Crying In Sessions

Doesn’t everyone cry in psychotherapy?

Pretty much. Here’s why.

Friends and acquaintances often ask me about what I do, and often their questions reveal more about their assumptions about therapy, for example, “What is it like to watch people cry all day?”

Overall, I see fewer clients crying in session as a private psychotherapist than I did as a counselor and advisor in higher education. I’m not complaining about it, but I also understand that crying in therapy is sometimes the only place you might feel safe crying, and that’s okay too.

The way I view the process in therapeutic relationship is I need to meet people where they are in that moment. You could be trying therapy for the first time and unsure of whether or not it will be helpful. You might be returning to therapy after trying multiple therapists and modalities over the years. You might be picking up where you left off with another therapist because you relocated or changed insurance. Whatever brings you to sessions is going to affect how you feel in those sessions.

Here’s another thing about crying: it’s an expression of intense emotion and feeling in general. Sometimes, we carry tension around without even realizing it. I’m one of those people who is notorious for breaking down in tears during restorative yoga practice, but I’m also not the only one.

Sometimes feeling angry, frustrated or tired can trigger tears, and sometimes, it’s just being sad and finally being in a situation where someone is focused on you and listening. That’s what creates the connection, and it can trigger tears. Talking about difficult things when you know someone else is bearing witness is painful.

I would love it if happiness were our only emotion as human beings and we could just go through life being happy all the time. Unfortunately, in order to feel happiness, we have to be capable of feeling all of the other emotions too. The extension of this to therapy is it’s not realistic to expect to walk out of every session feeling “better.” I make every effort to end sessions on a high note, and to empower you, but with depression, grief, and other difficulties, that isn’t possible at the end of every hour.

Therapy is not a warm bath. It’s work and sometimes it’s painful work. Just like we take it as a given that when we receive treatment from a physical therapist for recovery from a physical injury we expect some pain and soreness, the mental equivalent occurs when we work on our thought patterns and emotions.

This is one of many things that pokes holes in the, “A therapist is like a paid best friend.” No, we’re not. Unlike a friend, I have to share when I have concerns about something you’re doing. I have to push you and challenge you even if it frustrates you sometimes. I do it because I know you might be a little annoyed with me in the moment, but I also know you will grow from it and get closer to achieving your goals.