Who Defines the Pace of Healing?
A question I find myself returning to, again and again, is this:
Who defines the pace of healing?
In many structured systems—insurance plans, workplace programs, community services—the time offered for therapy is often limited. Four sessions. Maybe six. And the expectation is that something meaningful should happen within that timeframe. But the deeper work of therapy doesn’t usually unfold according to a fixed schedule.
Therapy happens in the integration—the weaving together of clinical skill, therapeutic presence, and time. It’s in the space where someone feels safe enough to be witnessed. Where the nervous system can begin to settle. Where new ways of thinking and being are explored and embodied, gently, session by session, and that takes time.
The work we do in the room is supported by evidence, yes. But there is also something far less measurable: the quality of attunement, the strength of the relationship, the sense of safety and dignity that grows over time. These are not secondary to the process—they are the process.
As a psychotherapist, I’m always trying to find that balance—between honouring what someone can access, and offering the depth of care they deserve. I want therapy to be available and sustainable, and I also want to name this truth: meaningful change takes presence and patience, not pressure.
And I speak from experience, too. I pay out of pocket for my own therapy. It’s not always easy—but the value I receive in that space is immeasurable. My therapist brings knowledge, yes—but also something more: her steady presence, her capacity to sit with me without needing to move too quickly. That space allows for integration, for insight, for something to settle in a way that lasts.
So this question stays with me:
Who defines the pace?
Because the person sitting across from me—the one bringing their story, their truth, their effort into the room—they’re the only one who truly can.
In a culture often driven by efficiency and outcome, therapy asks something different of us: to slow down, to listen more deeply, and to honour the unfolding of healing as an emergent, relational process—not a prescribed endpoint.