Why It Hurts So Much When Therapist Spaces Fail Us
Therapist spaces should feel safe.
That seems obvious, right?
We are people trained to listen deeply, to hold pain with compassion, to offer care without judgment.
We spend our days creating safe space for our clients. So when we step into spaces with other therapists, whether online or in person, there’s often an unspoken expectation that we’ll be held that way too.
And yet, so many of us have walked away from therapist spaces feeling gutted. Silenced. Ashamed. Dismissed.
We’ve shared something vulnerable, whether it’s a resource we believe in, a question we were scared to ask, an idea we worked hard to develop, only to be met with harshness, or worse, complete disregard.
That contradiction hurts more than we expect.
Not just because the words were unkind. But because we expected — even needed — those spaces to be different.
You’re not wrong for being hurt by that.
This Was Supposed to Be a Safe Space
Something like this happened to me just recently, and it wasn’t in some massive, anonymous therapist Facebook group. It was in a small, local one, the kind where most people actually know each other.
I had shared a post promoting a BRAVE event I was so proud of. Something meaningful I’d been preparing for with care. And the comment that came in? It was sharp. Dismissive. Frankly, it felt cruel.
It wasn’t feedback. It felt personal.
I was standing in my kitchen when I read it. Getting ready for the day with my family. And in an instant, my whole system just… shut down. The sense of safety I’d assumed in that group, a space filled with people I might literally bump into at a training or coffee shop, was gone.
And what made it even harder? This wasn’t the only rupture that week.
A few days earlier, I’d shared a response video on TikTok after receiving a similarly painful comment — another moment of trying to show up vulnerably in a therapist space and being met with something harsh instead of human.
We Risk Being Seen Every Time We Show Up
Sharing something in a therapist space, even a resource you believe in, can feel like peeling your chest open.
You’re not just promoting an event. You’re putting your name on something. You’re asking to be seen. And that always carries risk.
When responses are kind, it feels like connection. But when they’re cold or cutting? The shame lands fast.
That old voice starts to whisper:
"You should’ve known better."
"You’re not good enough."
"This is what happens when you put yourself out there. Don’t do it again."
And then your body responds: tight chest, dropped stomach, frozen breath. All the signs of retreat. Of shutdown.
We know this response, we teach our clients about it every day! But that doesn’t make it any easier to feel.
And it’s especially brutal when it happens in spaces where we went seeking support.
Repair Is Possible — And I’ve Felt It
That same day, the day I received that comment in the Facebook group, I also happened to co-lead the BRAVE event I had been promoting.
And it was everything I needed.
My collaborator and I started by naming what we were both feeling: anxiety. Fear that we weren’t good enough. We didn’t pretend it wasn’t there. We said it out loud.
And the group? Met us with care. Not critique. Not silence. Just real presence.
It reminded me of the Brainspotting Intensive I’d attended just weeks earlier, a space that also felt incredibly healing, grounding, and safe.
Not perfect. Not performative. Just human.
So I want to be clear here: not all therapist spaces are unsafe. Some are deeply restorative. Some remind you of what’s possible.
But those moments of safety, especially when they’re rare, make the painful ones stand out even more.
Why This Hurts So Much — And What We Can Do
When therapist spaces fail us, it’s not just frustrating — it’s a rupture of something sacred.
We expect better of each other. And honestly? We should.
Because we do know better.
We hold space for complexity every single day with our clients. We challenge with compassion. We validate without rescuing. We hold nuance. We slow down.
But somewhere along the way, maybe in our own unprocessed stuff, our burnout, our fear of imperfection, we forget to offer that same generosity to our peers.
Sometimes we mistake harshness for honesty. Sometimes we critique before we connect. Sometimes we forget there’s a human behind that post.
And that has to change.
No therapist space will be perfect. But we can choose curiosity over critique. We can choose to respond instead of react. We can choose to lead with humanity.
If You’ve Felt Unsafe in a Therapist Space…
If you’ve had that moment, where a space you hoped would hold you instead made you feel small, exposed, or erased, I hope you know you’re not alone.
That moment hurts in a very specific way. Because we’re supposed to be colleagues. Because you were reaching out for something meaningful.
And when that’s met with dismissal? It stings.
So if it feels okay to reflect:
When was a time you felt unsafe in a therapist space? What did you do with that? What helped or what do you wish you’d had in that moment?
You don’t have to share anything you’re not ready to. But if you do want to add it to the comments here, your story might be the one that helps someone else feel less alone in theirs.
Repair is possible. And I’ve felt it.
I hope, with time, I’ll even feel it in that same local Facebook group again. That I’ll be able to show up as me — imperfect, messy, still learning — and still feel held.
That’s what we’re building inside The BRAVE Trauma Therapist Collective.
Not perfect. But safe enough to be real.
It’s $12/month for a space where you can exhale. Where your fear, your honesty, your messiness won’t be too much.
You’re Not Alone
Take a breath with me right now, if you can.
Notice your shoulders. Notice what’s softened. Notice what’s still tense.
Just be with it — no pressure to fix anything.
And if you’re sitting there wondering: Is it even possible to feel safe in a therapist space anymore?
It is.
If you want to hear what that actually felt like in my body, I share about it in this video about the Brainspotting Intensive.
I hope it reminds you what’s possible.
Whether you share your story in the comments, or just sit quietly with what surfaced, that’s brave.
And if you’re looking for a space where you don’t have to perform or protect yourself just to belong?
We’d love to have you.
