What Actually Happens in Therapy

Because "we'll explore that together" tells you nothing.

The short version

  • The first thing I work out is whether your problem is a skill, a story, or something older. They need different work.

  • I start shallower than you'd expect, on purpose.

  • At session four we stop and review whether this is working.

Most people arrive with one of two pictures in their head. Either a couch and a bearded man asking about your mother, or a stranger nodding sympathetically for fifty minutes while nothing changes.

Neither is what this is. Here is the actual shape of it.

Three different problems, three different kinds of work

Most people arrive assuming they are the third kind. Most turn out to be the second.

The first thing I'm working out, usually inside the first three sessions, is which of these you've brought me. It matters more than anything else, because getting it wrong is the main reason therapy fails while everyone in the room still likes each other.

Why I start shallower than you'd expect

Here is the thing that gets skipped, and it's the reason a lot of people have a bad first experience of therapy.

I deliberately start one layer shallower than I think I need to.

Not because I'm avoiding the deep end. Because work that succeeds early rebuilds your sense that you can affect your own life, and that is what makes the harder work survivable later.

Depth attempted too early tends to produce someone who feels profoundly understood and gets worse. If you have tried therapy before and it felt like an interesting conversation that went nowhere, or like being taken apart with nothing put back, that's usually what happened.

What the first four sessions look like

How we'll know it's working

Vague improvement isn't a standard, so we won't use it.

At the start of most sessions I'll ask you to put the week on a scale of nought to ten. It takes fifteen seconds and it does something a conversation can't, which is show you the shape of the last two months rather than the feeling of the last two days.

Alongside that we agree on what would actually be different in concrete terms. Sleeping through. Getting through a disagreement without one of you leaving the room. Your son answering with more than one word.

What I won't do

I won't tell you what to think about your own life. If I externalise a problem and give it a name, the next question is always whether you're all right with what it's doing, not whether I am.

I won't push you toward a change you haven't chosen. Pushing directly against someone's ambivalence reliably strengthens the side you're pushing on.

And I won't take on work that belongs somewhere else. Severe trauma needing long stabilisation, acute risk, or anything requiring formal assessment and diagnosis goes to a clinical psychologist or psychiatrist, and I'll help you find one. I'd rather say that now than discover it in the room.