WRITTEN BY
Justin La Rose, RP, M.Psy is a Registered Psychotherapist (RP, M.Psy) and Clinical Director of The OCD Clinic in Toronto. He has worked in mental health for more than 25 years and has spent over a decade in clinical practice, specializing in treating OCD with Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP).
Clinical examples in this article are composites. Any identifying client details have been changed and anonymized to protect confidentiality.
- 01Therapy is not done to you - you're an active participant, not a passenger
- 02Train your therapist - they only know what you tell them; feedback is part of the work
- 03Everything in therapy is a microcosm - how you show up in the room is how you show up everywhere
- 04Share your anger and frustration - including at your therapist; that's where the real work often lives
- 05The goal is change, not just insight
Most people walk into therapy with the wrong expectations. They think therapy is something done to them - like taking your car to a mechanic. You describe the problem, the expert fixes it, you drive away. That's not how this works. And if you go in with that mindset, you're going to be disappointed.
These are the four things I wish every person knew before their first session. Not the reassuring, encouraging version you'll find in a wellness blog - the honest one that might actually change how therapy goes for you.
The Active Participant Model
#1: Therapy Is Not Done to You
Here's a number worth sitting with. Research on therapy outcomes suggests that the therapist's direct contribution to what actually changes is somewhere in the range of 8-12% of variance. Let that land. The person you're paying, the one with the degree and the framework, is responsible for somewhere between one-tenth and one-eighth of whether things improve.
This is not a knock on therapists. It's a reframe of what therapy actually is. Not a procedure. A collaboration. The majority of change comes from factors outside the room - your life circumstances, your relationships, your willingness to carry what you learn into your actual existence.
Your therapist provides structure, framework, challenge, and support. They create conditions for change. But you have to apply the insights. You have to practice the skills. You have to show up between sessions - not just in them.
If you go in expecting to be fixed, you'll be frustrated. If you go in expecting to work, you'll move. The mindset with which you enter the room is not incidental - it's probably the most important variable in the whole equation.
This also means something uncomfortable: if therapy isn't working, you share responsibility for that. Not blame - responsibility. It means you have agency. And that's actually good news.
#2: Train Your Therapist
This sounds strange. Train your therapist? But here's the reality: your therapist can only know what you tell them. They are not psychic. They are reading your cues - what you bring up, how you talk about things, what you avoid, how you respond when they say something that doesn't land.
If something isn't working - if a frame doesn't fit, if a technique feels wrong for you, if a session consistently feels like it's going in the wrong direction - they need you to say so. Most clients sit in sessions that aren't landing and say nothing. They disagree internally and smile and nod. They leave feeling vaguely dissatisfied but assume this is just what therapy feels like.
This is a problem, because therapy - done right - is one of the very few relationships in a person's life where honest feedback is not just acceptable. It's essential. A good therapist will actively invite it. They will ask. They will create openings. But you have to take them.
You are the expert on your own internal experience. Your therapist is the expert on process and framework. You need each other's expertise. When you withhold feedback, you are degrading the quality of the collaboration - and by extension, the quality of what you get out of it.
"That interpretation doesn't quite fit how I experience it." "I felt like we got off track today." "I left last session feeling like nothing happened." These are useful things to say. They don't make you a difficult client. They make you a good one. See also: what to expect in your first therapy consultation.
#3: Everything in Therapy Is a Microcosm
The way you show up in the therapy room is the way you show up everywhere. This is one of the most powerful and least discussed truths about how therapy works - and it's almost never explained before people start.
If you people-please - agreeing to avoid conflict, softening difficult truths, making yourself smaller to preserve harmony - you will do it with your therapist too. You'll nod when you disagree. You'll say "that makes sense" when it doesn't. You'll protect the therapist from your disappointment.
If you tend to withdraw when things get uncomfortable or vulnerable, you'll probably do it in the therapy room too. Sessions will stay at a certain depth and never go further. You'll talk about things without actually touching them.
None of this is a flaw. It is incredibly useful information - if you notice it. A therapist who is paying attention can see these patterns playing out in real time, right in front of them. What happens between you and your therapist is a miniature version of what happens everywhere else in your relational life.
This is why the relationship itself is often the medium of change - not just the vehicle for conversations about problems that exist elsewhere. The room is a laboratory. What shows up there is real.
#4: Share Your Anger and Frustration
This is the hardest one. And probably the most important.
When you feel frustrated at your therapist, the temptation - the nearly universal temptation - is to say nothing. They're trying to help you. Feeling angry at them seems ungrateful. Saying it out loud seems like it would damage the relationship, maybe end it. You tell yourself to let it go.
The opposite is true.
I have my own therapy story here. At one point I was working with a therapist and feeling genuinely annoyed - not at anything dramatic, just a growing sense that sessions felt circular. We were covering the same ground. I could predict where each session would go. For three or four sessions I sat on it. I told myself I was probably just resistant. Maybe this was the work - sitting with the discomfort.
Eventually I said it: "I'm frustrated. I feel like we're going in circles and I'm not sure we're getting anywhere."
The conversation that followed was the most productive of the entire time we worked together. Not because my therapist immediately fixed everything - but because naming the frustration broke through something. The pattern I'd been performing (staying comfortable, avoiding conflict, protecting the other person from my difficult feelings) had been playing out in the room the whole time.
Anger in therapy is data. Frustration is data. Disappointment is data. What you feel in the room - including what you feel toward your therapist - is part of the material. It is not a distraction from the work. It is often the most direct route into the work.
If you're not sure when frustration becomes a signal that the fit is actually wrong, read more about when it's time to move on. And if you're wondering how long all of this is supposed to take, see our guide on how long therapy takes.
Book a free 20-minute consultation. No pressure, no commitment - just a conversation about what you're experiencing.
Book Free Consultation →Key Takeaway: The Mindset Shift That Changes Everything
If there is one frame that will make therapy more effective, it is this: show up prepared to participate, not to be fixed. Everything else follows from that shift.