The Diet Coke In The Room
Sometimes therapy gives us these profound, beautifully complex metaphors.
And sometimes it gives us Diet Coke.
Recently, I sat with a client who shared, with complete sincerity and impressive conviction, that they have a deep disdain for Diet Coke. Not just the beverage itself, but the type of person they associate with Diet Coke. Apparently, throughout their life, many of the unhealthy, toxic, emotionally hazardous people they have known have been Diet Coke drinkers.
Naturally, as a therapist, I responded with curiosity, compassion, and attunement.
Internally, however, my brain immediately began flipping through a mental slideshow titled: Every Time I Have Ever Had a Diet Coke in Session.
Was I drinking one last week?Did this client see it?Was it on camera?Was I casually sipping a carbonated red flag?
It made me laugh, but it also made me think.
We talk a lot in our field about neutrality. About being a blank slate. About creating space for the client’s experience without centering ourselves. And yes, there is value in that.
But the truth is, we are never completely neutral in the therapy room.
Our clients are taking us in long before we say anything clinically brilliant. They notice how we sit, how we speak, whether we interrupt, how we smell, how we chew our gum, what mug we drink from, what our office feels like, what our face does when they say something vulnerable, and apparently, whether or not we are affiliated with Diet Coke.
The smallest details can carry enormous meaning.
A soda can become a symbol.A tone of voice can become a trigger.A facial expression can become evidence.A therapist’s humanness can become either a rupture or a repair.
This is not an invitation to become hyper-controlled, sterile, or terrified of bringing ourselves into the room. Quite the opposite. It is a reminder that we do bring ourselves in, whether we mean to or not. Our humanity is present. Our preferences, quirks, energy, and nervous systems are part of the therapeutic field.
And that has to be okay.
Because maybe the work is not to erase ourselves, but to be aware enough, grounded enough, and humble enough to let even the smallest moments become clinically useful.
So now, I find myself hoping to become something very specific in this client’s healing journey:
The first emotionally safe Diet Coke-adjacent person they have ever known.
A corrective emotional experience with carbonation.
A tiny little redemption arc in a silver can.
Therapy is strange and sacred like that. Sometimes the deepest work enters through childhood trauma, attachment wounds, and grief.
And sometimes, it enters through Diet Coke.