How Therapists Stay Present, Empathic, and Grounded—Even in the Toughest Sessions
It was noon on a rainy Tuesday, early in my career. I was in session—again—with David, a client I’d been seeing for nearly a year. Outside, the rain pounded the windows. Inside, David hurled criticisms with equal force—about his lack of progress, his helplessness, and my apparent inability to help him.
As usual, he came prepared with a list of grievances, citing past sessions as “evidence” of my incompetence. Still, when given the option to leave therapy, he declined. “You’re the least incompetent therapist I’ve had,” he said. (A real confidence booster.)
David’s words pierced me. Each session left me flooded with self-doubt—heart sinking, stomach in knots, chest tight with dread. I questioned my competence, my judgment, even my capacity to help anyone at all. I carried his words home like a weight, dreading our sessions and feeling paralyzed in my ability to show up for him.
And yet, it was through clients like David—those who bring their most challenging, unfiltered selves—that I’ve learned the necessity of healthy detachment. Not disconnection, but the kind of grounded distance that allows us to remain present, attuned, and constructive. Healthy detachment helps us stay engaged without becoming overwhelmed. It’s what allows us to hold space for a client’s pain without absorbing it as our own—so we can keep doing the work, with heart and clarity.
Here are a few insights that have helped me cultivate healthy detachment:
Recognize the wound beneath the trigger
When we feel triggered by a client, we’re often brushing up against their trauma. David had a long history of loss, abuse, and rejection—it made sense that he’d be guarded and hopeless about therapy. Our job is to meet that pain with empathy, even when it’s delivered through anger or criticism. Healthy detachment means seeing past the defense to the vulnerability underneath.
Redefine what it means to be helpful
Buddhist teachings on non-attachment remind us to release our grip on specific outcomes. With David, I had to let go of my longing for visible progress or gratitude. Real progress often looks like frustration, fear, or disappointment—and sometimes, it’s aimed directly at us. Holding space for that, without collapsing under it, is the work
Focus on what we can control
We can’t work harder than our clients are willing or able to. With David, I saw how deeply he feared the very change he longed for. I had to honor his pace, not mine. Healthy detachment requires us to offer what we can—but no more than what can be received.
Do our own inner work
Gabor Maté reminds us that therapists must confront their own wounded parts. Without that awareness, we risk reenacting old dynamics or slipping into codependency. Healthy detachment comes from seeing those patterns clearly—and choosing a different way to relate to ourselves and our clients.
In Summary
Healthy detachment is the art of staying connected and compassionate without losing yourself. It’s not avoidance, it’s balance. It means caring deeply without getting emotionally entangled, letting go of the need to control outcomes, and responding instead of reacting. We build this capacity by empathizing with our clients’ pain, redefining what it means to be helpful, focusing on what we can control, and continually doing our own inner work.
References:
Buswell Jr., R. E., & Lopez Jr., D. S. (2014). The Princeton dictionary of Buddhism. Princeton University Press.
Maté, G., & Maté, D. (2022). The myth of normal: Trauma, illness, and healing in a toxic culture. Avery.
