What Therapy Is and Is Not

Therapy is often misunderstood.  Sometimes it’s reduced to advice-giving, quick fixes, or a place to vent.  Therapy in practice tends to be far more human, and far less scripted.

Therapy is not entirely about diagnosis or developing a plan. More often it's a space where you are not judged, not rushed, and not required to be anything other than yourself. The therapist isn’t there to fix you, but a presence where truth has an opportunity to emerge. As Carl Rogers wrote, “When someone really hears you without passing judgment on you, without trying to take responsibility for you, without trying to mold you, it feels damn good.”  And the Rogers I grew up with, Mister Rogers, reminds us, “Anything that's human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable.” Therapy invites us to name what’s true, and in doing so, begin to hold it with compassion and care.

From an existential view, therapy is also a place to wrestle with the big questions: Who am I? Why do I feel disconnected? What am I avoiding? How do I live authentically in a world that asks me to hide?  When discussing these themes, we lean into discomfort, we learn to live with it—with uncertainty, freedom, loss, and choice. Therapy invites you to face the tensions that shape a meaningful life, rather than avoid them.

And when working with couples, therapy becomes a place to explore the space between two people. Through an attachment lens, we recognize that most conflict is not about the surface-level issue, but about deeper, often unspoken questions: Are you there for me? Do I matter to you? Will you reach back when I reach out for you?

Couples therapy isn’t about assigning blame or deciding who’s right. It’s about creating emotional safety, helping each partner understand their own attachment needs and the ways they protect themselves when those needs feel threatened. When couples begin to understand these patterns, they can move from disconnection to repair.

So what is therapy?

It is not about being fixed.
It is not about being told what to do.
It is not a place where someone else has your answers.

It is a space for you to hear your own voice more clearly.
It is a place to be seen—fully, without conditions.
It is a courageous act of choosing to show up for your life, moment by moment.

A Necessary Commitment

Therapeutic commitment, as I see it, is twofold.
It involves a mutual investment: mine as your therapist, and yours as the person seeking growth. Your role in therapy is to explore what brought you here—whatever thoughts, questions, or problems that compelled you to begin. These things don’t need to make perfect sense right away. They don’t need to come out clearly or feel connected either. You just need to be willing to consider them. My commitment is to support you fully in doing that.

In my experience, I find three things tend to happen as we consider all the stuff that makes up your life.  First, we will encounter details about you and your life that were previously unknown. Second, as we discuss your feelings about these details, your feelings will likely change. And third, we will discover new solutions to these details.  

I often think of therapy as a confluence between science and art—a kind of waterway where psychological theory meets the canvas of being a person. We may start out believing we know ourselves, only to encounter certain moments where we feel like strangers to our own mind. That’s not a failure—it’s normal. Life is full of possibilities, and in these kinds of spaces, you have the power to decide which ones to amplify.