What is it that makes therapy so magical? Or if not magical, at least unique— though I’ll always defend its magic based on the many extraordinary things I’ve seen happen because of it. 

Most of the time we human beings go around with our heads down, slogging away through the agonizing minutia of our daily lives, disconnected from ourselves and from each other as we sort out the details of getting from point A to point B. We know there is lingering sadness, pain, and even anger, rage, and terror trapped inside us- sometimes our bodies or our minds are screaming out with it- but we carry on just the same, stuck inside stale thought loops defined by self-limiting beliefs. 

Stuck. That is the word for it. If I had to describe the one thing that every single person who comes to therapy has in common, that is it. And I’ve been there too, I think we all have. We get to a point in a job, in a marriage, in life, where all our old unresolved garbage is rotting away and it seems like such a herculean task to clear it out so we just leave it be… until we can’t do it for a minute longer and we (hopefully) concede, ok, I’ve got to do something different. 

That is the moment I get the privilege of speaking to people. As a therapy practice owner, one of my jobs is to be on the front line when someone needs help, and I love it. I talk to all kinds of people in all kinds of stuckness, and many of them are coming to me as a last resort. They have “tried everything” to manage their pain— 

often things that have, in fact, magnified it like drinking, drugs, gaming, hyper-sexuality, co-dependent relationships, shopping, having babies, self-harm, social isolation— you name it. And that “last resort” mentality is relevant because it tells me that although people on some level believe that therapy will make a difference, there is also a generous helping of doubt. I know they are scared. Scared nothing will help. 

Here’s what I want them to know: 

Good therapists hold space for your fear, as well as all of your other emotions no matter how gnarly. 

Have you ever talked to someone about a problem you were having and they immediately jumped in to try and solve it? This often happens because the person we are talking to feels a great deal of anxiety as we share our troubles. They believe (unconsciously) that if they offer us a solution their anxiety will soften and they’ll get to feel useful and heroic. Score! Except then it’s not really about us, it’s about them, and we can feel that. 

Much less common, unless we’re in a therapeutic environment, is the person who can completely focus on our experience without discomfort. Some of us have never interacted with another human being this way, and it is powerful. Without the noise of other people’s thoughts, opinions, or needs hurtling towards us, we have room to feel and observe things that are normally lost, and the space to explore these experiences for ourselves. 

But space is not all a therapist holds for us. They also hold on to hope. 

Good therapists know that everyone can discover something inside themselves that allows them to do, and feel, better. Sustaining that sense of possibility, even when we can’t do it for ourselves, and perhaps when everyone else in our lives has also decided that we are a “lost cause”, is a game changer. 

And this hopefulness that they carry is not baseless; it comes from a core belief that people are meant to grow and evolve and that whatever pain they are in can be used as a launch pad for self-actualization. If we therapists didn’t believe that, we couldn’t do our job. 

Closely related to hopefulness is the good therapist’s ability to remain curious. 

When we feel stuck and possibly hopeless, our ability to be curious about why, how we got here, and where we can go next, is compromised. Depression, anxiety, and trauma can trap us in negative, black-and-white thinking that lacks creativity or vision. Our world begins to feel small, repetitive, and lonely. At such times, curiosity is the cure, but it’s very hard to be curious when we’re in this place. A good therapist gently reintroduces the process of critical thinking, which opens the door to the cage we have built around ourselves. 

The client/therapist relationship is unlike any other that we have. A therapist’s sacred duty is to prioritize and understand the needs of their clients so that they may elevate and heal themselves in ways they sometimes can’t even imagine. We take great pride and satisfaction in this work and consider ourselves successful when our clients’ lives change for the better in even the smallest ways. If it were up to me, it would be mandatory for everyone to have access to great therapy! 

That all said, therapists are human beings too. If you have the misfortune to work with one who can’t do the aforementioned; who doesn’t seem able to sit comfortably with your discomfort, who doesn’t seem hopeful or curious, trust your gut and find the door. It can be a frustrating but worthwhile trial-by-error, but once you find your person, then “all good things” as Buddhists wisely say, “are coming”. 

Without the noise of other people’s thoughts, opinions, or needs hurtling towards us, we have room to feel and observe things that are normally lost, and the space to explore these experiences for ourselves.

But space is not all a therapist holds for us. They also hold on to hope.

Good therapists know that everyone can discover something inside themselves that allows them to do, and feel, better. Sustaining that sense of possibility, even when we can’t do it for ourselves, and perhaps when everyone else in our lives has also decided that we are a “lost cause”, is a game changer.

And this hopefulness that they carry is not baseless; it comes from a core belief that people are meant to grow and evolve and that whatever pain they are in can be used as a launch pad for self-actualization. If we therapists didn’t believe that, we couldn’t do our job.

Closely related to hopefulness is the good therapist’s ability to remain curious.

When we feel stuck and possibly hopeless, our ability to be curious about why, how we got here, and where we can go next, is compromised. Depression, anxiety, and trauma can trap us in negative, black-and-white thinking that lacks creativity or vision. Our world begins to feel small, repetitive, and lonely. At such times, curiosity is the cure, but it’s very hard to be curious when we’re in this place. A good therapist gently reintroduces the process of critical thinking, which opens the door to the cage we have built around ourselves.

The client/therapist relationship is unlike any other that we have. A therapist’s sacred duty is to prioritize and understand the needs of their clients so that they may elevate and heal themselves in ways they sometimes can’t even imagine. We take great pride and satisfaction in this work and consider ourselves successful when our clients’ lives change for the better in even the smallest ways. If it were up to me, it would be mandatory for everyone to have access to great therapy!

That all said, therapists are human beings too. If you have the misfortune to work with one who can’t do the aforementioned; who doesn’t seem able to sit comfortably with your discomfort, who doesn’t seem hopeful or curious, trust your gut and find the door. It can be a frustrating but worthwhile trial-by-error, but once you find your person, then “all good things” as Buddhists wisely say, “are coming”.