As a therapist, I often hear the phrase, “You must have it all figured out,” usually followed by, “I bet nothing gets to you.” It’s almost as if there’s an unspoken belief that therapists are immune to life’s hardships, untouched by emotional distress, and somehow possess a secret formula to avoid the pains of living. 

This idea is comforting in some ways. Who wouldn’t want to believe that the person guiding them through their pain is an impenetrable fortress of emotional well-being? The myth of the immune therapist offers a sense of safety, that your therapist has mastered life’s struggles. But the reality is far more complex, and in many ways, it’s this complexity that makes us more human and, perhaps, better equipped to sit with you in your darkest moments. 

The reality is, we aren’t immune to the very things we help others navigate. We feel grief, heartbreak, joy, and confusion just like everyone else. 

What sets us apart is not an absence of suffering, but our relationship to it.

The Power of Empathy 

Empathy is a cornerstone of therapy–and it can be heavy at times. When I sit with clients and bear witness to their deepest wounds, it is impossible not to feel the weight of their pain. Some days, it feels like your heart expands in order to hold all of that sorrow, trauma, and uncertainty. And while we are trained to manage that weight, it doesn’t mean we’re unaffected by it. 

In those moments, I am reminded that being a therapist doesn’t grant immunity to the human condition. It simply provides a set of tools to navigate it with more awareness and compassion. 

The Ongoing Work of Self-Care 

Contrary to popular belief, therapists don’t have an endless well of emotional resilience. We need self-care, boundaries, and moments to pause and reflect–just as much, if not more, than the clients we serve. 

Some days, self-care looks like engaging in my own therapy. Other days, it’s stepping outside to feel the sunshine after a long session, or finding space to journal, meditate, or just breathe. It’s all too easy to assume that therapists are endlessly available to others, but we cannot pour from an empty cup. 

The Importance of Vulnerability 

I often think of the quote, “The wound is the place where the light enters you,” by Rumi. Many therapists are drawn to this profession not because we have everything together, but because

we, too, are wounded. In fact, our wounds often shape our capacity to connect deeply with others. We know what it feels like to be vulnerable, to suffer, and to heal. 

When I face my own struggles, whether it’s a loss, a personal crisis, or simply a period of burnout, I learn from those experiences. I become a better therapist not because I’m immune to hardship, but because I have faced it, processed it, and grown through it. 

The Balance of Boundaries 

One of the biggest challenges of being a therapist is learning to balance our own emotional world with the work we do with our clients. It’s not always easy. Sometimes a session will echo a personal experience, maybe hitting a little too close to home. Sometimes we leave the office and carry the energy of the day with us long after the session has ended. 

It’s in these moments that I remind myself: I am human first, therapist second. My emotions, struggles, and hardships don’t disqualify me from this work; they connect me to it. But it’s also crucial to keep those parts of myself in check, knowing when to seek support from my own therapist, when to step back and recharge, and when to lean into the discomfort to learn something new about myself. 

Embracing Imperfection 

One of the most liberating truths I’ve learned, both as a person and as a therapist, is that it’s okay not to have all the answers. In fact, the illusion of having everything under control is just that—an illusion. The more I’ve embraced my own imperfections and allowed myself to be vulnerable, the more I’ve been able to connect with others, both in and out of the therapy room. 

Therapists are not immune. We are not perfect, nor are we untouched by life’s challenges. But that’s what makes us human—and that’s what allows us to sit with you, in all of your pain, and say with genuine empathy, “You are not alone.” 

So, the next time you sit across from your therapist and wonder if they ever struggle, remember this: we are in the trenches of life just like you, learning, growing, feeling, and healing. 

And that, in many ways, makes us better at what we do.