What to expect in therapy… And why it's okay to feel nervous
Starting therapy can feel… well, pretty terrifying.
Even thinking about it can bring up nerves and endless questions. What will I say? Will it be awkward? What if I cry?
Almost everyone feels some version of this. Therapy isn't like any other space in life. You're sitting with someone you don't know yet, wondering if you're expected to share everything you've kept buried for years in your first session. (You're not.)
So if the idea feels strange or makes you feel vulnerable, it doesn't mean you're not ready. Often it means you're about to step out of your comfort zone, and that's something to be proud of.
Therapy isn't about "fixing" you
One of the biggest fears people carry is that therapy will be clinical, cold or judgemental. A bit like what we see on TV, where you sit opposite someone who's analysing you, looking for faults and telling you how to "be better."
That's not what therapy is about, and it's certainly not the way I work.
You don't need fixing, because you're not broken (so stop telling yourself you are). You've been through things, felt pain and learnt ways of coping, and now you're at a crossroads.
Some of those coping strategies might still help you. Others could be keeping you stuck in patterns that don't serve you anymore. Therapy is the space where we notice those patterns together, with compassion rather than judgement, and decide which ones you want to keep and which you're ready to let go of.
Before we meet
You don't have to jump straight into a full session. Most people start with a short call. It's a chance to hear my voice, ask anything you're wondering about and get a feel for whether we're the right fit. There's no pressure and no commitment.
Sessions can be online or in person in Stowmarket, whichever feels easier for you. If you're hoping to use private health insurance, that's often possible too. I've explained how it works here.
What the first session is actually like
However you feel when you arrive is completely valid.
A first session is about laying foundations. You don't need a script or to have it all worked out. Some people come in knowing exactly what they want to talk about. Others are confused about why the same patterns keep playing out. Some just know that something feels heavy and needs attention.
We'll talk a little about what's bringing you here, what you'd like to get out of therapy and how we might work together. You can ask me anything about the process, or tell me what's worrying you about starting. That conversation is part of the work too.
You're also allowed to say "I'm not ready to talk about that yet." We peel back the layers one at a time, at a pace that feels safe for you.
What happens after
People leave their first few sessions feeling all sorts of ways. Some feel lighter. Some feel a bit wobbly. Some feel unexpectedly exhausted.
That tiredness surprises a lot of people, so it's worth knowing about. When your body has been on high alert for a long time and finally starts to feel safe, it can take its first real chance to rest. It isn't a sign you're going backwards.
Change in therapy is often quieter than people expect, too. It's not a switch that flips in a week. Sometimes you'll tell me something has made no difference, and then describe three situations you handled completely differently. Part of my job is helping you notice those shifts, because they're easy to miss when you're living them.
The kinds of therapy I use
No single approach works for everyone. We're all different, so what helps one person might not quite land for another. That's why I blend approaches depending on what you need.
Sometimes I'll use Cognitive Analytic Therapy (CAT), which helps us notice the repeating loops we get stuck in with ourselves and others. Once we can see those patterns, we can begin to loosen their grip.
Other times, Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) is more helpful, especially if anxiety or a harsh inner voice keeps pulling you into the same spiral. CBT helps us notice the thoughts that feed those feelings, question whether they're really true, and find practical ways to respond differently.
For trauma, I may suggest EMDR. It's a structured way of helping the brain process difficult experiences so the past feels less overwhelming in the present. If you've heard of it but aren't sure what it involves, I've explained it here.
From my years in NHS services, I also bring a background in pain management, so I understand the emotional as well as the physical toll of living with chronic pain or health conditions.
For some people, a therapy room itself feels like too much. Where it helps, sessions can start outdoors with my horses, and some people move into the room later when they're ready.
And because the mind and body don't work in separate boxes, I can also work alongside a trusted medical herbalist for people who feel it would help. That way your body gets support too while we do the emotional work. The method matters less than how it feels for you. The work is always collaborative.
It's okay if you feel stuck, scared or unsure
I've worked with people who've carried trauma for decades, convinced nothing could shift. People who look "together" on the outside but feel like they're falling apart inside. People who arrive in tears, completely overwhelmed.
I know from my own life and personal traumas how heavy it can feel to sit in the middle of pain.
So if you're nervous, hesitant or unsure whether therapy is "for you," that's okay. You don't have to arrive confident. You just have to arrive as you are.
Why it matters to me
Running my practice isn't just a job for me. It's deeply personal.
As a single mum of three, I've built my practice around family life, resilience and the belief that people can change and heal even after painful experiences. My own traumas have shaped how I sit with others. I know what it's like to feel alone in it, and I know how powerful it is to feel accompanied instead.
For me, therapy has always been about three things:
Connection: a space that belongs just to you, without judgement.
Curiosity: gently exploring the patterns and feelings that shape your life.
Growth: not instant transformation, but the slow, human shifts that help you breathe a little easier in your own skin.
That's what I want therapy with me to feel like. A side-kick for life when you need one.
If your stomach flips at the thought of starting therapy, take that as a sign of courage, not weakness. You don't need the perfect words. You just need the first step.
Thinking about taking that first step or still have questions? You can always book a call, no pressure just a gentle conversation to see what feels right for you.

