How Therapy Has Changed (and Why It Matters)

When I first experienced therapy in my thirties, it looked very different from the way I work now.

My first therapist mostly sat in silence. It was the epitome of the classic “shrink” image: the quiet professional who waits for the client to fill the space. Later, when I worked with a trauma specialist, the approach was gentler but still distant. She told me I never had to speak about what happened in my childhood, and she was right that doing so could have cost me relationships — but something in me stayed frozen.

Looking back, I can see those therapists were working within the framework of their time. Their focus was on neutrality and containment — the idea that insight would arise in the silence. For some, that may work. But for many of us, what we need first isn’t interpretation. It’s connection.

Therapy has changed.

We now know that healing doesn’t come from analysis alone, but from co-regulation — two nervous systems finding a rhythm where safety becomes possible. We understand that the body needs to be part of the conversation, not just the mind. And we recognise that the relationship between therapist and client is the therapy, not merely the backdrop for it.

The kind of therapy I offer today reflects this evolution. It’s collaborative, experiential, and rooted in the here and now. Sometimes that means walking outside together, exploring what “grounded” feels like in the body. Sometimes it means noticing how emotions live in our muscles and breath rather than in stories. Always, it means we work together to create safety before diving into pain.
​
The quiet still matters — but now it’s an alive quiet, shared and human.