Know Who’s Holding Your Pain
When I first reached out for therapy, I didn’t know what to ask. I didn’t know the difference between modalities. I didn’t know about ethics, registration, or the importance of supervision. I didn’t know I had a right to ask.
I was desperate. Hurting. And like so many, I handed over the rawest parts of myself — my grief, my trauma, and my vulnerability — with no idea if the person in front of me was trained or able to hold it.
And when it didn’t help and the silence in the room felt like failure, I assumed it was mine.
Years later, when I reached out again — this time not for myself, but because I was terrified I was failing my son — I was heard. Really heard. My GP referred me to an organisation placing student therapists: supervised, trained, trauma-informed.
I sat with the same therapist every Friday morning for 18 months. No pressure. No strategies. Just time, presence, humanity.
It changed my life.
It probably saved it.
---
Therapy Is a Brave Step — and a Vulnerable One
When we enter therapy, we’re often at our most fragile. Our most open. Our most ready to believe in help. And that’s why it’s so important to know something that doesn’t get said enough:
> You have the right to ask who’s holding your pain.
You have the right to be discerning.
You have the right to know if this person is equipped — not just kind.
---
A Good Therapist Will Welcome Your Questions
A qualified, ethical therapist wants you to ask.
Because the ultimate goal of therapy isn’t about them — it’s about you finding the right person, even if it isn’t them.
A good therapist may say:
“This isn’t my area of expertise.”
“You need someone with more experience in this specific kind of trauma.”
“Let me signpost you to someone who might be a better fit.”
That’s not rejection.
That’s care. That’s ethics. That’s you being seen.
Because your story deserves to be met with depth and safety — not just good intentions.
---
You’re Allowed to Take It Seriously
We often do more research choosing a personal trainer or a hairdresser than we do choosing a therapist. But therapy reaches into the deepest parts of us. It shapes our sense of safety, trust, worth.
So here’s what you’re allowed to ask:
Are you qualified? What’s your training?
Are you registered with a professional body?
Do you have regular supervision?
What’s your experience with trauma / grief / neurodivergence?
What modality do you work from — and how might that affect our work?
Do you work to a code of ethics?
Have you done your own therapy?
And you’re allowed to leave if the answer doesn’t feel right.
Therapy should never make you feel small, ashamed, or unsafe.
It may be painful — yes. But never unsupportive.
---
This Isn’t About Blame — It’s About Power
If your first therapy experience didn’t go well, please know:
You didn’t fail.
It might simply not have been the right therapist, the right model, the right time. You were doing your best with what you knew. And that still matters.
This blog isn’t about placing blame on clients — it’s about returning some power. Giving you permission to choose. Because when therapy is good — ethically sound, emotionally grounded, trauma-aware — it can change your life.
You’re allowed to want that.
And you’re allowed to expect it.
