Finding Growth in Disappointment

As therapists, we often hold ourselves to impossible standards. We aim to be a safe space, a guide, and a mirror for our clients. But in the process, we can forget one essential truth: we’re human too.

There comes a moment in every therapist’s career where the reality of our humanness confronts us—sometimes sharply. Perhaps we say the wrong thing or fail to recognize a client’s deeper need in a session. We feel the weight of their disappointment. And maybe worse, we feel the weight of our own.

It’s painful to know that we have, at times, caused harm or fallen short, even unintentionally. Therapy requires vulnerability, and in those moments of imperfection, our clients have every right to feel let down. But what happens next—how we show up in the aftermath—defines not only our growth but also the healing potential of the relationship.

The Courage to Make Mistakes

Being a therapist means walking a line between what we know and what we’re still learning. This work demands that we sit with uncertainty, sometimes stumbling as we try to balance intuition, skill, and care. Mistakes are inevitable, and as much as we’d like to shield our clients from them, these moments often illuminate something deeper.

Our reactions to these moments matter just as much as the missteps themselves. When we approach the rupture with curiosity instead of defensiveness—when we lean into the pain of disappointing someone instead of retreating—we open the door to repair.

Repair teaches clients that relationships, even therapeutic ones, can survive imperfection. And it teaches us that being human in the room doesn’t have to be a failure; it can be an opportunity for connection and trust.

When Repair Isn’t Possible

But not every rupture can be repaired. Sometimes a client isn’t ready or able to engage in that process, and at other times, it’s the therapist who falls short of what’s needed in the moment. The reasons may vary—fear, shame, mistrust, or even deeper wounds activated by the therapeutic relationship.

In the most difficult cases, emotions can escalate to a point where safety is compromised. A client may respond with verbal hostility, projecting their pain outward in a way that feels overwhelming or even aggressive. As therapists, we want to hold space for their emotions, but there are limits to what we can hold.

When repair feels impossible, we’re left with a painful truth: sometimes, the best we can do is acknowledge the hurt, stay grounded in our own humanity, and protect the integrity of the space. This might mean taking responsibility for our role in the rupture while also setting boundaries to maintain safety for both the client and ourselves.

It’s heartbreaking to know that some therapeutic relationships end without resolution. We carry the weight of those moments—the “what ifs,” the questions of how we could have done better. But even in those experiences, there is something to learn.

Disappointment as a Mirror

Often, the disappointment we feel toward ourselves reflects something important about our own story. Why does it feel unbearable to know we’ve hurt someone, even unintentionally? Why do we cling to the idea of being perfect, even as we remind clients that perfection doesn’t exist?

When we pause to reflect, we may notice echoes of past experiences—of relationships where mistakes weren’t safe to make, where there was no room for repair. In exploring these patterns, we don’t just grow as therapists; we grow as people.

Disappointment, as uncomfortable as it is, becomes a mirror. It shows us where we need to offer ourselves compassion and where we need to allow for more grace, not only in our relationships with clients but in our relationships with ourselves.

What We Model Matters

Clients don’t need a perfect therapist. They need one who is honest, compassionate, and willing to do the work alongside them. By showing up after a mistake—by acknowledging it, learning from it, and repairing the relationship when possible—we model what it means to navigate relationships with courage and accountability.

And when repair isn’t possible, we model something just as important: how to hold the complexity of imperfection and loss with grace. We demonstrate that while some relationships may end without resolution, they are still meaningful, still worthy of reflection and care.

The Beauty in Being Human

We can’t avoid our humanness as therapists, nor should we try. The process of learning and growing within the therapeutic relationship isn’t a flaw in the work; it is the work.

So, when we disappoint a client or ourselves, we have a choice. We can stay in the discomfort, explore what it means, and use it as a path to deeper understanding. That’s not failure—that’s growth.

In the end, therapy is not about being perfect. It’s about being real. And being real, even when it’s messy or unresolved, is the foundation of trust, healing, and connection.

Mistakes will happen. Disappointment will come. But so will opportunities to repair, rebuild, and grow—together when we can, and separately when we must.

Embracing Shadows, Illuminating Hope,
Chelsey Fjeldheim, LCSW
Empowering Souls on the Path of Healing

Copyright © 2025 Chelsey Fjeldheim, Courage Speaks Counseling