True self-acceptance isn’t achieved in a session, it’s lived in the moments between. This final blog offers embodied and behavioural practices that help clients (and therapists) sustain worthiness in everyday life. Explore TA life positions, values-based living, and micro-practices that transform insight into daily embodiment.

When cognitive work isn’t enough, self-acceptance becomes relational. This article explores how early attachment wounds shape worthiness and how the therapeutic relationship itself becomes a corrective experience. Therapists will learn how attunement, rupture-repair, and earned security nurture sustainable self-acceptance.

Self-acceptance often falters when different parts of the self disagree. This piece explores the Internal Board Meeting  how TA and IFS frameworks help therapists facilitate dialogue between inner critics, protectors, and exiles. Learn to transform inner resistance into relationship and guide clients toward genuine self-leadership.

Even when clients know they’re worthy, their bodies may still say no. This blog explores how nervous system states influence self-acceptance and how therapists can bridge the gap between cognitive understanding and embodied safety. Learn practical ways to help clients (and yourself) move from insight to integration.

Introducing the next series of blogs for therapists. Each article offers practical insights and reflective questions to enrich your work,  and your own relationship with self-acceptance.

Today we examine how the very trait that drives many of us to excellence—perfectionism—can become one of our greatest clinical obstacles.

The Immaculate Session Fantasy

Every perfectionist therapist knows this scene: You've prepared extensively for your session with a client struggling with chronic depression. You've reviewed your notes, planned thoughtful interventions, and visualized the session flowing smoothly toward therapeutic breakthrough. Instead, your client arrives twenty minutes late, clearly a little intoxicated, and announces he's thinking about dropping out of therapy because "it's not working fast enough."

Your carefully planned session crumbles. Your interventions feel clumsy. The hour ends with more chaos than clarity. As your client leaves, your inner critic launches its familiar assault: "A competent therapist would have handled that better. You should have seen the relapse signs. That session was a complete disaster."

What If They Get Worse?

This continues our series exploring the human realities of therapeutic practice. Today we examine one of the most anxiety-provoking aspects of our work: the fear that we might inadvertently cause harm.

The 5 AM Wake-Up Call

It's 5 AM and you're wide awake, replaying yesterday's session with Emma. She'd been making steady progress with her anxiety, but today she seemed more agitated than usual. She mentioned having "dark thoughts" and when you explored this, she clammed up and ended the session early.

Now you're lying in bed, your mind racing: What if I pushed too hard? What if those "dark thoughts" were suicidal ideation and I missed it? What if she doesn't come back next week? What if she hurts herself and it's my fault?

This is the fear that haunts many therapists: What if our interventions, our questions, our presence somehow makes things worse for our clients?

"I Should Know This By Now"

This continues our series exploring the human realities of therapeutic practice. Today we examine the persistent feeling that haunts many experienced therapists: the belief that we should have figured it all out by now.

The 2 AM Google Search

It's 2 AM and you're in bed with your phone, secretly googling "how to work with borderline personality disorder" even though you've been practicing for eight years. Or maybe you're researching autism spectrum symptoms because you're wondering if you missed something with your teenage client.

Your partner stirs and asks what you're doing. "Nothing," you mumble, quickly closing the browser, feeling like a fraud who doesn't deserve the "Expert Therapist" title on your website.

Sound familiar?

When You Don't Like Your Client

This is the third installment in our series examining the complex realities of therapeutic practice. Today we address one of the most challenging aspects of clinical work: navigating poor therapeutic chemistry.

The Reality of Therapeutic Fit

Every therapist faces this uncomfortable truth: sometimes, despite professional competence and genuine effort, the chemistry with a client simply isn't there. Research shows that therapeutic alliance, the quality of the relationship between therapist and client, is one of the strongest predictors of treatment outcomes, making this challenge particularly significant.

Understanding Secondary Trauma

Secondary traumatic stress (STS), also known as vicarious trauma or compassion fatigue, affects 34-85% of mental health professionals during their careers. It develops through empathic engagement with trauma survivors, creating symptoms similar to direct trauma exposure.

Unlike burnout, which typically relates to workload and organizational factors, secondary trauma specifically results from absorbing clients' traumatic material. The very empathy that makes therapists effective also makes them vulnerable to this occupational hazard.

The Inner Critic in the Consulting Room

The Uninvited Guest

There's a voice that follows many of us into the consulting room. It sits quietly during easy sessions but becomes increasingly vocal when the work gets challenging. It has opinions about everything we say, critiques our interventions, and offers a running commentary on our inadequacies.

This voice has a name: the inner critic. And it has a lot to say about how we practice therapy.

The Unspoken Truths of Being a Therapist: When You're Not Sure You're Helping.

The Question That Haunts Us

Every experienced therapist knows this moment intimately. You're sitting with a client you genuinely care about—someone you've been seeing for weeks, perhaps months. You've drawn from your training, applied your best clinical skills, offered thoughtful interventions. Yet something feels stuck. Progress seems elusive, and you find yourself wondering:

"Am I actually helping this person?"