“It had long since ceased to be rose-coloured glasses through which she saw him. What remained was a feeling of constant anger and deep-seated wrath. Once, she used to get butterflies in her stomach when he spoke to her. She listened to him spellbound, remembering every tiny detail. Now, she couldn't bear the way he spoke or moved. His very presence drove her to white-hot rage. Pure, deep red hatred flashed before her mind's eye, and aggression was her driving force. It wasn't enough to stay out of his way. She wanted him to disappear. Not just to another continent, but completely. Those were her words in our first session. It wasn't certain how or if she had acted, because her motive was shaped by the colour red. But was it the red of love and passion, or was it hate and contempt? That is the question we will ask ourselves today,” I said, with my gaze turned towards the auditorium. “Colours are not just beautiful to look at on canvases; they also reflect emotions. This phenomenon has followed me throughout my entire career, and now it is part of your training.”

The students looked at me with wide eyes. “You may think I'm crazy, you are welcome to think so, but let me tell you one thing. If you sit opposite a patient with that kind of attitude, then psychotherapy is the wrong profession for you.”

“What happened to her?” echoed down to me from the back row. “That is an excellent question. The colour overcame her. Not in the literal sense, but she let herself be carried away by her feelings. During our last session, she confessed everything to me. She said she had sought him out and taken her revenge. How, she didn't remember exactly; she only described that the colour red was the only thing she could see at that moment. Anger, hate, wrath, love, passion. Everything was triggered in her at that exact moment, causing her to lose control. The colour dominated her completely, and what remained was a feeling of emptiness. The colours faded from her life.”