Listening for a Living, Longing to Be Heard: The Therapist’s Paradox

I often hear people say to me and other therapists, “Tum bas sunne ke hi toh paise lete ho” (You just get paid to listen).

There are moments in therapy when a client shares something, and you relate to it so deeply that every part of you wants to pause and say, "Hey, me too!" But you hold back. You remind yourself that this space is not about you, not about your story, no matter how similar. There are times when a client’s words mirror your own unspoken struggles, your patterns, your wounds, and something shifts inside you. A knot in your stomach, a weight in your chest, an ache in your throat. But you keep listening.

There are days when your own world is heavy. You’ve been carrying too much, professionally, personally. Your eyes are tired, your feet restless, your shoulders tense from the weight of stories untold. You long to collapse onto a couch, let it absorb the exhaustion that no one sees. But then, it’s 7 PM. Time for your last session. So you wipe that lonely tear, take a deep breath, sip some water, and log in with a steady voice, “Hey! How’s it going?”

Illustration by Connie Zheng. (www.washingtonian.com/)

The Cost of Holding Space

In the last five years, I have met countless therapists who share how emotionally draining this work can be. Many organizations demand 8-9 sessions a day from their therapists, treating them like machines rather than humans who need care themselves. The irony is glaring, organizations built to support mental health professionals often do not listen to them. The push for more clients, more revenue, more productivity overshadows the therapist’s need for space, for breath, for pause.

Listening is often described as the most "basic" skill in therapy. Yet, it is one of the hardest to practice. In a culture obsessed with giving advice, proving points, and making oneself heard, true listening is a radical act. And therapists do it daily. Not just hearing, but listening, deeply, fully, beyond words. This practice, over time, leaves us with echoes of what we’ve absorbed: the emotions felt, the sensations stirred, the memories awakened. And yet, we rarely have space to process all that remains unacknowledged within us.

Who Listens to the Listeners?

In rooms full of therapists, I often hear someone ask, “Does this happen to anyone else, that...?” And before the sentence is even complete, heads nod in unison, voices exclaim, “Oh my god, yes!” It is in these rare moments, among fellow therapists, that we feel truly heard. Because they understand. Because we don’t have to explain.

Outside these spaces, it’s harder. When therapists express their exhaustion, people often respond with “Well, that’s your job.” If we share our struggles, we are met with unsolicited advice or stories of how the other person is struggling more. The loneliness of private practice makes this even more acute. We hold so much, yet can’t always share what we carry. The weight of people’s secrets, their pain, their deepest fears, it stays with us. And there is no limitless capacity to hold it all.

Therapists need spaces too. Spaces where we can exhale, be heard, be seen, not as professionals, but as people. Spaces where we can pour out what we absorb, where we can be held instead of always holding. Because in a world where “Agar sab bolenge toh sunega kaun?” (If everyone speaks, who will listen?), therapists take on the role of listening. But we, too, ask, “Humein kaun sunega?” (Who will listen to us?)

Making Space for Ourselves

As much as therapists strive to create safe spaces for their clients, they too need spaces where they can be heard. A therapist’s peer support system is not just a luxury but a necessity in this field, spaces where you can shed the therapist’s demeanor and reconnect with your individual self.

If you’re working in private practice, consider reaching out, whether it’s connecting with fellow professionals, joining a therapist support group, or becoming part of a networking circle where you feel seen and heard. Let’s cultivate spaces where we don’t just listen but are also listened to.

Fellow therapists, it’s time to make space for yourself in a profession where we are always holding space for others. Maintain your boundaries, build a life outside of therapy, and invite more play, creativity, and fun into your routine. Sometimes, even just acknowledging the weight of this work can be a step toward balance.

And for those who have therapists in their lives, check in on them. Ask how they’re doing. Offer a listening ear without advice or expectation. Sometimes, even those who listen for a living need to be heard too.

To mental health organizations: do better. Prioritize your therapists and their well-being, because if those holding space for others are not supported, the very foundation of this work begins to crack. If we don’t care for those who care, we risk defeating the purpose of this profession itself.

---

Hey! I’m Radhika, a counseling psychologist & movement therapy facilitator. Stories, Systems, and Self is a space where I reflect on how our lived experiences, mental health, and the systems we move through shape us and how we show up in the world. These aren’t answers, just perspectives I’ve been sitting with. Thank you for reading :)