My Job is Weird
- Brandi K Harris, MS, LPC & LMFT
- 4 hours ago
- 2 min read
Being a counselor, I practice some of the most intense forms of attunement and care, without getting anything in return but the satisfaction of helping and some money. It's a bit bizarre in that my own fragile humanity is crucial in the practice, but is not protected or cared for by anyone but myself. The counseling relationship is highly intimate for the client, but that is not reciprocal.
One of the things I love about my job is the sacredness of my office. When I turn that sound machine on and close the door, my goal is to provide a type of safety that exists in few other places. In that space you are allowed to be a mess without fear of judgement or rejection in the presence of another fully human, caring witness. You don't have to be my friend or attune to me. Your willingness to pay gets you off the hook for the weight of reciprocity. You can feel loved without loving me at all.
Being allowed in that space with another human, for whom it's my job to care, is a great honor. Even with the context of safety, clients have to be incredibly brave to face themselves. Most of the time, their honesty is the key to their own healing. Once they can face it, they can work through it. Their transparency allows me to see their raw form deep inside. It's both beautiful and ugly; beautiful in its complexity and love, ugly in its fear and selfishness.
I wouldn't say that people are simple, but we are similar. We all want to be loved. We all want to feel safe. We all suffer. We all wrestle with our own demons. We all desire purposefulness.
When I open my door, I begin to melt the self-protective cloak I've wrapped around myself for the client's sake. I no longer have to hold the full weight of my own safety and yours. The cost of carrying that weight is great on my own emotional health. Outside of my office I must access my own resources: I have friends and family who care for me and my own therapist who sees me at that same deep level. I practice a lot of solitude and mindfulness and I cry often. I make sure I get to have fun. I protect my sleep and feed myself well. My job wouldn't be sustainable without highly intentional self-care.
