On How Practicing Relational Therapy Helps Therapists
As therapists, we’re trained to hold space, listen deeply, and support others in their growth. But what about our own? Too often, clinicians enter this work with passion only to find themselves wrestling with burnout, disconnection, or even resentment toward the job they once loved. Relational psychotherapy for therapists—both as a clinical approach and as a way of being—offers a path not just to better outcomes for clients, but also to greater sustainability and career satisfaction for therapists.
What Is Relational Therapy?
Relational therapy (also called relational psychotherapy) places the therapeutic relationship at the center of healing. Rather than focusing narrowly on symptoms or interventions, it emphasizes connection, reciprocity, and the co-created experience between therapist and client. This approach draws from attachment theory, relational gestalt, and intersubjectivity, all of which suggest that growth happens most powerfully in the context of safe, authentic, and mutual relationships.
Why therapeutic Alliance Matters Most
Of course, most of us therapists know firsthand that therapeutic alliance is an essential component of effective therapy! In a relational approach to psychotherapy, we recognize: “[the therapeutic] alliance is a specific treatment factor that drives therapeutic change itself and may be of greater significance in some psychotherapies (e.g., relational therapies) over others (e.g., cognitive behavioral therapy.)” From Baier, Kline, and Feeny’s “Therapeutic alliance as a mediator of change: A systematic review and evaluation of research.”
Relational therapists believe that the therapeutic relationship IS the vehicle for change. Of course we have our toolbox of interventions like all therapists do, but the core of relational work can truly be (oversimplified) as: Being Human. Is there an art to it? Maybe even a finesse? Sure. Are we intentional about what we disclose? Do we still have strong boundaries? Of course! But the heart of working relationally is this: therapists embracing their own humanity and being their authentic selves in the room. When we lead with our own messy humanness, it gives our clients felt permission to do so as well, and to truly trust they aren’t alone.
Relational therapy doesn’t frame the problem as something “wrong” inside the client; they’re not a problem to be “fixed.” Instead, working relationally explores how patterns of relating show up in the therapy room—including considering how the client interacts with systems and their larger environment—and creates space to experiment with new ways of being. Healing happens not through “fixing” but through genuine, human connection.
Want a primer for clients? Read our blog on How Relational Therapy Helps You Heal.
Why Relational Therapy Matters for Therapists
Relational therapy is transformative for clients, but it’s also a game-changer (perhaps even a life-changer?!) for the therapists who practice it.
I’m sure you’ve never felt this way, but before I started working relationally, I often felt frequent imposter syndrome—”not theoretical enough,” “not skilled enough,” “not life-experienced enough” for my clients to trust I could actually help them. Could I actually help them?! Who am I to try to sit with someone in an existential crisis when I have the same questions? How can I help someone manage the deep grief of losing a parent when I haven’t yet experienced this? What do I know about earning secure attachment when I’m so clearly anxiously attached?!
Honestly, discovering relational psychotherapy for therapists felt like such a balm to my (former) anxiously-attached, imposter spiraling, perfection-seeking self. The more I learned, the more I felt permission to be myself—I didn’t have to have all the answers or have it all (anything?!) figured out.
When the therapeutic relationship is the primary intervention for cultivating growth and change, often being yourself is really enough. Don’t believe me? You’re a therapist, you know how to build deeply connected, authentic relationships, right? We talk about this in the Private Practice for Beginners group I run often and this is always a hot topic! It’s hard to trust that being a skilled and effective therapist might be this simple. Trust me, I get it. And, I think often it really is.
“Working relationally means I don’t have to be a perfect therapist — I just have to be a human one.”
Improving Client Outcomes Through Connection
Most of the clients we work with at Kindman & Co. come to us because they’re experiencing some kind of relationship distress/attachment trauma; struggling with embracing all parts of themselves and their identity; navigating crisis, loss, or life transitions; or finding it difficult to bear the weight of existential concerns and the heaviness of such frequent injustices in the world around them.
Symptoms Often Rooted in Relationships
Of course, these concerns often present with the symptoms we therapists know so well: anxiety, depression, excessive rage, low self-worth, PTSD, insecure attachment styles—just to name a few. But most of the time, the mental health symptoms and signs of distress we see come into our therapy office find their roots in relationships. We learn about ourselves and the world through relationships—this can be both so harmful and so healing.
Across the board, what most supports my clients to heal and grow is getting to feel fully heard, seen, understood, and ultimately, less alone. For many, this is the first time they’ve ever been truly affirmed for who they are; the first time they’ve taken a terrifying, emotional risk and been met with care, warmth, and deeper connection.
Research consistently shows that the therapeutic alliance is the strongest predictor of successful outcomes across all modalities (Norcross & Lambert, 2019). Relational therapy makes this alliance the heart of the work. By naming dynamics as they unfold and co-creating authentic connection, we give our therapy clients an opportunity for growth that goes beyond symptom management and into real relational transformation. Not only do they end up deepening their relationships and expanding their communities, but they also become more authentically themselves and feel pride in doing so.
Reducing Therapist Burnout and Compassion Fatigue
If you’ve ever found yourself dreading your next session, secretly Googling “alternative careers for therapists” at 2 A.M., or feeling like you’re pouring from an empty cup…hi, welcome. You’re not alone. Burnout is real, and it’s not a personal failing—it’s a systemic issue that gets amplified when we feel pressure to be neutral, endlessly empathic, and basically, superhuman. WTF?! Is anyone else feeling some rage that this is how we’re taught to be as therapists: to have unending care while also having mastered “healthy” and “professional” boundaries?
I know I’m not the only one who actually became a therapist because of my already-established tendency toward being a big feeler, holding a lot of empathy, and always showing up for others (often to my own detriment.) So many of us were conditioned early to be giving too much of ourselves and thus, chose a profession where this would be seen as a virtue and essential skill. To be clear, that’s not why I do this work now, but certainly held an unconscious appeal when I was starting out! So, if many of us developed early coping/survival strategies of people-pleasing and over-focusing on caring for others and our field teaches us to be neutral, non-judgmental, and endlessly empathic, how can we ever not be burned out? Is therapist burnout prevention a joke—like, is that even a real thing?!
Well, I’m so glad you asked!
how relational therapy prevents therapist burnout
Working relationally has been the single biggest buffer for me against burnout—that, and many days off! Why? Because it means I don’t have to play the role of “the perfect therapist.” And as a therapist with chronic illness, most days I could never come close! I get to be myself—messy, imperfect, but deeply human.
Instead of pretzeling myself into a blank slate, I’m encouraged to take a stance and embrace my values. I can name when I feel distance in the room, acknowledge when I’ve misunderstood something, and repair when I inevitably mess up. Paradoxically, my clients actually trust me more when I show my humanity—they like knowing where I stand on issues that matter greatly to them and feel comforted knowing we are all fighting to move toward justice.
This shared trust cultivates therapist sustainability. It may be hard to believe, but my clients are actually happy for me when I take vacations and meet me with empathy when I seem tired or share that I’m not feeling well. Bringing my messy, human self into the room helps them to feel genuine care for me, too. Contrary to what we’ve been told, this is actually a good thing! Genuine, healthy relationships are two-way: where both parties are holding empathy and care for each other simultaneously. This is what we’re modeling when we work this way with our clients. And, a big bonus: I end my workdays less depleted because I don’t have to wear a mask or constantly pour out of my empathy cup for five sessions straight.
Relational therapy allows you, the therapist, to also feel supported and nourished by the therapeutic relationship—it works to refill your cup—even when the main focus of the work is supporting the client’s healing and growth. Relational therapy reminds us that authenticity creates connection. That being real is sustainable. And sustainability, for therapists, is survival.
Increasing Job Satisfaction and Therapist Engagement
Let’s be honest: sometimes therapy can feel monotonous. You’re listening, reflecting, interpreting, offering a skill or intervention…rinse and repeat. Relational work, on the other hand, is dynamic and vibrant—it’s alive. It’s about true engagement, moments of deep presence, and sitting in uncertainty, together. Sessions become less about “delivering” something and more about participating in a relationship that’s unfolding in real time.
I can’t tell you how many times a relational moment has surprised me awake—a client naming a fear of disappointing me, or laughing with me about something vulnerable, or bravely asking, “Do you actually like me?” These aren’t neat little interventions from a manual; they’re deeply human moments that change both of us.
When I’m engaged like this, I leave sessions feeling not just tired (because let’s be real, therapy is still tiring), but also inspired and grateful. This is where joy seeps back into the work, where curiosity feels natural again, and where we can remember: Oh yeah, I really like being a therapist.
Practicing Therapy That Aligns With Your Values
If you became a therapist because you believe in authenticity, justice, or simply the power of connection—you’re in good company. The beauty of relational psychotherapy is that it explicitly makes room for values in the room.
We don’t pretend that therapy happens in a vacuum. We acknowledge that race, class, gender, sexuality, disability, and culture all shape how we move through the world and how we connect with each other. Ignoring that would be unethical at best and harmful at worst; naming it, on the other hand, becomes a pathway to deeper trust.
For me, working relationally means I don’t have to split off parts of myself to fit a “professional” mold. On our team, we actually call professionalism “The ‘P’ Word” because to us, it evokes an icky feeling that works against leading with our values of showing up with vulnerability and realness. FYI, “fucks” and “shits” are welcome though!
I can be a feminist, a social justice advocate, a queer-affirming clinician, a disabled person, and a warm, flawed human—all in one body, all in the therapy room. Practicing this way feels more aligned with who I am, which makes the work more sustainable and a lot more satisfying.
Making Room for Play and Celebration
One of the surprising pleasures of working relationally is that it makes space for play. So much of therapy—both for clients and for us as therapists—can feel heavy: grief, trauma, injustice, existential dread (hello, Sunday Scaries). Relational psychotherapy reminds us that healing also happens in laughter, in delight, and in moments of shared joy.
When I started practicing relationally, I noticed I laughed more in sessions—not in a dismissive way, but in a deeply connected way that said, “We survived that really tough thing. We get to smile together now.” And, I felt permission to be more light-hearted and not always pulling for the dark, heavy, gritty stuff. Like we can listen to music with clients, we can talk about the movie they saw last week, we can even dance with them! OMG, what?! These moments weren’t “off-task.” They were healing. They signaled safety and trust. They reminded both me and my clients that we are more than our pain. And, that humor, levity, and enjoyment are some of the greatest resources for coping with pain.
A few years back, I watched a Janina Fisher Sensorimotor Training, Grieving a Lost Childhood: A Somatic Approach to Healing Emotional Wounds. One of the takeaways that I always carry with me was her reflection that our ability to feel pleasure is as important as our ability to feel pain. Resilience for moving through grief requires flexibility—being able to feel sadness AND joy—and to regularly undulate through these vastly different emotion states.
Celebration, too, is a crucial part of relational work. Many of my clients have never had anyone truly celebrate their wins with them—big or small. Naming their courage, honoring their resilience, even pausing to high-five (yes, I high-five and offer hugs to my clients) can be transformative. And honestly? It transforms me too. I relish in moments where my clients accomplish what they’ve set out to and delight in moments when they feel so proud and empowered! Those moments break up the monotony of back-to-back sessions and keep me connected to the joy of the work.
Making room for play and celebration in relational therapy isn’t just about “feeling good.” It’s about re-training nervous systems to recognize joy, building relational templates that include delight, and sustaining ourselves as therapists so we can keep showing up. Because if therapy is only ever trudging through mud, for either client or clinician, who wants to willingly sign up for that?!
“Relational therapy reminds us that authenticity creates connection. That being real is sustainable. And sustainability, for therapists, is survival.”
Relational Therapy in Practice: What It Means for Clinicians
As I’ve mentioned a few times now, relational therapy asks therapists to use themselves as instruments of change. That means reflecting patterns as they arise, guiding clients through the vulnerability of repairing ruptures, and staying attuned to how your own nervous system regulates in connection with another. It also means being transparent to help build trust and acknowledging the social contexts—power, privilege, oppression—that shape relationships.
In practice, relational therapy gives therapists permission to be human. Rather than striving for perfection or hiding behind clinical distance, you can bring your full self into the room in service of the client’s growth. That humanity isn’t only healing for the client; it’s also a protective factor for you.
So what does “working relationally” actually look like when you’re the one in the therapist chair? Spoiler: it’s not about tossing your clinical training out the window and just “hanging out” or “becoming friends” with clients. Rather, it’s about letting your humanity, your attunement, and your willingness to name what’s happening between you and your client become central tools in the room.
Examples of Relational Moments in Session
Okay, okay, I know. You’re like, Sure Kaitlin, all this sounds good, but give me actual tangible tools and examples of relational therapy in session.
So, imagine this: your client cancels last minute for the third week in a row. Instead of quietly rescheduling and secretly fuming (we’ve all been there!), working relationally might sound like: “I notice we’ve had a few last-minute changes recently. I’m hoping we can discuss this together as I’d like to better understand what’s been happening for you recently and explore how this impacts our relationship. First, I’m wondering what it feels like for me to bring this up to you today?” Wow, look what you did! You’ve just taken something that could be brushed under the rug (and become a silent source of growing resentment) and turned it into an exploration of boundaries, safety, attachment, and genuine care for your client’s wellbeing.
If that didn’t quite settle your longing for real-life examples of relational therapy in session, here’s another one. Maybe your client says something that stings—like questioning whether you even know what you’re doing. (Ouch! Cue the aforementioned therapist imposter spiral!) In a relational frame, instead of swallowing the pain or defensively over-explaining your credentials, you might pause, take a veryyy deep breath, and say: “Oof, hearing that lands in a tender spot for me. I’m kind of torn—there’s a part of me that feels some hurt and wants to defend myself, and a bigger part of me that greatly appreciates your honesty as I know it can be hard for you to openly express concerns you’re feeling. I want to check in—what was it like for you to say that out loud to me?” Suddenly, you’re both in a real moment of vulnerability that deepens trust.
Using Your Nervous System as a Tool
Relational therapy also means making your nervous system part of the work. When a client is activated, you don’t have to be a stone statue of calm—you can notice your own heart rate, your breath, and intentionally co-regulate in the room. Sometimes that looks like slowing your speech, softening your body posture, or naming the heaviness in the space: “I can feel how much weight this carries. Can we take a breath and pause here for a moment.”
Experimentation in the Therapy Room
And yes, sometimes it means experimenting: role plays, empty chair work/imagined dialogues, or even laughing at the absurdity of being two humans in a room (or on telehealth) trying to figure out how to “human” better. It’s equal parts art, science, and gut instinct.
Working this way doesn’t just help clients shift relational patterns—it also makes your sessions less draining, more engaging, and honestly, more fun. You’re not just “doing therapy”; you’re building something alive and mutual that heals both of you in different ways.
The Case for Relational Training
Most of us left grad school with a backpack full of interventions—CBT thought logs, DBT skill sheets, maybe some EMDR scripts (not me, too long ago!)—but very little training in how to use ourselves in the room. In fact, the message was most frequently: be helpful, but don’t be too human. Which is…awkward, given that, as of this writing, most of us are not (yet) therapy robots. We are literally humans, first; therapists, second.
Skills You’ll Gain in Relational Training
Relational therapy training (with CEUs) fills this gap. It’s not about tossing your toolbox, it’s about learning how to weave it together with your actual presence. Training in relational therapy gives you more confidence to trust your human instinct. To notice and name what’s happening between you and your client in real time, to tolerate the messiness of vulnerability, and to practice balancing transparency with boundaries. You’ll get more skilled at rupture-and-repair, sharpen your awareness of cultural and identity-based dynamics, and stretch your capacity to sit with complexity instead of rushing to resolve it.
And maybe most importantly? Relational training gives you permission to lead with your humanness, which not only helps your clients heal, but also helps you feel more grounded, sustained, and alive in the work.
👉 Curious to learn more? Explore our clinical training series, How to Be a Relational Therapist (HTBART), designed for clinicians who want to deepen their relational practice and earn relational therapy training CEUs while doing it!
Relational Therapy fosters Therapist Sustainability
Burnout in the Mental Health Field
We don’t need another statistic to know burnout is rampant in our field—but just in case: a “Burnout in Mental Health Services” literature review reports that somewhere between 21-67% of mental health workers may be experiencing high levels of burnout and Simionato & Simpson (in a review of psychotherapists) found that over 50% of participants reported high levels of emotional exhaustion. It’s not just the caseloads or the low reimbursement rates; it’s also the pressure to perform therapy as if we’re detached, endlessly empathic robots.
Relational Therapy as a Sustainability Practice
Relational therapy offers a different path—one that fosters longevity and therapist sustainability. When you stop performing neutrality and start showing up authentically, the work gets lighter. Not necessarily easier, but less draining and less lonely. When sessions feel like two humans connecting and come alive with meaning, instead of one expert fixing a less-expert client, it becomes possible to stay in this field for the long haul.
Relational therapy isn’t a cure for systemic problems, but it IS a sustainability practice and therapist burnout prevention. It provides not just a framework for client healing, but also a path toward increased therapist sustainability, purpose, and reward—helping us keep our hearts open without burning them out.
Final Thoughts: Relational Therapy as a Lifeline for Therapists
Relational therapy is more than a modality or collection of therapy techniques—it’s a lifeline. For clients, it offers the chance to experience connection and repair in ways they may never have before. For therapists, it provides a way to work that is sustainable, joyful, and aligned with our humanity.
If you’ve ever wondered how to keep loving this work, how to stay connected to your clients without losing yourself, or how to keep your practice from turning into a grind, relational therapy might be the answer. It’s not about being perfect; it’s about being present. It’s not about being professional; it’s about being personal. It’s not about being “the therapist”; it’s about being you.
If you’re ready to enliven your practice, reconnect with your values, and experience the satisfaction of truly relational work, consider joining us for clinical training.
✨ Join us for relational therapy training and discover how to make your work not just effective, but sustaining—for your clients, and for you.
Featured therapist author:
Kaitlin Kindman, LCSW, is a co-founder of Kindman & Co., is disabled, an activist, and a feminist. Her purpose is to help her clients come to believe that they are not alone, they belong, AND they inspire—they have the power to bring about change. She works with her clients to feel more connected, so that they take actions that improve their relationships and the world.
Kaitlin is deeply committed to providing socially just and anti-oppressive therapy. She really loves working with couples to improve their relationships and deepen intimacy, with other therapists and healers, as well as entrepreneurs and other business owners. Kaitlin finds true enjoyment in cuddling with animals, a just-right temperature cup of tea, feeling the sun on her face, and dancing in supermarket aisles.
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THERAPY AT KINDMAN & CO.
We are here for your diverse L.A. counseling needs. Our team of relational therapists provides lgbtqia+ affirmative therapy, couples therapy & premarital counseling, grief & loss counseling, group therapy, and more. We have specialists in trauma, women's issues, depression & anxiety, and support for creatives. For therapists and practice owners, we also provide consultation and supervision services as well as relational therapist clinical trainings! We look forward to welcoming you for therapy in Highland Park and online.