Risk
And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom.
By Elizabeth Apell (commonly misquoted to Anais Nin)
Of all the ideas in Cognitive Analytic Therapy, reciprocal roles (RRs), sometimes referred to as templates, are a central one that has shaped my thinking most about relationships, both personally and in therapy.
Reciprocal roles are the “analytic” bit of Cognitive Analytic Therapy, linking a person’s past relationship experiences with their present patterns of relating.
In my experience of teaching or explaining reciprocal roles, it’s a concept that rarely clicks immediately and can initially feel both convoluted and oversimplified simultaneously.
The symbol of one we map on paper seems simple enough: a box containing a double-ended arrow. The top arrow points to a doing word, describing an experience of someone treating you in a particular way. The bottom arrow points to words describing how that leaves you feeling, or experiencing yourself (see an example in Figure 1).
While this symbol is a way of representing the often nuanced personal and social influences on our patterns of interactions, distress or contentment, it can also describe multidimensional relational experiences: a present moment, transference, past experiences as well as future ones.
I have not found an elegant verbal explanation that makes the concept instantly land, and of course what works for each of us to learn and process ideas is personal.
However, as Appell’s bud and blossom metaphor evokes, sometimes imagery and analogy can help us to begin to feel-out and make sense of something multilayered in ways that description alone cannot.
So, imagine your life as a garden.
From childhood onwards, every repeated relationship experience plants seeds. Reciprocal roles are those seeds, in your memory and identity.
Each similar experience waters the same seed, allowing it gradually to take root, shoot and grow. A repeated experience of receiving affection roots a seedling that leaves us feeling loved and cared for, making connection feel safe for us to seek and receive. A repeated experience of being criticised roots a different seedling, leaving us feeling belittled and ashamed, making us more likely to withdraw or expect further criticism.
Over time, what begins as a small shoot or response eventually becomes an established way of us relating and feeling – a fully developed shrub.
Like any plant, it remains sensitive to what happened/ happens to it, the conditions that grew it and surrounding it which could be harsh, drought-like or nourishing.
It develops ways of surviving: growing thorns, a tough stalk, becoming difficult to reach, or producing attractive, scented blooms that draw others towards it. These are not random or coincidental developments, but ways the plant adapts to and survives its environment.
Depending on how and by whom our seeds were nurtured, our gardens become populated with fauna, both appreciated and troublesome. They can either be crowded with many different plant types, due to a range of experiences. Or we may grow a more limited garden with only one or few species dominating.
This is our personal reciprocal role repertoire: the range of ways or templates by which a person tends to relate, and respond to others and themselves.
As we move through life, the people around us continually influence the climate of our gardens. Sometimes they create the conditions for healthier new plants to take root and flourish.
At other times, our relationships recreate earlier, less nurturing or even harmful conditions, disrupting the stability of our long-established plants, which then demand our renewed attention and care, while new healthy growth is stunted or neglected. In this way, familiar unhelpful or restrictive beliefs, feelings and ways of relating can sprout anew.
As adults, we tend to our own gardens. Yet, depending on who first and subsequently taught us, we may unwittingly care for them in ways that stagnate growth or allow problematic plants to flourish and blossom alongside, or overshadowing those we value.
We often continue using the same gardening tools and methods we inherited, without realising they may not be the right fit for what we wish to grow – reinforcing unhelpful ways of surviving.
We may also inadvertently influence the climate of other gardens around us through the way we tend our own, affecting both how our efforts are received and how others tend their gardens.
In therapy, I sometimes describe these as moments or more drawn-out periods when our reciprocal roles are re-enacted or triggered. We ourselves, and other people can be the source of a re-enactment, but so can life itself.
Situations like illness, loss, change and transition can all alter the climate of our gardens, destabilising our plants, because we can find ourselves in relationship not only with people, but also with circumstances and experiences.
CAT may help us understand why gardening has sometimes been difficult and, in doing so, help us become more attentive, skillful, informed and compassionate gardeners, creating the conditions for both us and our relationships to thrive and blossom.
© 2026 Lorraine Welch. All rights reserved
Related further reading
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