I Was Doing Therapy Wrong

When I first started working as a psychologist, I thought good therapy meant understanding and using the model.

Using the right techniques.
Sticking to evidence-based frameworks.
Applying the correct skills at the right time.

I was doing exactly what I had been trained to do.

But over time, I realised something uncomfortable.

Sometimes, I was more focused on the method than the person in front of me.

When Therapy Becomes a Checklist

Like many new therapists, I leaned heavily on structure.

CBT, ACT or DBT approaches.
Communication strategies.
Emotion regulation skills.
Behavioural plans.
Coping techniques.

If someone was anxious, I had strategies and worksheets.
If someone was depressed, I had activity schedules.
If someone struggled in relationships, I had scripts to practice.

It felt competent.

It felt professional.

It felt safe.

What I Didn’t Notice at First

What I didn’t notice was what was happening underneath.

Most of the time, the “problem” behaviour was on the surface, protecting something deeper.

And I was trying to remove it or “fix it” too quickly.
With techniques, strategies, and psychoeducation.

Before I even understood the depth of the problem they were experiencing.

When Models Become a Shield

Here’s the part that took some time to learn.
Through reflection, supervision, professional learning, paying attention to client progress over time, and through my own therapy.

… I hid behind techniques.
Without even realising.

When emotions got messy, I’d redirect to skills.
When I felt unsure, I’d reach for a framework.

Not because clients needed it.
… Because I did.

Models gave me certainty.
Something to fall back on.

They told me what to do.

They protected me from not knowing.

How That Can Hurt

When therapy becomes technique-driven, a subtle message gets sent:

“There is a correct way to be.”
“You should be able to do this.”
“There is a right response.”
”You should be able to regulate yourself better.”

If someone can’t, because of their past, their situation, or their relationships…
They might think:

“I’m failing.”
“I’m too broken.”
“Other people can do this. Why can’t I?”
”I should be doing better.”
”Something must be wrong with me.”

That leads to more shame.

Not healing.

What Changed My Practice

Over time, I learned to slow down.

To listen longer.
To ask different questions.
To sit in uncertainty.
To stay with emotion.
To be curious instead of corrective.

Instead of asking:
“How do we fix this?”

I started asking:
“What happened that made this necessary?”
”What is that protecting?”
”What does that mean to you?”

Curiosity opens doors.

From Technique to Relationship

I haven’t abandoned skills or models.

They matter.
They’re useful.
They have their place.

But they are not the foundation.

The foundation is:

Safety.
Trust.
Respect.
Curiosity.
Understanding.
Genuine presence.

Without those, techniques are just noise.

A Note From a Psychologist in Wollongong

As a psychologist in Wollongong, I often meet people who feel like they’ve “failed” at therapy.
Or didn’t improve from it.

In my experience, they never actually failed.
They were never fully met, human to human.

They were managed, not understood.

What I Strive for Now

My aim is simple.

Insight first.
We focus on safety, trust, and curiosity.

We explore:

Where patterns came from.
What they protected.
What they cost.
What might replace them.

Skills come later... if necessary.

But my focus is on connection before skills.

Once someone feels deeply understood, change often begins naturally.

If This Resonates.

Good therapy should feel human.

You deserve to be listened to, not processed.

If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re welcome to get in touch.