Therapy as a Season of Support (Not a Lifelong Commitment)
One of the most common questions I get at the start of therapy is: “How long is this going to take?”
There’s a pretty persistent idea that starting therapy means you’ll be on a couch talking about your childhood every week for the rest of your life. While long-term therapy can be meaningful and valuable, the work I do doesn’t always look like that. I like to practice therapy as a targeted season of support: a focused time to gather the tools, regulation skills, and insights you need to navigate life’s challenges with greater ease.
For those who are motivated to do the work, therapy is a bridge that leads you back to your most authentic, connected self. Here’s a hypothetical example of how we might navigate that season together:
Phase 1: Building a Resilient Foundation
Dave feels like something is wrong beneath the surface, but he’s not quite sure what. He works a physically demanding job, surfs most mornings, and prides himself on being low-maintenance. He doesn’t think he has anxiety, but he also hasn’t slept through the night in years.
He feels calm in the ocean. Everywhere else, his baseline is tension. His jaw is clenched most of the day. His shoulders live up around his ears. When someone texts him “Hey, what are you doing later?”, his stomach drops. Before social plans, he has two drinks just to feel normal. After social plans, he replays everything he said and wonders if he came off weird.
What this looks like in practice:
Before we dive into the deep stuff, we start with the "here and now." Early sessions aren’t about dissecting Dave’s childhood. They’re about noticing that his breath gets shallow when he talks about work, that his chest tightens when he describes group settings, and that what he calls “overthinking” is actually his nervous system stuck on high alert.
With this focus, we can make the day to day feel more manageable by exploring a variety of coping skills tailored to Dave’s unique nervous system. This includes:
Nervous System Regulation: Learning how to move out of fight, flight, and freeze states and back into a state of flexibility and connection.
Cognitive Tools: Identifying the thought patterns and narratives that keep Dave stuck.
Somatic Skills: Noticing how his body holds onto stress and learning how to release that tension physically.
The goal here is to make sure Dave feels like he has a stronger, more resilient foundation to stand on before we look at the bigger picture. Within the first month or two, some things shift. Dave sleeps better. He stops bailing on plans at the last minute. He realizes he can feel anxious without immediately numbing it or pushing through it. Life no longer feels like a constant low-grade emergency.
Phase 2: Aligning With Your Values
Once daily life feels more manageable, the work naturally turns toward values. This is where we look honestly at how someone’s life aligns with what actually matters to them, and where it doesn’t.
What this looks like in practice:
Now a month or two into therapy, Dave starts noticing patterns.
He dates people he doesn’t really like because it feels easier than being alone or, even scarier, being seen by someone he actually cares about. He keeps friendships surface-level so he doesn’t have to explain himself. He avoids talking about parts of his identity that feel complicated, because it’s safer not to open that door. What if someone rejects him for being weak, weird, or intense? His whole life from middle school onward taught him that it was a bad idea to stand out, and the few memories he has of truly expressing his emotions are not pleasant.
But it also doesn’t feel good to live a life of hiding or faking it. This is the time in therapy when I do focused work on a client’s values. What gives Dave a sense of meaning? Does he feel drawn to conformity, or uniqueness? Perceived status, or true belonging?
Through values work, Dave identifies that freedom and authenticity matter more to him than approval. That realization makes certain things harder before they get easier. He starts saying no when he means it. He has a few uncomfortable conversations instead of ghosting. He stops pretending to be unfazed when he’s not. He tests out expressing his actual feelings to friends and family, and has the tools to deal with it if he feels rejected or ignored.
As a result, some relationships fall away. Others get stronger. Dave feels less like he’s performing and more like he’s actually living.
Phase 3: Processing the Deeper Wounds With EMDR
Now we have the coping tools to safely navigate deeper emotions, and we’ve identified the values that define the purpose of therapy– in Dave’s case, to recover his sense of freedom and authenticity. But how can we address past pain that festered into anxiety, shame, avoidance, or disconnection in the first place?
I often use EMDR to address experiences and core beliefs that continue to create or reinforce issues in our lives, even if we’ve “worked through it” or “moved on” on a conscious level. Whether we like it or not, our brains and bodies will still recreate old experiences or beliefs on autopilot until we handle that pain differently.
But this work isn’t about endlessly talking through the past. Nor is it about thinking “just get over it.” It’s about reducing the emotional charge of experiences that still have a grip on the present. If you’re curious about what EMDR actually looks like in a session and how it works beyond the buzzwords, I go into more detail in this post on EMDR therapy.
What this looks like in practice:
For Dave, the same themes keep surfacing: feeling different, feeling watched, feeling like he has to stay guarded or risk rejection. He has searing memories of being bullied growing up. But he’s an adult now, he doesn’t want to feel like a “victim,” and if you asked him, he wouldn’t say “I live a totally inauthentic life because of what happened when I was 12.” That feels way too dramatic to him, especially because he thinks rationally that the others who picked on him were also just kids, and some of them even apologized to him for their behavior a few years later.
This adult level understanding of his past makes logical sense, but it doesn’t help Dave feel better. His mind and body are still wired to protect him from these experiences, and no amount of saying “it’s fine now” is going to change that.
But EMDR might help him change that. Together, we reprocess those memories and use the skills we developed from our very first therapy sessions to help Dave tolerate the distress he feels about being vulnerable. He notices his body tension and uses grounding techniques to ease the panic. He’s aware of the negative thoughts that flood his mind but doesn’t feel quite as hopeless as before. With repetition, his past experiences actually feel like distant memories, not a dark cloud following him around.
Over time, Dave notices more changes that actually matter in real life. He stops rehearsing conversations in advance. He doesn’t need substances to tolerate being around people. Social anxiety no longer decides his schedule. And if a new friend or potential date doesn’t like him, he doesn’t try to hide his whole personality anymore. He has the capacity to still be himself, and to connect with others who have the same values that he does.
Phase 4: Connection and Completion
The goal of therapy isn’t dependence. It’s self-trust.
Around the six-month mark, Dave isn’t coming in with crises anymore. He knows how to regulate his nervous system when stress spikes. He recognizes when he’s slipping into old avoidance patterns and can course-correct. He’s living in a way that feels more honest, even when it’s uncomfortable.
At this point, therapy naturally winds down. Sessions space out. The focus shifts from support to autonomy. Therapy ends not because everything in his life is perfect, but because Dave trusts himself to handle what comes next.
A Note on Timeframes and Fit
Dave’s story is just one example. Therapy timelines aren’t guarantees, and not everyone comes in with the same goals or challenges. Some clients are working through substance use, identity exploration, or long-standing social anxiety. Others are navigating relationship patterns, burnout, or major life transitions. Some people feel ready to wrap up in a few months. Others benefit from a longer season of support.
The common thread is intention. Therapy works best when there’s a shared understanding of what we’re working toward and why. Your season of support might not look like anyone else’s, but you’ll know where you’re going, and you’ll truly trust yourself to know when to end.
If you’re considering therapy and this approach resonates with you, I work with adults who want focused, goal-oriented support to make real changes. I specialize in anxiety and social anxiety, identity exploration, and relationship work using EMDR and values-based approaches. If you’re in Pacifica or the greater San Francisco Bay Area, or anywhere in California via telehealth, you can learn more about working with me here.
