Thinking about Therapy?

When You’ve Been Thinking About Reaching Out for Months But Something Keeps Stopping You

There’s a word that comes up a lot in my work.

Not in a clinical way. In the quietest, most human way.

Ambivalence.

It’s what’s happening when someone tells me they’ve been thinking about reaching out for months but something keeps stopping them.

And here’s the thing I’ve noticed: most people don’t know why, exactly. They just know there’s a gap between thinking about it and actually doing it. And they’ve been living in that gap for a long time.

The question I hear most often even when no one says it out loud

Before I get to what’s doing the stopping, there’s something bigger worth naming.

Most people don’t know where to begin.

Not just how to start therapy, but whether what they’re experiencing is even enough to warrant it. Whether they’re “bad enough.” Whether they’ll walk in (or log on) and find themselves unable to explain what they’re actually there for.

That uncertainty, I’m not sure this is even the right thing for me is one of the most common things I sit with. And it often doesn’t sound like uncertainty. It sounds like procrastination. It looks like another month of not booking the call.

If that’s where you are, I want you to know: not knowing where to begin is a completely valid place to begin from. You don’t need to arrive with a clear problem statement. You don’t need a diagnosis or a referral or a crisis. You just need to be curious enough to show up and we’ll find the thread from there.

Back to what’s stopping you because it matters

Sometimes that something is fear. Fear of what you’ll find if you actually look. Fear that what you’re carrying isn’t bad enough. Fear that saying it out loud makes it more real.

And sometimes it’s not fear at all.

It’s a plate that’s already full. A life that leaves no obvious space. Therapy feeling like one more thing when there’s already too much.

Both of those are real barriers. And they’re different because they need different responses.

When it’s fear

The fear of looking is almost always louder than what’s actually there.

Most people find that once something is named, it’s more manageable than the version they’d been carrying quietly. The unnamed thing tends to grow in the dark. It takes up more space unspoken than it ever does when it finally has a container.

And if you’ve read The Grief Nobody Names this is connected to that. Sometimes what we’re afraid to look at isn’t a crisis. It’s a quiet grief that doesn’t have a shape yet.

When it’s the full plate

The answer isn’t to wait until life gets easier. It rarely does.

The answer is to make the first step as small as possible. A 20-minute call. One question. One small move.

The people who are most overwhelmed are often the ones who most need somewhere to put some of it down.

If you’ve been in a season of change — new roles, shifting identity, relational weight you might recognise yourself in Why Transitions Feel Heavy. Overwhelm during transition isn’t weakness. It’s what happens when the inside of your life is changing faster than the outside can catch up.

What about fitting it in?

This comes up a lot for people who are already stretched they can’t see where therapy would even sit in their week.

I offer early morning, daytime, and after-work sessions, and everything is available online, which means you can be anywhere in Australia Western Sydney, Newcastle, regional NSW, anywhere with internet and still access consistent, grounded support.

You can read more about how that works on the Services page.

The part that trips most people up

There’s a quiet assumption that you need to feel ready before you reach out.

Ready to commit. Ready to open up. Ready to know what you want from it.

You don’t.

Readiness is something that often only comes after the first step not before it. Most people who find their way into therapy describe it the same way: they weren’t sure they were ready. They just got tired enough to try.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re sitting between two versions of yourself not quite who you were, not yet who you’re becoming Snakes Ladders and the Square You’re On might be worth a read.

A note if you’re holding two things at once

Sometimes what’s stopping someone isn’t fear or a full plate. It’s that they feel genuinely ambivalent they want support and they’re not sure they deserve it. They want to talk and they’re not sure they have the words.

If that sounds familiar, Two Things Can Be True at the Same Time was written for exactly that.

What I want you to know You don’t have to feel ready. You don’t have to have decided anything. You don’t have to know how it’s going to fit. You just have to be tired enough to be curious about what’s on the other side. That’s enough.

Free 20-minute introductory call “no referral needed.”