Being a Therapist Changes You, For Better and Worse
If you knew then what you know now, would you still choose to be a therapist? Since my sabbatical back in May of this year, I’ve been reflecting on the impact of being a therapist and how this role changes you.
Back in graduate school I remember sitting around a circle with my classmates, sharing our goals and dreams for our post-graduate careers as therapists. We had no clue what we were stepping into! Wide-eyed and dreamy, I now look back and realize how naive I was about this extremely complex career choice I made.
At the time, I knew I loved the experience of being in therapy as a client, showing up on that haven of a couch every week. I also knew that I was a good listener and loved diving deep into people’s internal worlds. As you may have experienced too, in some ways I was a therapist before I was a therapist. Always the person people came to when they needed a compassionate ear, so choosing to be a therapist felt like a natural fit to my personality and interests.
That dreamy, magical, unicorn feeling about being a therapist hasn’t gone away, I still wholeheartedly believe this work is special and important, it’s just now mixed with other layers. Interspersed between the moments of awe in seeing a client transform and heal, is the…
dread of doing paperwork
exhaustion of the daily emotional rollercoaster you go on from session to session
self-doubt of being enough for your clients
upkeep of running a private practice or navigating the politics of a group/agency setting
There is no denying just how much being a therapist has changed me - mentally, emotionally, socially, spiritually, and perhaps even physically. The process of going to school and being part of a cohort for three years uncovered many blindspots and allowed me to be seen in deeply vulnerable ways. I learned to speak up and cry openly in groups while also being respected when I needed quiet! Talk about a corrective emotional experience in what felt like a family unit - I still feel grateful for that immersive environment because it gave me the tools and insights to establish difficult boundaries, have healthier relationships, and embrace myself more fully.
Fast forward to today as I manage being a private practice therapist. My personal relationships and how I navigate them have been impacted in ways I didn’t anticipate back then. Most of my social battery now gets used during sessions with clients and I have less capacity to hold space for people in my personal life.
The more clients I see, the more people I hold in my professional world, the less room for personal connections. In some ways this is helping me to continue holding appropriate boundaries, especially coming from a family who has a history of enmeshment. On the other hand, I feel sadness when I notice I don’t have the space to connect with the people I really want to have deeper relationships with - my wife, best friend, and close family members.
Another change I’ve noticed is how when I am connecting, I feel more urgency to be heard and less interest or capacity to hold space for others. This is most noticeable after a day of seeing clients or at the end of the week. As a highly sensitive introvert who has always preferred to listen rather than talk and as a therapist who values reciprocity in relationships, this can be an uncomfortable place to be.
Essentially, my life gets put on hold during the client week, I recharge by myself for a day, then I can have the bandwidth to socially engage again in a way that feels right to me. This doesn’t leave much time for personal relationships, unfortunately.
Of course, the deep connections I make with my clients are very dear to me. Creating a safe container for them to be vulnerable and emotional is essential in doing this work, but I’m now realizing the impact of holding that type of space for others on an ongoing basis. A space where my personal self gets put on a shelf.
Even with the best boundaries and self-care practices, how can you not be impacted at some level? Doing this work doesn’t happen in a vacuum and you don’t have a special reserve of energy just for your therapy work, so of course your therapeutic relationships will consume a part of your bucket of social energy.
Overall, I wouldn’t change being a therapist for the world but I feel compelled to ask myself - how much am I willing to give of myself to do this work and for how long? How much are you willing to give of yourself?
