Several years ago, I wrote about why I became a counselor. I thought it might be interesting to revisit that, to see if my original motivations still hold.
Original answer: I’ve always been “that friend.” You know, the one you go to with all of your problems. Everyone trusted me because I was like a vault. No matter what you told me, it never went any further. I was also a very empathetic and understanding listener. I actually ENJOYED hearing other’s problems, not because I wanted to see them in pain, but because I knew that was their way of connecting with me.
Updated answer: These things are still true, but unfortunately this is mostly true with clients; I think my friendships have suffered. I have noticed that having very intense interpersonal conversations with near strangers on a daily basis has drained me somewhat, and made me less available to my own intimate friends. Sad, but true.
Original answer: So I decided to go into Computer Science…oops! Obviously this was a mistake. Only at the time, I thought it was brilliant. My immature twenty-year-old mind only thought of money, job security, and finding a husband, sort of in that order. So it was the perfect choice on all three accounts. Plus my Dad wanted me to go into that field. I thought it was a great way to finally earn his approval. What was it in hindsight? A recipe for disaster.
Updated answer: I now think my original career was an appropriate choice for me considering my developmental level and family influences. Sometimes, there are days I long to simply sit in a cubicle by myself trying to puzzle out why the software won’t work. Overall, however, I certainly don’t regret my career change. In fact, I probably should have switched about 10 years earlier.
Original answer: So I decided to follow my passion-helping people. Fast-forward eight years, and here I am today. My job isn’t always easy, but it’s always interesting. I never wake up in the morning and dread going in. I love the fact that I never really know on any given day what will happen. So far, no matter how much experience I gain, there is always a new skill to learn, a new way to grow, or a new problem to tackle. Each day, my clients surprise, and therefore challenge, me all of the time.
Updated answer: I still feel this way about my job! Always interesting, always challenging, sometimes exhausting. I love the fact that I never really quite know what is going to happen on any given day. This keeps me motivated!
Original answer: The work is also extremely rewarding. My clients let me into the most secret, painful parts of their lives. Often, I am the only one that knows these parts. The trust that my clients place in me amazes me. Often, they feel relieved just to have “gotten something off my chest” with an objective person listening in a non-judgmental manner.
Updated answer: I still feel the same way, although I have discovered over the years that clients are not quite as open as I originally thought they were for the following reasons:
- It can take time to build trust with certain types of clients
- Clients sometimes lie to meet their own needs
- Clients don’t always think they have a problem (i.e. their spouse sends them)
Original answer: Anyway, back to the rewards. Sometimes, clients come in with abuse stories so awful I have a hard time believing it actually happened. I mean, here they are sitting in front of me and acting “normal.” The resilience of people is quite inspirational. When I am able to help them live even healthier lives I feel blessed.
Updated answer: My client base has shifted, and so I no longer see the amount of abuse and trauma that I used to. I have raised my rates over the years, and so now I work with a different demographic where the rampant issues tend to be personality disorders such as narcissism rather than trauma. In addition, I have developed a niche as a couples therapist; therefore when I do see individuals the conversations tend to be centered around relationship issues. So, instead of being amazed at their resilience, instead I am worried about why they stay in dysfunctional relationships as long as they do.
Original answer: The best feeling, however, comes when a client returns and tells me specifically how my intervention was helpful. I have had clients tell me they can hear my voice when they feel anxious or upset. They can hear me tell them what to do, and they do it, and it works. I have just improved someone’s life. There is no better feeling than that.
Updated answer: I still feel that my best payment for the work I do isn’t monetary: it’s when people tell me that their relationship is getting better, or that they feel better. Although clients don’t usually tell me they “hear my voice,” I can see my influence in how they are changing their thinking patterns. As I reflect on this, I realize that as I have become more experienced, I have done a better job at getting clients to internalize the changes we discuss in counseling.
Original answer: So, if you were considering a career in counseling I would ask you to get ready for some intense, emotional conversations with complete strangers. You will form the most intimate bonds with people you may never see again. You will hold the hands of the emotionally troubled without touching them. You have to be OK with that. Sometimes you don’t know what became of the client. You have to be OK with that, too.
Updated answer: I still agree; although if I could I would tell my novice-counselor self not to get as involved emotionally. I would caution that sometimes people lie to get what they want, and to consider that when conceptualizing a case. I would also caution myself to be more aware of how I may be putting up walls in my own personal relationships as a way of preserving emotional energy.
Original answer: Your life will change, and you have to be ready. This includes being able to set appropriate boundaries and prevent burnout.
Updated answer: Great advice! Guard against burnout early, and you will be able to counsel effectively for a long time!
Thank you for this opportunity to reflect upon my career!
Yours in the Joy of Knowledge,
Barbara LoFrisco
