As psychotherapists, many of us enter this field with a genuine desire to help people. We want to support our clients through difficult experiences, help them make meaningful changes, and hopefully reduce some of the suffering they're experiencing.
And, of course, problem-solving is a valuable skill to have as a therapist.
But there's a theme I've been noticing lately in my work with other psychotherapists. Many of us can become so attached to the idea of being helpful that we start to believe our job is to fix whatever our clients are struggling with.
The fixer part is a part of us that really wants to help, that struggles to watch someone experience pain, and that sometimes gets a little panicked when things aren't getting better.
This part usually has really good intentions. But when it starts taking over our clinical work, it can get in the way of something incredibly important: our ability to simply be present with our clients.
So, let's talk about a few things that I think our fixer parts need to hear.
Human Emotions Are Not Problems to Be Solved
Even the difficult, complicated, confusing, and uncomfortable ones.
Human emotions are experiences we have, not problems that need solutions.
When we're sitting across from a client who's experiencing grief, sadness, fear, or hurt, it makes sense that a part of us might want to jump in and make things better.
But experiencing difficult emotions is a very normal part of being human.
When we're navigating loss, uncertainty, relationship challenges, or significant life transitions, we're going to experience emotions that aren't particularly comfortable. And that doesn't necessarily mean something is wrong or that something needs to be fixed.
A lot of our work as therapists isn't about making those emotions disappear.
It's about sitting alongside our clients while they experience them. It's about being a resource for them as they learn to regulate their nervous systems, notice what's happening internally, and develop compassion for themselves as they move through difficult experiences.
Sometimes the most helpful thing we can offer isn't a solution, a strategy, or a new perspective.
Sometimes it's our ability to stay present with someone while they're having a really hard time.
Being a Compassionate Therapist Doesn't Mean Taking Away Someone's Hurt
I think this is an especially important reminder for those of us who have strong fixer parts.
Being compassionate doesn't mean we have the ability, or the responsibility, to take away someone's emotional pain.
What we can do is witness it.
We can observe, notice, reflect, and help our clients make sense of what they're experiencing.
Our observational skills are such an important part of our clinical work, particularly when we're supporting someone who's really going through it.
But when our fixer part gets activated, we might find ourselves moving away from observing and toward doing.
Maybe we start offering coping strategies before the client has had an opportunity to fully experience what they're feeling. Maybe we try to reassure them that things will get better, remind them of a time when they felt differently, or encourage them to focus on something more positive.
And while these responses might come from a caring place, they aren't always what our clients need in that moment.
Sometimes what they really need is an opportunity to experience their emotions without someone trying to change them.
They need to learn that they can feel something difficult and remain connected to themselves. That they can trust their own capacity to move through emotional experiences. And that we, as their therapists, can stay connected to them while they're hurting.
Pain doesn't always need a problem-solving approach. Sometimes it just needs to be compassionately witnessed.
There's something incredibly valuable about being with another person in their pain without feeling responsible for making it disappear.
Our Fixer Parts Really Struggle When We Become Attached to Client Outcomes
This is one I see come up quite often in clinical supervision.
Imagine you're working with a client who comes to therapy wanting to feel happier, experience less sadness, or generally feel better about their life.
You've been working together for a few sessions, and one day they say something like:
"I don't really know if this is helping. I don't feel like anything is changing."
Oof.
For a therapist with a strong fixer part, this can feel pretty uncomfortable.
Suddenly, we might start questioning ourselves. Are we doing enough? Are we using the right interventions? Should we be doing something differently? Are we actually helping this person?
And before we know it, our attention has shifted away from what's happening with our client and toward our own anxiety about whether therapy is working.
This is where becoming overly attached to client outcomes can really interfere with our clinical presence.
Of course, outcomes matter. We want our clients to experience meaningful change, and we have a responsibility to regularly evaluate whether our work together is helpful.
But we also need to recognize that change doesn't always happen on the timeline we expect, and it certainly doesn't always happen in a linear way.
When we can loosen our grip on the outcome, we create more room to become curious about the process.
What's happening for this client right now? What are they noticing emotionally, physically, and cognitively? How is their nervous system responding? What patterns are showing up? What's working for them, and what isn't?
Therapy often involves supporting meaningful behavioural change, but before we can explore what needs to change, we need to understand what's happening.
And that requires curiosity, observation, and collaboration rather than urgency.
Sometimes we also need to recognize that our approach might not be what a particular client needs. And that's important information, too.
Learning to Get Curious Instead of Getting Panicked
If you've ever felt that little wave of panic when a client questions whether therapy is helping, you're certainly not alone.
I think most of us have experienced this at some point in our clinical work.
But rather than allowing our fixer part to take over and work even harder to prove that we're helping, what if we slowed down and got curious?
What if we asked our clients:
What's been feeling helpful about our work together?
Is there anything that hasn't been working for you?
Are there things you need more or less of from me?
How are you experiencing our therapeutic relationship?
Is there something we could do differently that might feel more supportive?
These conversations can feel vulnerable, especially when we're worried about receiving critical feedback.
But feedback is such an important part of building and maintaining a strong therapeutic relationship.
We need to know when something isn't working. We need to be willing to hear when our approach isn't meeting a client's needs. And we need to be able to explore those experiences without immediately interpreting them as evidence that we're not good therapists.
Sometimes being helpful means making adjustments. Sometimes it means acknowledging that a different approach or therapist might be a better fit.
And sometimes it means continuing to show up, staying curious, and trusting that meaningful change takes time.
A Little Compassion for the Fixer Parts in All of Us
So, to all the therapists out there who have a fixer part that shows up in your clinical work, I want to offer a little compassion.
That part of you probably cares deeply about the people you work with. It wants to be helpful. It wants your clients to feel better. And it might work really hard to make sure you're doing a good job.
But we don't need to let that part lead our sessions.
We can notice when it shows up, appreciate its good intentions, and gently remind ourselves that our job isn't to eliminate every difficult emotion our clients experience.
Our work is about so much more than solving problems.
It's about helping people understand themselves, develop compassion for their experiences, build trust in their own capacity, and make meaningful changes in their lives.
And sometimes, it's about offering another human being the experience of being seen, understood, and supported while they're going through something difficult.
So, to the fixer parts in all of us:
Thank you for trying so hard to take away everyone's pain. You’re so compassionate, caring, and loving. But not everything is a problem to be solved.
Thanks for staying until the end! If you’re interested in working with me, please email: alyssa@naturalselfps.com or book and consultation here: https://aws-portal.owlpractice.ca/naturalselfps/booking
I’d love to support your practice!
Sincerely,
Alyssa
