A personal note from the founder on finding a good fit in therapy
You’ve probably heard the phrase “finding a good fit for your needs” when it comes to therapy. It’s used often, but rarely explained in a way that feels clear or human.
On the clinical side, “a good fit” is something therapists are trained to think about carefully. We’re taught to consider whether we can truly meet someone where they are—their emotional needs, their goals, their experiences—and whether we have the capacity to support them in a meaningful way. At its core, it’s about responsibility: being honest about when we can help, and when we might not be the right person to do so.
But from your side, the experience of “finding a good fit” may sound similar, but feel very different.
It can feel uncertain, vulnerable, and sometimes even discouraging. You’re being asked to open up parts of yourself that aren’t easily measured or explained. Unlike other areas of healthcare, there’s no imaging scan or blood test that captures what you’re truly feeling, thinking, or sensing. Instead, you’re trusting someone to attune to you and understand your inner world, which takes courage.
Because of that, “a good fit” isn’t just about credentials. It’s about whether you feel seen (even when you want to hide), whether you feel safe enough to be honest (even when you’d rather not), and whether, over time, you begin to trust that this person can sit with you in the complexity of your experience without judgment or expectation that you be anything other than who you are.
And it’s okay if finding that “fit” takes time.
Part of our role is to make that process clearer and more supportive—not more confusing. If something doesn’t feel right, that matters. If something does, that matters too.
A “good fit” isn’t a perfect science; it’s a relationship. Like any meaningful relationship, it deserves to be approached with curiosity, patience, and care.
It can also help to have a sense of what you’re hoping for—what you’d like to understand, change, or work toward in therapy. Below are a few questions you might consider as you continue with this process.
What am I drawn to, and what helps me feel supported?
What qualities help me feel understood (for example: warmth, directness, humor, curiosity, steadiness)?
What has shaped my sense of safety and trust in relationships?
How might aspects of identity (such as gender, culture, or lived experience) shape who I feel most comfortable opening up to?
If I’ve been in therapy before, what felt helpful or meaningful? What didn’t feel like the right fit?
What has made it difficult for me to trust someone in the past, and how might that show up again in a therapeutic relationship?
How do I tend to experience myself in relationship and in the process of therapy?
When I imagine being in a room with a therapist, what do I hope they notice about me that I struggle to notice in myself?
How do I tend to respond when someone is emotionally present with me (for example, do I lean in, pull back, become guarded, or something else)?
Do I prefer more space to arrive at my own insights, or more guidance and reflection from the other person?
There is no perfect way to answer these questions. They’re simply meant to help you stay close to your own experience as you move through the process of finding someone to work with.
If you find yourself also wondering how different kinds of therapy shape the experience of being in the room, the next piece explores that in more depth.
