Permission to Rest: Why Helping Professionals Deserve Therapy Too
While I usually write for a general audience, this post is a little different - it’s written especially for you, my fellow therapists and helping professionals. Although this was originally written with psychologists in mind, it struck me that these reflections apply to all kinds of helping professionals - whether you’re a nurse, social worker, doctor, vet, teacher, counsellor, care worker, or any other incredible care-oriented human. However you support people through life’s challenges, I hope you’ll find something here that resonates. And as you read, I invite you to mentally swap out the word ‘psychologist’ with your own vocation/occupation to fit your personal journey. Ultimately, no matter how you show up for others in your work - thank you! This one is for you.
As psychologists (or, in fact, any type of helping, care-oriented professional), we’re like emotional paramedics - we rush in when people are overwhelmed, bleeding emotionally, or struggling to breathe under the weight of their mental health challenges. We carry our metaphorical first-aid kits filled with therapeutic tools: CBT bandages, ACT slings, and maybe a little sprinkle of mindfulness glitter when things get really rough. We’re trained to stay calm in crises, to hold space for the pain of others, and to offer hope even when things feel hopeless.
But here’s the plot twist: what happens when the paramedic is the one who’s hurt?
Do they patch themselves up on the side of the road with duct tape and determination, insisting, “Nah, I’m fine”? Or do they recognise they need help too - maybe even from another paramedic?
This is the crux of a hidden issue in the mental health world: many psychologists [alternatively, insert your own care-oriented vocation here] hesitate to seek therapy for themselves. Despite being fierce advocates for mental health support, we often treat our own well-being like that stack of paperwork we’ll “definitely get to later.”
But here’s the thing: psychologists (and helpers more broadly) deserve therapy too. Not because we’re failing, not because we’re broken, but because we’re human. And, plot twist number two: being human is actually part of the job description.
The Myth of the “Emotionally Invincible” Helping Professional
Picture this: you’re watching a superhero movie. Let’s say it’s The Avengers. You’ve got Iron Man flying around, Captain America tossing his shield, and Black Widow being an all-around badass. Now, imagine if Tony Stark refused to repair his suit because, well, he’s the guy who builds the suits. Or if Captain America limped into battle with a sprained ankle because he felt embarrassed to see a doctor.
Sounds ridiculous, right?
But that’s exactly what many psychologists do. We wear our “helper” identity like armor, believing we should be impervious to the very struggles we help others face. There’s an unspoken myth floating around: If I’m a good psychologist, I shouldn’t need therapy.
Spoiler alert: that myth is absolute nonsense.
Knowing how to support others doesn’t make you immune to burnout, anxiety, depression, or grief. Knowledge isn’t a force field. Even Yoda, the wisest Jedi, had his moments of doubt. Being an expert in mental health doesn’t mean you’re exempt from being affected by life - it just means you’re equipped with tools. But sometimes, even the best tools don’t work as well when you’re trying to use them on yourself.
It’s like expecting a cardiologist to be immune to heart disease just because they understand how the heart works. Dentists still need regular check ups, physiotherapists can still experience chronic pain, and many optometrists wear glasses. Knowledge can help with prevention and management, but it doesn’t create invincibility. The difference is that knowing what’s happening can guide you toward the right support faster - but it doesn’t eliminate the need for that support in the first place.
The Hidden Stigma: The Call Is Coming from Inside the House
While society has made huge strides in reducing mental health stigma, there’s still a quiet, sneaky version that exists within the psychology profession itself. It’s not loud or obvious—it’s more like that annoying background hum you don’t notice until someone points it out.
1. Fear of Judgment from Peers: “What if I’m the Only One?”
Imagine you’re in the Hunger Games. Everyone’s supposed to be strong, strategic, and unflappable. Now picture Katniss admitting she’s having a panic attack before an event. Would that make her less of a hero? No - it would make her relatable and human.
But in the real world, many psychologists fear that if they admit they’re struggling, their colleagues will silently judge them. “What if they think I can’t handle my job?” or “What if they question my competence?”
This is often a classic case of pluralistic ignorance - where everyone privately struggles but assumes they’re the only one feeling that way. Imagine a room full of psychologists, each thinking, “Everyone else has it together except me,” when in reality, most people are having the exact same thought. It’s like being at a party where everyone feels awkward but pretends they’re not, so nobody realises they’re actually all on the same page.
Here’s the truth: the people who’d judge you for prioritizing your mental health are probably the ones who need therapy the most. And chances are, they’re silently wrestling with the same fears you are.
2. Imposter Syndrome: The Voldemort of Self-Doubt
Imposter syndrome is like that villain who pops up in every season of your life’s TV show, no matter how many times you thought you’d defeated them. It whispers things like, “You help people with anxiety, but you’re anxious? Fraud.” or “You teach coping skills, but you cried in your car last Tuesday? Faker.”
But here’s the plot twist: imposter syndrome doesn’t show up because you’re incompetent. It shows up because you care. It thrives in high-achievers, perfectionists, and people who genuinely want to do good work.
Having mental health struggles doesn’t make you an imposter. It makes you real.
3. The Caregiver Complex: “I’m the One Who Fixes Things”
Many psychologists have a deep-rooted identity as the “strong one,” the “rock,” the person everyone else leans on. It’s like being the designated driver at every emotional party. But even the designated driver deserves to have fun sometimes - and even the strongest people need support.
You don’t lose your “helper” badge if you ask for help. In fact, it makes it shinier.
The Power of Self-Compassion: Be Your Own Mr. Rogers
If you’re not familiar with Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, Fred Rogers was a beloved television host known for his gentle voice, kind heart, and unwavering message that everyone is worthy of love and acceptance just as they are. He wasn’t flashy or dramatic - his superpower was simply showing up with compassion, authenticity, and a cardigan, reminding people that it’s okay to feel their feelings and that they matter.
Self-compassion is like having an inner Mr. Rogers - a voice that’s endlessly kind, calm, and encouraging, even when you’re having a terrible day. It’s not about toxic positivity or pretending everything’s fine. It’s about saying, “Hey, you’re struggling right now, and that’s okay. You’re still worthy. You still matter.”
Or, in the words of Mr. Rogers himself: “I like you just the way you are.”
Dr. Kristin Neff defines self-compassion with three key ingredients:
Self-Kindness:
Talking to yourself like you’d talk to your best friend after a bad day. Not like that inner critic who sounds suspiciously like your high school PE teacher.
Common Humanity:
Realising you’re not alone in your struggles. While it may feel like everyone has it all together, I’m sure even Beyoncé has days where she cries in sweatpants while eating Ben & Jerry’s straight from the tub.
Mindfulness:
Noticing your feelings without getting swept away by them. It’s like standing in the rain and acknowledging you’re wet, without convincing yourself you have to live in the storm forever.
When psychologists embrace self-compassion, it shifts the narrative from “I’m weak for needing help” to “I deserve support because I’m human.”
Why Psychologists & Helping Professionals Benefit from Therapy (Yes, Even You!)
1. Therapy Is Like Cleaning Out the Emotional Junk Drawer
You know that drawer in your kitchen—the one filled with random batteries, old receipts, a mystery key, and probably a rogue packet of soy sauce? Your mind has one of those too. Therapy helps you sort through the clutter, figure out what’s useful, and throw out what’s no longer serving you.
It’s kind of like an episode of Marie Kondo’s show - except instead of asking, “Does this spark joy?” you’re asking, “Is this belief helping me or just taking up space?” Therapy helps you hold up each emotional item, thank it for its service (if you’re into that), and decide whether it still deserves a spot in your mental drawer.
2. You Can’t Pour from an Empty Cup - Not Even a Fancy, Clinical One
Imagine trying to water a garden with an empty watering can. No matter how much you tilt it, nothing’s coming out. Therapy helps refill your cup, so you can keep showing up for your clients without running on emotional fumes.
It’s like in The Sims when your Sim’s energy bar is flashing red, and instead of letting them sleep, you keep making them go to work, socialise, and cook dinner. Eventually, they just stand there, waving their arms, refusing to move. Therapy is like finally sending your Sim to bed—it helps restore your emotional energy so you can function without glitching out.
3. Therapy Is Like Having a Mirror You Can’t Trick
We’re great at rationalising, compartmentalising, and intellectualising our feelings. (Hello, defence mechanisms, my old friends). But a good therapist sees through that. They hold up a mirror that reflects not just what you say, but what you feel underneath.
It’s like the Magic Mirror in Snow White - you can ask it whatever you want, but it’s going to tell you the truth, whether you’re ready to hear it or not. Except, instead of saying “You’re not the fairest of them all,” it’s more like, “Hey, there’s some sadness behind that smile. Let’s talk about it.”
Or, if fairy tales aren’t your thing, it’s like when your pet stares at you with that look that says, “I know you’re not okay, Jessica.” You can pretend all you want, but they just know.
4. Personal Growth Isn’t Just for Clients
Therapy isn’t just about fixing what’s broken. It’s about growth, self-discovery, and becoming the best version of yourself. Think of it like going to the gym - not because you’re “out of shape,” but because you want to be stronger, healthier, and more resilient.
It’s like in Super Mario Odyssey (one of my very favourite video games) - you spend the whole game chasing Bowser, thinking that beating him is the ultimate goal. But once you finally defeat him, you realise that’s just the beginning. Suddenly, there are new kingdoms to explore, hidden Power Moons to collect, tougher challenges to conquer, and layers of the game you didn’t even know existed. In fact, some of the best and most rewarding parts of the game only unlock after you’ve beaten the final boss.
Therapy is kind of the same. It’s not just about “defeating” a problem or overcoming a challenge. The real magic often happens afterward - when you start to explore new parts of yourself, discover hidden strengths, and realise that growth doesn’t stop when the crisis is over (or when we get our general registration!). That’s when the real adventure begins.
Common Concerns (And Why They’re Mostly Nonsense)
“What if I run into a client at my therapist’s office?”
Okay, yes - this can feel awkward. But let’s be real: we’re all adults here. If a client sees you in therapy, what does that actually mean? That you practice what you preach? That you value mental health? Sounds like good role modelling to me.
It’s like seeing Hermione in the library - it actually just makes complete sense.
“What if my therapist isn’t as ‘skilled’ as me?”
Therapy isn’t about a competition of who knows more theory. It’s about connection and having a safe space to process your emotions. It’s like saying you can’t go to a gym class because you’re a personal trainer - or like you can’t enjoy a meal because you’re a chef.
But … the thing is - even Gordon Ramsay eats out.
“I don’t have time.”
If you’ve got time to “doom scroll” for 20 minutes each day while stressing, you’ve got time for therapy. Schedule it like a non-negotiable meeting with your most important client: you.
If Simba had time to sing “Hakuna Matata” while reclaiming his kingdom … you’ve absolutely got time for therapy.
Creating a Culture of Support:
Let’s Stop Pretending We’re Fine All the Time
Reducing the stigma starts with us. Here’s how we can create a culture where therapy is seen as a badge of wisdom, not weakness:
Talk About It:
Share your experiences with trusted colleagues. Normalise therapy as part of professional development - and, even more importantly, as something stigma-free that you deserve.
Challenge the Myths:
When you hear someone say, “I should be able to handle this on my own,” gently ask, “Why?”
Lead by Example:
Be the psychologist who proudly prioritises their mental health.
Final Thoughts: You Deserve What You Give
You know how clients often say, “I don’t want to burden anyone with my problems,” and you respond with something compassionate like, “You’re not a burden - you’re a person who deserves support”?
What if you believed that about yourself too?
Psychologists deserve therapy because we’re human. Because we matter. Because we hold space for others, and we deserve spaces where someone holds it for us.
So if you’ve been thinking about therapy, here’s your permission slip: Go. You deserve it. Not because you’re failing, but because you’re worth it.
And if you need a reminder, here’s a little song I wrote with my AI-buddies to capture that very message. It’s called “Permission Slip.” Enjoy! 🎵