Even Therapists Scroll and Compare

We’re not immune to it.

The quiet spiral that starts when you see another therapist’s post go viral.
Their perfectly curated website. Their sold-out workshop. Their podcast.
The mid-century office, the glowing testimonials, the effortless confidence.

And there it is—that flicker:
Maybe I’m not doing enough. Maybe I’m falling behind. Maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was.

Even therapists compare.

We work in a field that asks us to hold space, stay grounded, be relational—and also, somehow, run a business.
We’re expected to be visible, polished, informed, ethical, inspired… all at once.
And somewhere in there, the pressure creeps in:
To do more.
To show more.
To be more.

We tell our clients that growth isn’t linear, that they can take up space, that they don’t need to perform their healing.
And then we forget to offer ourselves that same permission.

Redefining Success in Private Practice

Let’s be honest—success in private practice gets sold to us in a very particular way.
A full caseload. A waitlist. Passive income. A “six-figure business.”
And if that’s the version that fits your values and capacity—beautiful.

But it’s not the only version.

Success might look like building a practice that doesn’t burn you out.
One that reflects who you are, not just what you produce.
It might look like working fewer hours so you can parent, rest, write, be well.
It might look like depth over scale. Presence over polish.

This is how I aspire to show up in my work:
Not bigger, but truer.
Not chasing more, but choosing what matters.
Not proving, but practicing.

Sometimes success is simply knowing that the work you did today mattered—quietly, privately, without applause.

You don’t have to be visible to be valuable.
You don’t have to build something big to build something meaningful.
You don’t have to prove anything to be proud of what you’ve made.

You get to decide what success means in your practice.
And you’re allowed to define it differently now than you did a year ago.

You’re allowed to build slow.
To pause.
To tend to your life while tending to others.

That counts.
That’s enough.