A lot of people assume counselling is only for those who are already comfortable talking about their feelings.
In my experience, some of the people who need therapy the most are the least likely to open up. They are the high performers, the decision-makers, the “go-to” people everyone relies on.
If you’ve built a life around independence, competence, and resilience, you might recognise some of this:
- Smiling through the exhaustion because “others have it harder.”
- Feeling strangely flat, even when you’ve ticked every box you set out to achieve.
- Knowing something’s not right, but struggling to find the words for it.
I know this world because I lived it for decades. My career in business and finance gave me a front-row seat to both the rewards and the costs of high performance. From the outside, everything can look seamless. Inside, stress quietly builds, relationships become strained, and a quiet question starts to creep in: Is this all there is?
Retraining as a therapist wasn’t a sudden leap. It was the result of years of seeing how success and struggle so often sit side by side, and how rarely people in demanding roles have a safe, private space to talk about it. I wanted to be there for the moment when someone realises that keeping everything in doesn’t make it go away.
In my counselling practice, there’s no pressure to “have it all together.” You don’t need the perfect words or even a clear idea of what’s wrong. We slow things down, notice what’s been pushed aside, and explore what’s really going on without judgement and without rushing the process.
Therapy isn’t about fixing what’s broken. It’s about creating a space where what’s hidden can be seen, understood, and worked with, even if you’re not used to talking about your feelings at all.