When the Therapist Needs Therapy: Tackling the Shame and Stigma
As therapists, we spend our days holding space for others, validating pain, untangling trauma, and guiding people back to themselves. We teach that seeking help is a strength, not a weakness. But when we need help, it can feel like an entirely different story.
For many therapists, the thought of going to therapy stirs up a quiet shame. What if people think I’m not capable? What if my colleagues judge me? Shouldn’t I have this figured out by now? These questions often live beneath the surface, unspoken but deeply felt.
Let’s name what’s hard. Let’s explore the quiet stigma that follows therapists who seek their own care—and why breaking that silence matters more than ever.
Why Do Therapists Feel Shame About Needing Therapy?
There’s a powerful myth woven into the identity of many helping professionals: that we should be self-sufficient. That we should somehow be immune to the same struggles our clients face. That needing help is a mark of inadequacy.
This internalized belief doesn’t appear out of nowhere. It often comes from early training environments where emotional vulnerability was subtly discouraged, or from professional cultures that equate composure with competence. Add in the perfectionism that many therapists carry—especially high-achieving women—and it becomes even harder to admit, even to ourselves, that we’re not okay.
Many therapists worry that seeking therapy signals something is “wrong” with them. That they’re less credible. That clients or colleagues will lose trust. These fears are rarely based on reality, but they are based on deeply ingrained messages about what it means to be the helper, not the one in need.
But being a therapist does not exempt you from being human. In fact, the work often requires a level of emotional labor that is exhausting to carry without support.
The Myth Of The Untouched Therapist
Let’s challenge the false idea that therapists should somehow be above the need for help.
Yes, we are trained. Yes, we’re skilled at regulating ourselves in the service of others. But we are also exposed to secondary trauma, emotional intensity, and the weight of other people’s suffering, often for 20, 30, even 40 hours per week.
We hold space for others’ pain. And sometimes, there’s no room left to process our own.
Many therapists become highly adept at compartmentalizing. It’s a professional survival skill. But when left unchecked, that skill can morph into disconnection—not only from others, but from ourselves.
Therapists also face unique stressors: maintaining boundaries while being emotionally attuned, dealing with ethical dilemmas, navigating client crises, and managing the loneliness that can come from confidentiality constraints. If these stressors accumulate without a place to land, they can lead to burnout, numbness, or compassion fatigue.
Therapy for therapists isn’t a luxury. It’s maintenance. It’s the work beneath the work—the tending that helps us continue doing this job with presence and integrity.
The Real Cost Of Staying Silent
The cost of carrying emotional weight alone can be high.
Many therapists begin to feel disconnected from their clients. Others notice an increase in reactivity, fatigue, or anxiety. Some begin to question their competence—not because they aren’t skilled, but because they’re depleted.
Left untreated, emotional exhaustion can lead to symptoms of depression, chronic stress, or trauma reenactment in the therapy room. For some, the cost is personal: relationships suffer, health declines, or creative energy dries up.
And yet, because we’re so skilled at appearing “together,” these warning signs often go unnoticed until they become too loud to ignore.
When therapists normalize seeking therapy for themselves, it opens the door for prevention, not just crisis response. It sends a powerful message to ourselves and our community: I matter too.
What If I’m Afraid Of Being Seen By A Peer?
This fear is so common—and so understandable.
The idea of being emotionally vulnerable in front of someone who knows the clinical landscape can feel risky. Will they judge me? Will they think I’m a bad therapist? Will they notice all the things I “should” be doing better?
This fear often stems from the internal critic many therapists carry. But here’s the truth: therapists who work with other therapists expect this fear. They understand it. Many have sat in the same chair.
If you’re worried about being “too messy,” “too anxious,” or “too stuck,” remember—good therapy is never about performance. It’s about honesty.
You might also consider choosing a therapist who works outside your professional circle or geographic area to reduce the chance of overlap. Many therapists find this creates just enough distance to feel safe while still allowing for meaningful connection.
Can Therapists Go To Therapy? Yes—And They Should.
Let’s answer the Google-searched question out loud: Can therapists go to therapy?
Yes. In fact, many licensing bodies encourage or even require personal therapy during training because of how valuable it is to the development of a clinician.
But personal therapy isn’t just for trainees or people in crisis. It can support therapists through life transitions, parenting challenges, vicarious trauma, relationship issues, existential questioning, and burnout. It can also be a place to revisit old wounds that might be subtly activated by client work.
When therapists invest in their own therapy, it’s not a liability. It’s a deep act of professional care. It fosters insight, regulation, humility, and self-trust—qualities that strengthen, not weaken, our ability to serve.
Permission To Receive
This may be the hardest part: allowing yourself to receive.
Therapists are so used to being the ones who hold others. It can feel unfamiliar, even disorienting, to sit in a space where the holding is for you.
You may find yourself apologizing for your emotions, minimizing your struggles, or trying to explain your therapeutic framework mid-session. These are natural defenses. They often speak to a lifetime of being the responsible one, the capable one, the emotional container.
But your worth is not measured by how well you hold others. You are allowed to fall apart. To not have the answers. To just be.
And when you do, you may be surprised by the quiet relief that follows.
Normalizing The Conversation
Talking openly about going to therapy as a therapist doesn’t make you less professional—it makes you more human. And your humanity is one of your most powerful tools.
When we name our own struggles, we create space for others to do the same. Whether you share your story publicly or privately, your choice to seek therapy becomes part of a larger cultural shift—one that moves us toward wholeness, not performance.
If you’re a therapist reading this and quietly wondering if it’s “okay” to reach out for help, consider this your invitation. You do not need to wait until things get worse. Your healing is not a threat to your professionalism. It’s a form of integrity.
Therapy As An Ethical And Professional Commitment
Seeking therapy as a therapist is not just personally valuable—it’s ethically sound and professionally responsible.
Most regulatory bodies in the psychology and mental health fields hold therapists to standards that include competence, self-awareness, and the ability to manage personal factors that may interfere with effective care. When we recognize that our emotional, mental, or physical well-being might be impacting our work, we have an ethical obligation to act—whether that means adjusting our caseload, seeking consultation, or entering therapy.
Far from being a liability, going to therapy as a therapist is an act of professional integrity.
It shows a commitment to insight, regulation, and ethical alignment. It tells your clients, if not directly, then through the quality of your presence, that healing is ongoing, that growth never stops, and that even the most skilled clinicians benefit from attuned support.
Therapy also plays a key role in professional development. It deepens our empathy, clarifies our boundaries, and helps us notice where personal material may be coloring our responses. It sharpens the self-awareness that makes therapy more than a technique-based profession, and transforms it into relational art.
When we seek therapy for ourselves, we’re not stepping outside of our professional role—we’re honoring it. We are actively tending to the very foundation of our therapeutic work: our inner clarity, steadiness, and humanity.
Conclusion
The shame that surrounds therapists seeking therapy is not yours to carry. It comes from outdated myths, systemic pressure, and internalized perfectionism. You can set it down.
Therapists need therapy too—not because we’re broken, but because we’re human.
You don’t have to do this alone. And you don’t have to pretend you’re fine when you’re not.
You’re allowed to be the one who receives care. You’re allowed to rest. And you’re allowed to heal.
Start Therapy for Therapists in Alberta, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and Nunavut
If you’re a therapist carrying the quiet weight of your own pain, you’re not alone—and you don’t have to keep holding it in silence. I offer a confidential, non-judgmental space for therapists who are ready to tend to their own healing, not just their clients’.
Whether you’re navigating burnout, perfectionism, past trauma, or the pressure to always “have it together,” therapy can help you come home to yourself again. Take the next step with I Matter by following these simple steps:
Book a session or reach out for a brief consultation to see if we’re a good fit. You deserve care, too.
Learn more about me to learn if we are the right therapeutic fit.
Start overcoming shame and getting the support you deserve!
Other Services Offered in Alberta, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Nunavut
At IMatter, I offer a range of services to support your mental well-being. In addition to in-person and online perfectionism counselling, I provide specialized therapy for women, HSPs, therapists, and more. Reach out today to begin your therapy journey today!