Which is easier: finding the love of your life, or the right therapist?

Depending on how you, your culture, or your family feel about seeing one in the first place, the answer could swing either way. Once we pass the hurdle of deciding we want help, now we have to find it. And let’s be honest; a lot of therapists are capitalists first, healers second.

It’s incredibly easy for a bad therapist to take your money and give you:

  • Projection when you need empathy. During one of my first serious attempts to find a therapist as an adult, I sat down in a middle-aged white woman’s cushy office prepared to deliver a TED talk on my last 22 years’ worth of complex trauma. Five minutes in, she decided my mother was an alcoholic (which she wasn’t.) I left long before my allotted hour of talking to a brick wall was done.
  • Enablement when you need honesty. A wealthy woman I know has severe ADHD and has exhausted most of her friendships with self-serving behavior. When I asked her if she had considered seeing a professional, she surprised me by saying she already had one…for the last decade. What was he doing with her all this time? Nothing much. Listening to her complain unquestioning, collecting a check, and saying “see you next week.”
  • Complete dismissal of your experiences. After dealing with a male stalker at my job for three months, my employer hooked me up with five sessions of therapy…with a man who spent all five sessions telling me I needed to give the guy some slack before declaring me “all better.” Excuse me?!

The types of practitioners who behave this way towards people who are paying them for help are royally shitty, and unfortunately, very common. On top of all this, you need a therapist because you’re in pain. Bad therapists know this, and choose to nod along while barely listening to you. They got your money, either way. So, how do we get you in front of someone who cares?

The therapist hunting checklist

I knew I needed help when I was 12 years old. It took me until 28 to find my person. The good news is, times have changed; you don’t have to wait as long as I did! A little bit of planning will go a long way to finding a therapist who works for you.

Finding a therapist

There are four major factors to consider when seeking out a therapist: your own mindset and location needs, the therapist’s demeanor, and how well they can understand your story and perspective.

Mindset: If you’re not the most patient person you know…can you be?

Just like dating, finding the right provider takes time. You’re going to meet a ton of duds, but if you can put on a brave face and power through, you’ll be a whole lot happier in the end.

I am not a patient person. Part of why it took 16 years for me to find a therapist is because I spent most of my young adulthood broke or working multiple jobs— time-poor, or poor-poor. When things didn’t work out with a potential hire, I’d shrug and think, Good! Couldn’t afford them anyway! then go back to being miserable for a few years before trying again.

Your mental health matters, and it’s worth the time (and money) to find the right person. Don’t toss your hands up like I did!

Location: Do you want to do telehealth, or would you rather see someone in person?

It’s objectively easier to find a remote therapist—there’s no commute, and you can pick talent from anywhere in the world that suits you. On the flip side, if you’re an American dealing with our garbage healthcare system, you will almost certainly have to pay out of pocket for anyone you find online. (How to afford it is a topic for another day.)

A note on BetterHelp: You’ve seen the ads. You know it’s popular. Some people love it, but hear me out. BetterHelp marketing tends to point out the fact that if you don’t like your first interaction with a therapist, you can just fire them and get a new one. It’s a very Tinder-like dynamic. In my experience, there’s a very serious problem with this dynamic:

Personality: You’re looking for a relationship, not a hookup.

I was on BetterHelp (and later, Talkspace) for about six months total. In that time, I worked with seven (!) therapists. All of them would be fine for a week or two before saying the wildest shit that I could not relate to at all. (“You haven’t seen me ‘since the accident?’ What accident?!”)

This is because dating app-style talk therapy is incredibly stressful for practitioners. It’s so easy for them to forget which client they’re talking to, what our issues are, and what state we were in when they last spoke to us. They also don’t get paid very well, and some are overwhelmed with difficult cases fresh out of grad school. Whether I was on a video, phone, or just texting, those seven therapists always felt lightyears away. That’s never a good sign.

You may be able to “speed date” therapists on these apps, but would you really want to see a date again if they’re sitting across the table from you playing on their phone the whole time?

Your story: How do you know if they’ll “get” you?

You don’t. I think this is where a lot of the fear and stigma around finding a therapist comes from.

As a neurodivergent woman of color, one thing I’ve seen in spades is people who will pretend to understand your story, only to weaponize it later. How do you know a therapist isn’t going to invalidate your experiences? Or worse, they could be a covert narcissist or some other kind of toxic grifter!

Trust has to be earned. If you have complex trauma, the amount of letters behind their name may not be the credentials you’re looking for. When you’re reaching out to therapists, ask them in as specific of terms as you’re comfortable with, how much experience they have in working with the story you have to tell. If they answer with anything that sounds like a “I can, but—“ move on.

Who to ask for recommendations?

  • A trusted friend: Of course the best place to start is through a recommendation from someone who loves and cares for you. If you know anyone who’s listened to your story and responded with kindness, empathy, and confidentiality, ask them if they have the bandwidth to help you find the right person. They’ve already shown they know what’s up.
  • Your work wife: Especially if you’ve dealt with work-related trauma, a peer at work who’s been through something similar may have what you’re looking for. I met my current therapist through a colleague-friend who just so happened to have been personally victimized by the same workplace bully I did. (That person is gone now, but my therapist is here to stay!)
  • Servers, groups, and databases: I hate to call entire identities “niche,” but if you’re black, brown, trans, bisexual, autistic, or in any way spiritual (as opposed to religious) and you’re looking for someone similar…it’s easy to feel niche. Thankfully there are a ton of Discord servers, Facebook groups, and databases like Psychology Today where you can ask around. My small but growing list of spaces to find and hire practitioners is available for free here!

Who NOT to ask:

  • The family members who didn’t want you to see a therapist in the first place: As the saying goes, “We go to therapy to deal with the people in our lives who won’t go to therapy.”
  • Your pastor: “LMFT? The only L you need in your life is the Lordt!
  • Your boss, or anyone with significant power over your job: These people could potentially use your mental health issues against you down the road

During the first session

Recognize when you’re being rushed out the door.

A bad therapist stopped listening after the juicy part. If they’re trotting out a “timeline” by which your lifetime of C-PTSD will magically be cured, they’re full of shit. If they’re acting like they’ve got you pegged and decide to put you on an expensive plan from day one, they’re simply looking to fill some slots in their caseload.

The right therapist will listen to you, ask clarifying questions, and not just let you cry, but encourage you not to hold back. After you’ve settled a bit, they’ll be able to respond from a place of empathy and resolution. If nothing else after a first session, you are supposed to feel heard.

If you’re a racialized woman, your time is especially valuable.

You will get mansplained to. A lot. You will be told the micro-aggressions you just described “weren’t that bad.” You will sit in the offices of a LOT of (hopefully well-intentioned) white women who simply do not have a clue what it means to live in your shoes. You’re there to hire a therapist, not give a free diversity training. Do not waste any time coddling people who can’t do their jobs unless their clients look like them.

Don’t be afraid to say “I’m sorry, but this isn’t going to work for me,” and head out right then and there. Otherwise you’ll be sitting in those offices being your therapist’s therapist all day!

After the session

And finally, the question I asked myself after each “first date” with 35 therapists before finally finding The One:

Could you see yourself working on a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle with this person?

Notice that this question is not, “Do you like them?” Just like in a romantic relationship, it’s possible to have chemistry with a person who’s 100% not right for you. Do you feel like they would be difficult to collaborate with long-term? Are they talking to you like they know better than you, or that they have a rigid way of looking at the world? If so, they will probably want to project their idea of who you should be onto you…and let you pay them to do it.

Working on a puzzle together is supposed to be fun. Therapy? Generally not fun. But in a good working relationship isn’t going to make your experience harder than it has to be. You’ll be able to explore different ways to put the puzzle of your life together as a team.

Your first conversation with a therapist should already feel a little bit celebratory, by the way. The fact that you’re here in front of someone who understands your story and feels like they can help you, should be a win for the both of you. If you can walk away from that conversation feeling like you wouldn’t be the only one putting this puzzle together, for a change…congratulations. You just might have a winner.