By Esther Anthony
Nick recently asked if I would like to write the next Thread and gave me a few ideas to think about. One was this idea of how, as therapists, we have to walk in the same work we ask our clients to do every day. Slow down. Get curious. Sit with uncertainty. Set the boundary. Stop rescuing. Say what you actually feel. Let grief be grief. Rest before your body forces you to. And somewhere along the way, I realized: Damn, Esther. You do not get to ask people to do all of that while somehow exempting yourself from it.
When I first started as a therapist, I thought becoming a better therapist would mostly mean knowing more. More theories. More interventions. Better questions. Those things matter. But my biggest growth has come from consistently practicing the same things I ask of other people.
If you know the Enneagram, I am about as Type 7 as they come. Give me movement, possibility, a new idea, a plan, or literally anything other than sitting in the hard feeling. I can find the lesson, make the list, figure out the next step, and convince myself I processed something when really all I did was organize it really beautifully. Turns out, there is a difference between moving forward and moving away.
Sometimes something is just sad. Sometimes someone I love is struggling and I cannot fix it. Sometimes it just sucks, and the work is letting that be true without immediately trying to make it productive, meaningful, or turn it into something else.
Vulnerability is scary for a reason. A lot of our defenses were protections long before they became problems. They helped us survive, cope, stay connected, or feel safe. But protection can become a prison when the things we cannot or will not say start running the show. That was definitely true for me. There have been seasons where my own anxiety got very loud, and my instinct was basically: Okay, how do I fix this? What do I need to do? How do I make this feeling go away?
What I have had to slowly learn instead is that healing is not really about speed. It is about depth. It is about safety. It is about not finding another creative way around the thing, but becoming willing to actually look at it. Sometimes there is simply no to-do list for an emotion. Sometimes the work is choosing to stay with the feeling a little longer. Naming it. Saying the thing out loud. Letting someone else sit with you in it without immediately trying to fix it or make it disappear. That has probably been one of the harder things for me to learn.
We do not always get a choice in parts of our lives. But eventually, we do get some say in what we do with what happened. What we carry forward. What we put down. What meaning we give it. What story we continue telling ourselves about it. That has changed the way I hold space as a therapist too. I get to try to create a place where people can say the things they have maybe never been able to say out loud. Where we can get curious about what the anxiety, avoidance, perfectionism, anger, people-pleasing, or whatever else might be doing there. What is it protecting? What did it help you survive? Does it still need to run the show? And then maybe ask if there is another way.
I have not mastered any of this. Not even close. But I know myself better now, and I can usually catch myself in a defense a little sooner. Being a therapist has definitely not made me immune to being human. If anything, it has made me more aware of just how human I am. I do not see therapy as one person who has everything figured out sitting across from someone who does not. I have training, tools, and a different perspective, but you are the one living your life. To me, therapy is getting curious together.
Walking the walk, for me, does not mean having everything figured out. It means being willing to keep doing the work I ask other people to do too. Get curious and sit with it for just a little longer. And one of the coolest parts is seeing what happens when people start doing something different. It almost never just stays with them. It changes how they show up with their partner, their kids, their friends, at work, and with themselves. Healing has a way of spreading. And I think that is pretty damn beautiful.
Esther Anthony, MSW, SWC, is a therapist at The Uncommon Heart. She works with thoughtful, self-aware people who tend to overthink and analyze everything, helping them move out of their heads and into a more grounded relationship with themselves and their values. Drawing on parts work, mindfulness and values-based therapy, and somatic, trauma-focused approaches, Esther specializes in anxiety, trauma, relationships, and life transitions. Her work is both analytical and heart-centered. She meets each client with a unique mix of compassion and curiosity, helping them connect more deeply with themselves and the things that matter most to them.
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