What Does Therapy Actually Look Like?

I find myself having this conversation a lot with other therapists and mental health professionals. I always find it so interesting that we all come to the same conclusion: there are way too many preconceived notions about therapy. A simple explanation is that therapy is like a wedding dress. You can look from the outside and even try it on, but it has to be adjusted and tailored to you for the perfect fit. If that didn’t draw a picture, let me explain.

Therapy is not a place to state your case or a place where someone passes judgment on why you’re there. The reality is, therapy isn’t a place per se, but a space. It’s a space created by a provider that cultivates healing and growth. It’s where you get to breathe, process, unpack, and most importantly, just be. Some days, therapy looks like crying for forty-five minutes straight. Other days, it looks like laughing about something that used to hurt. Sometimes, it’s learning to name your feelings, and sometimes, it’s learning to stop apologizing for having them.

Therapy isn’t always pretty or peaceful. It can be uncomfortable because growth requires honesty, and honesty can be messy. But that’s where the real work happens, in those moments where you start to notice patterns, challenge them, and choose yourself anyway. And no, your therapist isn’t sitting there judging you, waiting for you to “fix it.” They’re helping you find language for your pain, structure for your chaos, and confidence in your healing.

Therapy can look like structured goals and worksheets, or it can look like a free-flowing conversation that leads to an “aha” moment you didn’t expect. It might look like silence. It might look like boundaries. It might look like you are finally saying, “I’m tired,” and realizing you don’t have to carry everything alone anymore.

So, what does therapy actually look like?

It looks like you; showing up in your most authentic state of being: present, honest, and becoming. Exactly where you are, showing up, trying to figure it out, one session, one breath, one breakthrough at a time. It looks like you in that tailor made outfit that fits like a glove, perfectly stitched to hold every version of you, because it was designed specifically for you. And when it finally fits, you realize healing was never about becoming someone new, but returning to yourself: whole, seen, and finally at ease.

With warmth and wisdom,

Ricki Briana