Getting Started with Therapy
So, you’ve thought about therapy. Maybe your group chat told you to “talk to someone” after your fifth rant about your boss. Maybe you’re just tired of trauma-dumping on friends who respond with “omg same.” Or maybe you finally realized that scrolling TikTok for self-diagnosis at 2am isn’t quite the same as professional help (shocking, I know).
Whatever brought you here, good news: therapy isn’t as scary, awkward, or mysterious as it seems. Here’s how to actually get started—without spiraling in the process.
Step 1: Admit Therapy Is… Normal
First, let’s kill the stigma. Therapy doesn’t mean you’re “broken” or “crazy.” It means you’re human. Our brains need maintenance just like our bodies do. If we can pay strangers on the internet for gym memberships we barely use, we can definitely pay someone to help us untangle our thoughts.
Here’s the tough love: pretending you don’t need therapy when you’re clearly struggling doesn’t make you strong, it just makes you tired. Ignoring your mental health isn’t noble—it’s like ignoring a car engine light and then being shocked when your car breaks down on the highway. You can keep “powering through” all you want, but burnout, anxiety, and unresolved trauma don’t just disappear because you decided to vibe harder.
The truth is, everyone needs help sometimes. Even the people who look like they “have it all together” usually have someone they talk to—whether it’s a therapist, mentor, coach, or at minimum a very overworked best friend. If you keep unloading all your issues on your friends, by the way, that’s not “bonding,” that’s outsourcing emotional labor. Therapy exists so you don’t burn out your relationships while trying to heal yourself.
And let’s be real: if you can invest time and money into skincare routines, overpriced lattes, or concert tickets for artists who don’t even know you exist, you can invest in your brain. Therapy isn’t indulgent; it’s basic self-respect.
Step 2: Figure Out What You Need
Different people need different types of support:
If you’re stuck in a loop of overthinking, Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) might be your thing.
If your brain stores trauma like it’s a hoarder’s attic, EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) could help.
If you just want someone to validate your life choices and politely roast you into self-awareness, a general talk therapist works too.
Point is, therapy isn’t one-size-fits-all. Do a little research. See what clicks.
Step 3: The Search Begins
Finding a therapist is like dating, except instead of “what’s your favorite Netflix show?” you’re asking “how do you approach trauma responses?” It can feel awkward, but that’s normal. Use platforms like Psychology Today, Zocdoc, or even your insurance provider’s directory to start the search. Don’t be afraid to “shop around”—a first session doesn’t mean you’re locked in forever.
Step 4: Prepare for Session One
Your therapist isn’t expecting you to show up with a perfectly curated list of issues. Honestly, showing up at all is the win. But if you want to feel prepared, jot down a few things: what you’ve been struggling with, what you want out of therapy, and maybe one or two goals (even if the goal is just “please help me get my life together”).
Take Jamie, for example. She spent three months saying she’d “totally look for a therapist soon” while her friends side-eyed her at brunch. When she finally booked a session, she panicked in the waiting room because she had no idea what to say. So she blurted out, “I think my brain is broken.” Her therapist smiled and replied, “Good place to start.” Now, six months later, Jamie swears therapy hasn’t “fixed” her life but has helped her stop spiraling at 3am about texts she sent in 2018. Progress.
Step 5: Be Patient with Yourself
The first few sessions might feel weird. You’re basically trauma speed-dating a stranger, except instead of deciding if you want a second date, you’re deciding if you want this person to know about that time in middle school that still haunts you. Awkward? Absolutely. But awkward doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
Here’s the thing: therapy is a process, not a magic button. You’re not going to unload your life story in one session and walk out “cured.” That’s not how healing works. Trust takes time. It builds slowly, layer by layer, conversation by conversation. You might spend the first few weeks just circling the surface, talking about work stress or family drama, before you feel safe enough to dig into the deeper stuff. That’s normal.
And you need to hear this: progress often looks boring. It’s not some cinematic breakthrough where you cry dramatically and suddenly understand all your issues in one lightning bolt of clarity. Progress looks like noticing you didn’t spiral as hard as usual. It looks like realizing you set a boundary and didn’t crumble from guilt. It looks like catching yourself mid-negative-thought and actually redirecting. Tiny shifts add up.
The tough love? If you quit therapy after two sessions because it feels uncomfortable or “isn’t working fast enough,” you’re basically ghosting your own healing. You wouldn’t go to the gym once, fail to get abs, and decide fitness is a scam (okay, some of you would, but you get the point). Therapy takes consistency. Show up even when it feels pointless, because those small, awkward, “is this even helping?” sessions are often where the groundwork is being laid.
Celebrate the wins: being honest when you’d normally shut down, showing up when you’d rather cancel, catching subtle shifts in how you think or feel. These things matter. They’re proof that therapy is doing its work—quietly, steadily, beneath the surface.
So yes, the first stretch might feel clunky and slow. Stick with it anyway. Because future you—the one who feels lighter, clearer, and more in control—will be grateful you didn’t quit on yourself.
