The Therapist is Also Human
- Katrina Steel

- Jan 6
- 4 min read
A Behind-the-Scenes Reflection on What I Practice - Not Just Preach
By Katrina Steel,

There’s a quiet myth that follows therapists around like a shadow. That we’re calm all the time. That we don’t get overwhelmed. That we’ve “healed” to such a degree that pain no longer touches us. That we’re perfectly boundaried, emotionally regulated, spiritually aligned. That we’ve transcended the chaos of human emotion.
While I understand the longing for that kind of steadiness, let me be honest with you:
I’m a therapist .And I’m also a human being.
I have tough days. I carry old wounds. I get caught in the very same patterns I help others untangle. I overgive. I get tired. I forget what I know. I fall into spirals. And still, I return. Because the tools I offer are not just for my clients, they are also the lifelines I lean into myself.
I Don’t Live Outside the Work. I Live In It.
Therapy is not a mask I wear from 9 to 5. It’s not a set of clever interventions or textbook techniques I apply to someone else’s life. It’s a living, breathing, real-time process that I embody daily.
When I feel dysregulated, I pause and return to my breath, not because it fixes everything instantly, but because it anchors me back into presence.
When I notice resentment creeping in, I reflect on where I may have overstepped my own boundaries, not with shame, but with honesty and care.
When my inner critic starts whispering its old, familiar lines, I meet it with compassion. I don’t banish it or shame it... I soften into it. I remind myself that healing doesn’t mean never hearing that voice again. It means changing how we relate to it.
These aren’t abstract theories to me. They’re not things I teach in isolation. They are tools I use in real relationships, in parenting, in grief, in decision-making, in moments of joy, and moments of doubt.
I’ve Been the One Crying on the Floor. I Have Burnt Out.
There have been seasons of my life where I was the one unraveling.
Where I couldn’t find the clarity, or the strength, or the softness I now hold space for in others. When my nervous system felt raw. When my thoughts turned unkind. When the ground beneath me felt uncertain and fragile.
I didn’t bypass those moments with mindset quotes or spiritual clichés. I didn’t numb them out or shame myself for “not coping.” I let myself feel. I allowed the process. I reached for the very practices I offer to others, not as a fix, but as a way of being with what was real.
I grounded. I journaled. I breathed. I cried. I reached out for help. I rested.
I let myself be human. Because that’s what this work is about, not transcendence, but tenderness. Not escaping the mess, but meeting it with awareness.
The Myth of the “Fixed” Therapist
There’s a dangerous illusion in the wellness world that if you’re holding space for others, you should have it all figured out. That if you guide, you must not stumble. That if you’ve healed, you must no longer hurt.
In truth, the best therapists I know are not those who have no wounds, but those who know how to tend to them.
My clients don’t need me to be invulnerable. They need me to be present. To be real. To hold space with reverence, not performance. To share honestly that healing isn’t linear. That rupture and repair are part of the path. That being human is messy and sacred and we don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of love.
I hold space with care not because I’ve never broken but because I know what it means to break and rise again.

Healing Is a Practice, Not a Performance
One of the most powerful things I’ve learned, both as a therapist and as a human being is this:
Healing is not a performance. It’s a practice.
It’s not about how well you “do” the work. It’s about how gently you return to it.
Not once. Not twice. But again and again.
We don’t fail when we falter. We return, not because we got it wrong, but because we are devoted to living a more conscious, kind, and connected life.
This is the work I teach. And it’s the work I do... Every single day.
You Are Not Broken ~ You’re Becoming
If you’re holding yourself to impossible standards… If you’re wondering why old wounds still visit… If you feel like you “should be past this by now”…
Let me say this gently:
You are not broken. You are not behind. You are human.
Healing is not about never struggling again.It’s about changing how you relate to the struggle. It’s about remembering that the goal is not perfection... it’s presence.
That’s what I practice. That’s what I invite you to practice, too.




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