Perfection
Not long ago, a female client was quietly crying in my office. She told me she feels like everyone around her has their life together, while she’s falling apart. Then she apologized for crying. And then she apologized again for apologizing. I wanted to tell her that I had cried all the way to work that morning, worried about my older child’s mental health—and feeling like I was failing as a parent, even though I’m a psychologist. Maybe hearing that would have comforted her, but I couldn’t share it. That’s a boundary I can’t cross. Maintaining a professional distance is essential—for both our sakes.
Wrapped in Silence
I immediately sense when my clients lie or withhold something. Yet I don’t call them out—I know some need time to open up.

Patterns
We spot behavioral patterns others miss. Like how those who apologize the most often have the least to apologize for. Or that the strongest, most stable people often hang by a thread inside. Nobody sees it because they’re used to their toughness. But many of them are closest to breaking.
An Example
I can’t tell my client to leave an abusive partner if I know they’re not ready. Pushing too hard only makes them stay—and stop coming to therapy. Or I can’t tell a perpetual martyr to stop being so selfless, because their rescuer role is so important they can’t give it up yet.
The Magic Words
Sometimes I don’t share a diagnosis because some people build their entire identity around it. Being diagnosed with depression at 21 doesn’t mean it defines you at 35. Also, some people blame every flaw, weakness, and struggle on being anxious, bipolar, or borderline.

Doubt
What goes through my mind when someone sits before me? Sometimes I genuinely admire their courage, persistence, or optimism. Other times, I reflect on what I’ve learned about their situation and which therapy might help most. And often, I worry that what I said wasn’t helpful at all.
Breakthrough
A client isn’t a car that a professional can fix like a mechanic. Therapy doesn’t work like in the movies, where a sudden breakthrough solves everything and the client leaves healed. Success comes in small steps. The client heals themselves, and I’m here to support that.
Mount Olympus
Sometimes I find the mystique around “shrink” professionals a bit funny. Some clients see us as perfectly balanced gods on Mount Olympus. As if our training gave us some mental health enlightenment that nothing can shake. The truth is, we’re not gurus or saints, and most of my colleagues see therapists themselves. Many of us face the same struggles as our clients. Our relationships aren’t perfect, and we deal with anxiety and emotional challenges just like anyone else.











