe controlled, but not hidden. At least, not from me.

So, what started out as a client-therapist relationship, ended up as one of being friends. All because he could trust me, that he could open his heart up to me knowing it would not be stomped on and crushed closed.

My painting here was inspired by what Carl presented to me that one evening, a man who wanted to be more open than was allowed, wanting to be naked in body, mind and soul. However, because of his fears of being discovered as well as his conservative religious beliefs, he felt he couldn’t be open physically or verbally with anyone. He felt boxed in.