Why don't therapists give advice?

What to expect in therapy

"Just tell me what to do."

It's something I often find my clients saying without actually - you know - saying. Sometimes it's a look in their eye, as they long for me to be the one to save them from the uncomfortable silence. Sometimes it's a subtle frustration or defeated laugh, as I toss the ball back to their court. And, of course, there are the clients that just lay everything out in front of me to ask: "So now what?"

You might be surprised to know that as therapists, one of the very first things we learn in school is: We don't give advice.

For one, our client's decisions are not actually ours to make. Telling a client how we think they should live - no matter how much education or experience we may have - violates their fundamental right in life to live and think on their own terms. When clients are willing to give this up and are quick to defer their judgment or opinions to someone else, we have to ask, what's going on that's preventing them from sitting in their own agency?

Additionally, the truth is there are usually a million and one different ways you could approach any given situation - all of which will simply lead down different roads. There's no "instruction manual" we have access to that you don't. Even if there was, yours would be completely different than the next person who walks through our door! Our job is to help you explore the merits of various approaches in order to take the action that is most aligned with you own values and needs - each of which is unique to the next person's.

Finally, by telling clients what to do and how to do it, we're robbing them of the opportunity to learn through experience themselves. A former supervisor once put it this way:

Imagine you're a parent. You can tell your 6-year-old to put on a jacket a hundred times, but they'll never actually do it until they go outside, freeze their toes off, and live through the consequence of being stuck in bed sick for a week. Even if they do mindlessly follow orders, they won't learn in a way that allows them to meaningfully apply experience on their own when they really need. So when we try to "save" our clients from pain, hardship, and the discomfort of learning things for themselves, we actually do them a great disservice. Pain is part of learning, not to mention part of being alive.

Now, of course, telling a client whether or not they should stay in a relationship, quit their job, or confront a friend is different than providing clients with relevant psychological education, tools, and techniques (think: boundaries, breathing exercises, reflective listening skills). Yet because these very tools are also often many people's first introduction to therapy through today's TikTok videos, Instagram influencers, and online courses that promise results, they can also unintentionally teeter on communicating that there is some system or magic bullet your coach or therapist will be able to provide. These interventions are important, they are also usually still just the tip of the iceberg of what we do in therapy.

And as my own therapist often reminds me: "Gurus are dangerous."

Unfortunately I don't know that we don't necessarily do a great job about educating people about what to expect in therapy. While tactical and directive approaches can be incredibly beneficial, by and large research shows that the most important part of therapy for many people is simply your relationship with your therapist. Do you feel safe enough to look at and spend time with parts that hurt most without worrying about feeling judged? Do you feel supported enough to be able to fully let go of the weight you've been holding up to experiment with something new? Can you talk to your therapist about how you feel about them and what you feel like you need?

As a society we're hungry for answers and quick fixes. But while we're chasing more "solutions," we don't notice that what we're actually most starved of are real, deep, connected relationships. In the words of my current supervisor - for immediate relief, you can take a painkiller. But to heal the broken bone, you need to give yourself the type of time, space and support that allows your own body to do what it already knows how to do. The most important role of your therapist is to provide the type of connection and relationship that ultimately allows you to heal yourself.