11/21/2025
The moment I realized “holding space” also meant holding myself.
There’s a lesson I return to again and again in my work as a therapist, supervisor, and human:
You can’t hold someone else more gently than you hold yourself.
Years ago, early in my career, I was pouring everything I had into my clients. I thought that was what good therapists did—stretch, open, offer, absorb. I mistook self-abandonment for presence. I thought the calm I offered others didn’t require me to have any of my own.
But my body kept telling a different story.
It wasn’t burnout exactly. It was something quieter: a subtle leaving-of-self. A feeling of being slightly outside of my own skin. A dissociative hum that whispered, “You’re here, but you’re not home.”
That was the beginning of my deepest shift.
I learned that good therapy isn’t about disappearing into someone else’s story.
It’s about staying solidly in your own body while you walk beside theirs.
Now, my practice is shaped by that truth.
By pacing with intention.
By honoring my nervous system as much as my clients’.
By choosing presence over performance.
By remembering that healing isn’t a transaction—it’s a relationship.
Some weeks I still catch myself leaning too far forward, stretching too thin. When I do, I come back to the reminder that saved my career:
“Your nervous system gets to be held, too.”
And honestly? That changed everything.
— Christy