Let's talk about something that can sometimes feel a little uncomfortable when it comes to counselling: money. How much does therapy cost? Why do some counsellors charge more than others? Does a higher fee mean you're getting a better therapist? And should you be worried if you find someone whose prices are considerably lower? These are all perfectly reasonable questions, and I think they deserve an honest conversation. When you're looking for a counsellor, the cost of sessio

For many people, understanding themselves begins with a question they have carried for years: “Why have I always felt this way?” Over recent years, more and more people have been exploring the NHS Right to Choose pathway to access an ADHD or autism assessment. For many, it represents an opportunity to finally explore something they may have questioned, struggled with or quietly wondered about for much of their lives. And behind every assessment is a person, with their own sto

If you’ve ever experienced something frightening, overwhelming or deeply upsetting, you may have come across the term EMDR. It’s a therapy that is often talked about in relation to trauma and difficult experiences, but you may be wondering what actually happens in an EMDR session, and whether it could be right for you. So, let’s take the jargon out of it. What is EMDR? EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing. It was originally developed to help people

“I just need to know what's going to happen.” “I don't like people making decisions for me.” “If I can keep everything under control, I'll be okay.” “I find it really difficult to trust people.” Perhaps you've found yourself saying some of these things. Maybe you've been told that you are a perfectionist, that you overthink, that you need everything done a certain way, or that you struggle to “let go”. Perhaps you find changes in plans particularly difficult. You like to know

There is a moment in therapy that therapists probably love almost as much as clients do. The lightbulb moment. You know the one. The client is talking, perhaps about something they've talked about many times before, and then suddenly they stop. There is a pause. Their face changes. And they say: “Oh…” And you know. Something has just clicked. Sometimes it is followed by: “Oh my God.” Or: “I've never thought about it like that before.” Or my personal favourite: “Wait... are yo

One of the things I hear surprisingly often in my counselling room is: “I must be your worst client.” Closely followed by: “Are your other clients as difficult as me?” And then, usually with a slightly worried look: “I’m sorry I’m being difficult.” Sometimes there is an added promise: “I’ll try harder.” Or perhaps my personal favourite: “I don’t want to disappoint you.” And every time I hear this, I have a little moment of thinking... Oh goodness, what have we done to ourselv

“I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just not myself at the moment.” This is something I hear quite often in counselling. Sometimes people come to therapy wondering whether they are depressed. Other times, they tell me they are “just feeling a bit sad” and question whether what they're experiencing is really something they should be talking about. Perhaps you've had a difficult few weeks. Maybe something has happened that has left you hurt, disappointed or overwhelmed. Or

There is a particular kind of silence that happens in a counselling room when your client doesn’t arrive. You check the clock. You check your phone. You wonder whether they are stuck in traffic. You check the appointment time again, just in case somehow you have travelled into an alternative time zone. Five minutes pass. Then ten. And eventually, you have to accept it: It’s a DNA. Did Not Attend. Three small words that can sometimes create a surprisingly big emotional respons

There are some losses in counselling that are rarely spoken about. The death of a client can be one of them. Counsellors are trained to sit alongside people through some of the most painful and vulnerable moments of their lives. We listen to stories of loss, trauma, fear, despair and hope. We create a space where another person can feel heard, understood and accepted. Yet when a client dies, particularly in sudden, traumatic or extreme circumstances, the impact on the counsel

It's one of the biggest questions people bring to counselling, although they don't always ask it out loud. Sometimes it arrives disguised as: "This might sound silly, but..." "I've never told anyone this before." "You can't tell anyone, can you?" Or my personal favourite: "You're not going to call the police if I say this, are you?" Let's clear something up straight away: counsellors are not sitting with one hand on the tissue box and the other hovering dramatically over the

“I don’t want to be a bother.” “I don’t want to put this on you.” “Other people have it worse.” “I should be able to deal with this myself.” “I’m probably being too much.” For some people, these thoughts can feel almost automatic. You may know, logically, that the people who care about you probably want to support you. You may even tell someone else that they should never feel guilty for needing help. And yet, when it comes to your own needs, something feels different. Asking

Have you ever noticed that you seem to become slightly different depending on who you're with? Perhaps you're confident and outspoken with close friends, but quiet and reserved in meetings. Maybe you're the organised one at work, the joker in your family, the calm one during a crisis, and the person who falls apart behind closed doors. If that sounds familiar, welcome to being human. Many people come to counselling worried that they're somehow "fake" because they behave diffe

One of the questions I’m asked surprisingly often is: “How long will I need to be in therapy?” And honestly? There isn’t a neat little answer. It would be lovely if therapy came with a little instruction label saying: “Take 12 sessions, twice daily, and you’ll be absolutely fine by Tuesday.” Unfortunately, humans are a little more complicated than that! The truth is, the length of time someone spends in therapy can vary enormously. For some people, a handful of sessions can p

Let’s be honest: life can be a bit much sometimes. Our minds are busy, our bodies are tense, our sleep has gone on strike, and somehow the washing machine has decided to make a noise that sounds like a helicopter taking off. When we’re struggling emotionally, counselling can be a really valuable place to start. Having someone listen without judgement, help us make sense of what’s going on, and gently untangle some of those complicated thoughts can make a real difference. But

There is something quite strange about social media. We can know, logically, that what we see online isn't the whole story. We know photographs can be edited, videos can be carefully planned, homes can be tidied before the camera comes out and that people generally choose to share the moments they want others to see. And yet, even when we know all of this, it can still affect how we feel about our own lives. We can scroll through our phones and see somebody's beautiful home,

“I know I need to look after myself, but I feel guilty when I do.” Perhaps you recognise that feeling. You finally say no to something you don't have the energy for, and instead of feeling relieved, you feel guilty. You take some time for yourself and immediately start thinking about everything else you should be doing. You prioritise your own needs and wonder whether you're being selfish. You spend the day resting, but struggle to actually relax because part of you is thinki

There is something nobody quite prepares you for when you start training to become a counsellor. You expect the reading. You expect the assignments. You expect the occasional existential crisis when you realise you have somehow managed to write 3,000 words about one sentence your tutor said six weeks ago. You expect to learn about theory, ethics, boundaries, transference, attachment and all those other words that suddenly become part of your everyday vocabulary. What you migh

“I’ll do it.” Even when you don't want to. Even when you're exhausted. Even when you already have too much on your plate. Even when a small part of you is screaming, “I really don't want to.” You might say yes because you don't want to disappoint someone. Because you don't want them to be angry. Because you worry they'll think you're selfish. Because saying no feels uncomfortable. Or perhaps because somewhere along the way, you learned that keeping other people happy was safe

There is something particularly strange about being ghosted by a counselling client. You have spent time sitting alongside someone’s thoughts, feelings, worries, relationships, fears and sometimes the parts of their life they haven't told many other people about. You have listened. You have wondered. You have built a relationship. You have perhaps watched them become a little more open, a little more hopeful, or a little more able to make sense of what is happening in their l

Every now and then, a client will pause, look at me nervously and say something like: “I need to tell you something…” Or: “I wasn't completely honest last week.” Often, they are expecting judgement. Sometimes, they are bracing themselves for disappointment. They may worry that I will see them differently, think less of them, or wonder why they didn't simply tell the truth in the first place. What they usually receive instead is curiosity. Because in therapy, the lie itself is