Kyle Lee7 said:I completely agree. This aligns perfectly with my own philosophy of what therapy and a therapist should ideally provide, and it’s also backed up by my own personal history—having gone through two separate therapeutic journeys myself.
I think I fall into that category of people who don't mind discovering bits and pieces about their therapist over time. In the beginning, knowing anything about them wasn't a priority for me—it wasn't even on my radar. What mattered most was simply finding someone I felt a connection with right out of the gate. To be honest, even now, I have no idea what their political views, religious beliefs, or other personal stances are, and frankly, I don't care. What really matters is how they show up for the work. They’ve proven to me that they aren't judging me based on my own values or trying to mold me to fit theirs; instead, they focus entirely on me as an individual and prioritize my actual well-being.
That being said, if any of them had started throwing around racist, homophobic, xenophobic, or misogynistic remarks—I’d have just turned on my heel and walked out right then and there. Even though those views wouldn't personally affect me, I simply have no interest in working with anyone who isn't open-minded.
So here's my question: How is a mentally unstable client actually supposed to realistically assess a psychotherapist's values or level of openness?
For many therapists, if not most, intentionally provocative stances and creating friction can serve as a way to more quickly develop specific methods for handling certain clients. I know a colleague—a total authority and top-tier specialist in the US for specific disorders—who would say things like to his patients (even the less attractive 🙂 ones): "You're a total bombshell, what's wrong with your life?" Many experienced this as borderline
workplace harassment and left immediately, even though I know for a fact he never crossed professional boundaries. Once many clients realized his method of working and his undeniable success rate—especially after being disappointed by other therapists—they tried to come back to him, but he simply couldn't take them anymore. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was just too busy.
I often hear from people deciding on therapy: "I clicked with my therapist right away." Or, "I didn't." But what does "clicking" even mean? You can "click" with the first
new age guru you meet, a snake oil salesman, or some three-month graduate of a quasi-therapeutic course. But will they actually help us?
Recently, I briefly described how Schema therapy works regarding a certain personality disorder. Everyone was appalled and gave long-winded responses about how they'd never dream of trying "something like that." And yet, while Schema therapy shows success rates as high as 52% for that specific disorder, everyone would rather stick to psychoanalysis, spiritual healing, etc.—methods that have a success rate of
zero percent for this condition—just because it's more comfortable. A terrifyingly large number of patients, when starting therapy, get the impression that their "ideal self" is far too distant from their "actual self," making everything feel futile, leading them to look for an excuse to quit (pre)emptively.
So, is psychotherapy merely serving as an excuse for many to claim their condition is unchangeable, just so they can preserve the
status quo and a sense of relative comfort instead of truly wanting to change? Or am I mistaken?