WHY YOUR THERAPIST DOESN'T TALK ABOUT THEMSELVES (AND WHY IT’S A GOOD THING)
Seth Wagerman, Ph.D.
Jan 1
5 min read
“Where did you go on your vacation?” my client asks me. Or, “haven’t you ever experienced anything like this yourself?” Or, exasperated: "I don’t even know if you have kids or not!”
There’s a moment of silence as I deliberate whether and how to respond. I’ll generally agree to answer, but only after I’ve asked a question of my own: “what would it mean to you if I answered [yes or no]?” Or, “I wonder what made you curious about that?”
I’m not trying to be cagey. I recognize that many clients wonder about their therapists and feel uncomfortable within what is clearly an unbalanced relationship. Most people are used to conversations being a bit more… well, conversational. And after all, your therapist knows your deepest thoughts and fears, your aspirations and anxieties – but seems to have taken a vow of silence about their own personal life. Why is that?
Truth be told, it isn’t always easy to keep the relationship so one-sided! But there are some very good reasons for it, and they’re all meant to serve you. Let’s unravel the mystery of why therapists like to be mysterious, and explore why this unusual dynamic is essential for therapy to work.
THE THERAPEUTIC RELATIONSHIP IS MEANT TO BE UNIQUE
You’d probably be considered a bad friend if you talked about yourself incessantly without letting the other person have equal time. Most relationships are built to be reciprocal: you both worry about each other and each person gets time to explore how they feel and what they need.
But the goal of therapy is to help you understand your genuine self – and that’s harder to do if you’re worrying about your therapist’s sick kid or terminally ill aunt. Your therapist doesn’t want you to wonder if it’s a bad day to share the tough things on your mind. This one-sidedness allows you to explore your thoughts and feelings without the usual social obligations. It’s understandable if this feels strange at first; it’s an adjustment to have the spotlight primarily on you. But where else in your life do you get 45 uninterrupted minutes to talk about yourself without someone impatiently waiting to interject? You’re not paying good money to hear about my childhood!
But let’s go even one step deeper: for therapists who practice from a psychodynamic perspective, as I do, it’s valuable when clients can imagine things about me without knowing the truth. The thoughts, feelings, and assumptions a client projects onto their therapist reveal insights into their internal world. You might imagine your therapist to be a good dad or a critical mother; a caring mentor or an authority figure to rail against. It’s why I might ask: “what if I said no, I didn’t have kids? What would that mean to you?”
BE A HUMAN FIRST? OR A THERAPIST FIRST?
“Sometimes, you have to be a human first,” was one of the earliest lessons in training. When someone asks how you’re feeling after you’ve just been sick, how your holiday weekend went, or when there’s been a rupture between you, the response should be human first: “I still feel a bit sniffly” or “It was great fun, thank you!” or “I’m truly sorry; this was my fault.” Showing genuine empathy, warmth, and understanding creates a safe and connected space where sharing relevant experiences can normalize struggles and model healthy emotional expression.
A concrete example: I was once an aviophobe – I hated airplanes! But now I’m a frequent flyer. I might share this with a client because 1) it models vulnerability, encouraging them to be open in therapy; 2) it normalizes the experience of anxiety and phobia, reducing shame and isolation; 3) it shows that meaningful change through therapy is indeed possible. Even so, I’m mindful of when to share such stories and to whom: studies* have shown that while judicious sharing can enhance the therapeutic alliance, excessive self-disclosure can damage it. The goal is to build connection, not weigh clients down with our own issues.
It isn’t always easy to resist being conversational! When a client’s story reminds me of my own experience, mentions a restaurant I love, or wonder if I’m a Swiftie,** the urge to jump in with my own thoughts can be strong. However, therapists are trained to recognize and resist this impulse. In those moments, I pause and ask myself: do I want to say this because it will serve my client? Or does it satisfy a need of my own? If it’s the latter, I keep quiet. Sharing to be liked, to reminisce, to process my own experiences, or to fill uncomfortable silences undermines the work we do together. And there are things a therapist should never share: that they find you attractive, that they are struggling with their own current addictions or crises, or any specific details about their other clients. These are red flags that should prompt you to consider changing therapists and contacting the Board of Psychology. For less serious oversharing, you might first try discussing with your therapist how it makes you feel, or seek someone else whose interpersonal style better matches your needs.
THERAPY SHOULD GIVE YOU A DIFFERENT EXPERIENCE
Your therapist's caution in talking about themselves is a gift – an intentional choice to create a unique space focused entirely on your own experiences, thoughts and feelings. As part of our work, therapists have the opportunity to come across a lot of wonderful humans who, under other circumstances, would be great to chat with over coffee. But a therapist is deliberately not your friend, even after therapy has ended; we’re here to offer you a different experience than you’ve already had in past relationships. This requires a level of boundaries and self-discipline that sets therapy apart from everyday connections.
It's normal to be curious about the person sharing such meaningful conversations with you. You may even feel that knowing more about your therapist would help you feel safer, seen, or understood – and we understand that. It’s never wrong to ask (this article just been about why we might not always answer!). Therapists genuinely appreciate your curiosity about them – it shows you care. Trust me, though – they care about you more. That's why we became therapists in the first place.
So when your therapist redirects a personal question back to you, remember: they’re not hiding themselves from you – they’re making space for you to find yourself. And know that this space, focused entirely on your journey, allows for the kind of deep exploration and growth that makes therapy transformative.
FOR FURTHER READING on boundaries and self-disclosure, read “The Gift of Therapy: An Open Letter to a New Generation of Therapists and their Patients” (Yalom, 2017).
*See, e.g., Henretty & Levitt (2010), Alfi-Yogev, et al. (2021), and Pomerantz & Appelt (2024).
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