Not in Session (But Still Expected to Hold Space?)

Have you ever caught yourself thinking about a therapist family member like: “He can’t even read the room, how is he a therapist?” “Is that really how he helps other people?” “I can’t imagine my therapist acting that way.”

If so, you’re not the only one. 

These thoughts don’t usually come from nowhere. Sometimes they come from frustration. Sometimes from hurt. And sometimes from a quiet belief we carry without realizing it, that therapists are supposed to be especially self-aware, emotionally steady, and know how to act at all times. After all, that’s what they’re trained to do… right?

That belief can quietly turn into an expectation that therapists stay therapists even when they’re off the clock. When they are being viewed as the “calm” or “regulated” one, it often comes from trust or respect, but it can also carry a hidden cost.

At family gatherings.At social events.During holidays.In moments meant for rest.

Today’s piece reflects the shared experiences of a few therapists I know, who were asked to reflect on one simple theme:What does it feel like to be expected, by your loved ones, to hold space when you’re not in session?

The answers may seem obvious at first, but I invite you to read them as the voices of people you care about who carry this role both on and off the clock.

Expected to Always Be “On”

One of the most common assumptions therapists encounter outside of session is the idea that they are always observing, analyzing, or emotionally “working.”

As one therapist shared:

“..I still receive a lot of comments around ‘analyzing’ conversations or situations in real-time. It sort of implies I'm somehow different than everyone else in that conversation because of my job, and that I'm in ‘work’ mode when it's a holiday/downtime.”

They expanded on how this impacts their sense of identity:

“I never wanted my career to be a giant identifier for me, and yet, I've ended up in a field where it seems to be seen as such, by many.”

When loved ones assume a therapist is “always on,” it becomes easy for moments meant for connection, laughter, or rest to turn into silent pressure to perform or absorb.

Expected to Hold It All

Another therapist highlighted a different version of the same expectation:

“The other assumption I deal with often is that I somehow have a greater capacity for listening or empathizing because of my work. This again aligns with the idea that I'm some sort of superhuman.”

Therapists practice empathy professionally, but that does not give them infinite emotional bandwidth. When others expect them to hold space outside of work, everyday interactions can quietly shift into emotional labor.

“Yes, and it is disappointing that people seek support in a way that is not in line with how we practice. There is an expectation to continue to give even when we are off work. This often happens in settings where I am just trying to be with family or friends and enjoy that experience. It can ruin a social outing for me.”

For many therapists, the challenge isn’t offering care, it’s being expected to, without consent, boundaries, or reciprocity.

Expected to Hold It In

Therapists also notice how differently loved ones respond when they express frustration or anger.

One therapist voiced this clearly:

“People are surprised when I express anger and frustration. I experience people in those moments in a way that implicitly states I am not supposed to experience or express difficult emotions. Consequently, it makes me feel unseen and unheard.”

Another shared a similar experience:

“If I have an argument- like talk a little loudly, people get 10x more offended because I’m a

therapist who is talking loudly and showing anger.”

And one distilled the feeling into a simple, powerful line:

“I can’t be mad? I can’t be human?”

Expected to Get It Right Every Time

“People often feel that therapists are these perfectly composed individuals who never make mistakes and must always hold empathy and completely forget that we make mistakes.”

This belief can slip into conversations casually and sometimes even as a joke e.g when being asked to diagnose someone at a party and the therapist responded honestly:

“I’m seeing a sliver of your personality. You’re a multifaceted human being, how am I supposed to diagnose you?”

Others hear comments like, “You should know how to comfort people,”  The truth is, therapists are not superior, and we are not experts in our loved ones’ lives, especially outside the therapy room. There is a reason therapists don’t blend personal and professional identities. At a dinner table, it is healthier to show up as someone’s sibling, cousin, spouse, or friend, rather than shifting into a therapeutic stance and centering someone else’s emotional experience.

And speaking for myself, I feel that tension often. I can support clients through panic or grief at 10 a.m., and still get impatient with my husband at 7 p.m. I can help someone regulate in session, and still feel overstimulated in a crowded restaurant. Training deepens my awareness, but it doesn’t erase my limits, my blind spots, or my humanness.

At the same time, acknowledging humanity does not mean sidestepping accountability. Therapists still hold responsibility for their impact within therapeutic spaces. Being human does not excuse harm, defensiveness, or power misuse and it should not. Accountability matters. In session, it’s part of the job.

But accountability does not require perfection.

Self-awareness does not make someone endlessly available, emotionally invulnerable, or immune to life. Therapists can and should take responsibility when we miss something, while still being allowed to be messy, imperfect humans everywhere else.

Expected to Never Need Help

Many therapists also hear surprise when they share that they go to therapy.

One therapist shared:

“I've received from a few people that they were surprised therapists have therapists. As if we do not need a space to talk and focus on ourselves? It's almost like people think we're somehow released from dealing with the same struggles as everyone else.”

Another highlighted a painful imbalance:

“People are always quick to hold therapists accountable but not when you need to [hold them accountable].”

The message underlying both: therapists are often expected to regulate, repair, and reflect while not receiving the same grace or support in return.

Expected to Be More Than Human

Across every reflection, one truth emerged again and again.

As one therapist said:

“I don’t want to be seen as different or superior…”

And another added:

“Just because we’re clinically trained doesn’t mean our feelings can’t be hurt…”

Therapists are not therapists all the time. They are humans who practice therapy during specific hours, within boundaries, and with intention. And if you’ve ever felt disappointed or confused by a therapist’s behavior outside of therapy, I want to honor that too. Therapists don’t always get it right, inside or outside the room. We make missteps, we miss cues, we get tired, overstimulated, or caught in our own stories. None of that makes your disappointment invalid. I share these reflections not to excuse therapists, but to widen the frame: healing doesn’t ask one person to be perfect,  it invites both sides to stay human.

Allowed to Be Human Again

Holding space is meaningful work. It is also work.

When therapists rest, feel, laugh loudly, lose patience, cry, and live fully outside of session—they show up more grounded inside the room where it matters.

They are not always in session.

And they should not be expected to be.