Self-Compassion in the Therapy Room: Holding Space for Myself and Others

One of the hardest lessons in becoming a counsellor has been recognising that self-compassion is not optional; it is essential. I remember early in my training, sitting with a client who was struggling profoundly, and feeling my chest tighten with the weight of responsibility. Every story of pain, every tear, every moment of resistance felt like a mirror reflecting my own vulnerabilities. I wanted to fix them, to make their suffering disappear, but of course, that isn’t possible.

In those moments, my old inner critic - Slash, my unrelenting Dementor - would whisper, You’re not good enough. You should be doing more. You’re failing them. And I realised that if I allowed myself to be swallowed by that voice, I could neither think clearly nor offer the empathy my client needed. I had to practise self-compassion in real time: noticing my own fear, anxiety, and frustration, and acknowledging it without judgement. I had to tell myself, You are human. You are doing your best. You are enough right now.

It’s astonishing how transformative this practice has been. By extending compassion to myself, I discovered that I could hold more space for others. I could sit with their pain without collapsing under its weight, without turning it into a reflection of my own inadequacy. I could witness their struggle and honour it, rather than trying to fix it immediately or over-identifying with it.

Self-compassion also allows me to respond thoughtfully when a client triggers a strong emotional reaction in me. I might feel frustration, impatience, or sadness - and that’s okay. Rather than beating myself up for having these feelings, I acknowledge them, take a breath, and consider what they might be teaching me. Often, they reveal parallel processes: reflections of unresolved feelings in me that mirror the client’s experiences. Being kind to myself in those moments keeps me grounded, alert and empathic.

There are, of course, moments when I struggle. Some sessions leave me drained, moments when I’ve been pushed to witness intense trauma or resistance. In those moments, I remind myself that self-compassion is not about ignoring my limits. It’s about honouring them. Taking a break, seeking supervision, or simply breathing and acknowledging my humanity is not failure - it is practice. It is part of ethical, safe and sustainable counselling.

I also notice how self-compassion shapes the messages I offer clients. When I can authentically say, You are doing your best and that is enough, it carries more weight because I have lived it myself. It becomes a bridge - a model - demonstrating that it is possible to hold your imperfections gently, to face fear, shame, or resistance without being crushed by it. In counselling, it is as much about modelling self-kindness as it is about guiding clients toward it.

Ultimately, self-compassion in the therapy room is not just a personal skill; it is a professional necessity. It allows me to hold the delicate balance between presence and boundaries, empathy and discernment, care and sustainability. It reminds me that I am human, my clients are human, and that our shared humanity is not a weakness - it is the foundation for trust, connection, and meaningful change.

Every session, every interaction, every reflection is an invitation to practise this gentle art. And with each step, I find myself more patient, more present, and more able to honour the humanity in both myself and those I have the privilege to support.