Imagine taking a luxurious catnap on a freshly ironed piece of clothing— a cliché cardigan, if you may, only to wake up and realize that while your inner world is rich, your bank account might be echoing with emptiness.
Sounds familiar, eh?
Therapists are the professional listeners, emotional shock absorbers, and mind untanglers (or am I just making it sound cool?)— yet behind the calm nods and knowing silences, many are wrestling with a different kind of tension: the complex financial realities. Despite years of training, an overflow of compassion, and the daily task of stitching up the frayed edges of others’ lives, therapist’s own economics often looks less like stability and more like an unpaid internship in emotional labor.
Take 1: The Paradox of Professional Care
Many therapists don’t just step into this work- they are shaped by it. As children, they learned to read the room before they knew how to read, to soothe others before they understood their own needs. Caring became second nature, but so did disappearing.
This early act of self-abnegation, much like the repression of instinctual desires, sets the stage for a career marked by both immense empathy and profound self-neglect. The financial undervaluation of their labor mirrors the split between the idealized self & the needy other.
In offering care so freely (literally), many therapists unknowingly re-enact a familiar dynamics- an existence where tending to the Other was essential, as the survival of the child depended on them. The stakes, interestingly, shifts from physical survival to psychic survival in these enacted dyads.
Take 2: When Expertise Meets Economic Reality
The economic landscape for therapists is riddled with contradictions- the work is sacred, yet undervalued; necessary, yet often underpaid; built on deep care, yet leaving many struggling to care for themselves.
Generational narratives of sacrifice whisper that passion should be enough, while the realities of rent, bills, and burnout tell a different story. Further, the shushh-ness around discussing money feels as taboo as admitting personal vulnerability, as if these ideas stand opposing the archetype of the work.
And then, there’s the ache of never feeling ‘good enough’—the quiet, relentless pull to train more, learn more, invest more in becoming the therapist they believe the patients deserve. They pour into countless trainings, supervision, and therapeutic spaces, not just out of professional duty, but from a relentless hunger to prove— to the self, to the field, to some unseen authority, that we are enough.
Alas, this is not just a professional dilemma, but an internalised structure— an unconscious contract where value is tethered to sacrifice. The superego, steeped in ideals of selflessness, wages war against the id’s fundamental need for security & pleasure, leaving the ego to negotiate a compromise that rarely satisfies either. In this dynamic, earning feels like taking, and taking is being greedy, being excessive.
Take 3: Breaking the Silence
Let’s face it— just as loneliness creeps in when we deny our own need for connection (remember the newsletter last month?!! Remember??- NOD!)…
yeah, so just as loneliness creeps in when we deny our own need for connection, financial deprivation sets in when we neglect our worth. Therapists often bear the double burden of emotional labor and economic strain, all while upholding an archetype of invincibility. I mean, seriously?!
In the spirit of psychoanalytic inquiry, we must ask: How do these economic pressures shape the very identities of therapists? And if care was no longer tied to sacrifice, would it threaten the very structure upon which many therapists have built their sense of ‘good enough-ness’?
P.S. If you’re a therapist reading this, consider this a gentle reminder: you put in a lot in your work & your expertise is invaluable, but so is your well-being, both emotional and financial. It’s time to rewrite the internal narrative of deprivation.
Recognising the fiscal challenges is not a confession of inadequacy but a needful step towards integrating the repressed parts of oneself. Therapists must dare to confront the economic realities, challenging the old narratives of self-denial that no longer serve them. Only then can one reclaim not just the financial stability, but the full spectrum of one’s being.
P.P.S. Money is never about just money…
