Why and When to Engage in Therapy: A January Reflection

I'm noticing something familiar happening right now. It's early January, and my inbox is full. Social media is saturated with "new year, new you" messaging. Everywhere you look, there's an implicit (or explicit) suggestion that transformation should be underway and for many, therapy sits at the top of that aspirational list.

I want to pause here with you for a moment.

Not to discourage anyone from starting therapy. Not to suggest that January isn't a valid time to begin. But to invite a different kind of reflection. One that centers your reasons, your readiness, and your actual needs rather than the cultural momentum that can make therapy feel like the "in thing to do."

Because here's what I've observed: therapy can be profoundly helpful. It can also feel hollow, overwhelming, or frustrating when the timing or motivation isn't quite right. And distinguishing between those possibilities requires honest self-inquiry (the kind that gets harder when we're swept up in collective urgency).

The Pressure We're Not Always Naming

There's a particular flavour of pressure that arrives each January. It's well-intentioned and rooted in genuine efforts to destigmatize mental health support and normalize help-seeking. But it can also create an unspoken expectation: everyone should be in therapy, and if you're not, you're somehow falling behind.

I see this show up in my work regularly. People book consultations feeling a vague sense that they should be there, that something must be wrong if they're not actively "working on themselves" in a formal therapeutic context. Sometimes they're responding to a partner's suggestion, or a friend's enthusiastic recommendation, or the cumulative message from their social feeds that therapy is the universal answer.

And sometimes (not always, but sometimes) what they actually need is permission to not start therapy right now. Or to recognize that their hesitation isn't resistance; it's wisdom.

What Therapy Actually Is (And Isn't)

Before we talk about when therapy might be worth engaging, I think it helps to clarify what we're actually talking about.

Therapy is not:

• A quick fix for immediate relief

• A space where someone tells you what to do

• A replacement for community, friendship, or systemic change

• A sign that you're broken or fundamentally flawed

• A moral obligation or measure of self-awareness

Therapy is:

• A collaborative relationship focused on understanding patterns, building skills, and processing experiences

• A structured space to explore thoughts and feelings with someone trained to hold complexity

• Often gradual, non-linear work that unfolds over time

• Most effective when you're choosing it for yourself, not responding to external pressure

• One tool among many for supporting your wellbeing

This distinction matters because mismatched expectations are one of the most common reasons people leave therapy feeling disappointed or unhelped. If you're entering with the hope that someone will fix you quickly, or tell you exactly what to do, or make difficult feelings disappear without discomfort, you're setting both yourself and your therapist up for frustration.

When Therapy Often Works Well

Through my practice, I've noticed certain conditions that tend to make therapy feel genuinely useful rather than obligatory or stagnant. You might consider therapy when:

You're curious, not just desperate. There's a difference between "I want to understand why I keep repeating this pattern" and "I need someone to make this stop immediately." Both are valid feelings, but the first creates more space for the kind of exploration therapy requires.

You have some emotional bandwidth. If you're currently in survival mode, such as managing a crisis, barely keeping your head above water with basic needs, adding therapy to your plate might create more overwhelm than support. Sometimes, the most responsible thing is to wait until you have a bit more capacity.

You're open to discomfort in service of growth. Effective therapy isn't always comfortable. It asks you to look at things you might prefer to avoid, sit with difficult feelings, and challenge familiar ways of thinking. If you're seeking only validation or reassurance right now, that's important information about what you actually need (and therapy might not be it yet).

You can practice between sessions. Therapy isn't just what happens in the room. The integration work, such as trying new approaches, noticing patterns in real time, and applying insights to your daily life, is where change actually solidifies. If you don't have space for that right now, the benefits may feel limited.

The decision feels like yours. This is perhaps the most important one. Therapy works best when you're choosing it for yourself, even if external circumstances prompted the consideration. There's a meaningful difference between "my partner thinks I should go" and "my partner's concern helped me realize I want to explore this."

Common Reasons People Find Therapy Helpful

When the timing and motivation align, here's what I often witness:

Building new coping tools. Not because your current ones are "wrong," but because expanding your repertoire gives you more options when life feels hard.

Processing old experiences safely. Having a structured space to work through past pain, especially with someone trained in trauma-informed approaches, can reduce the grip those experiences hold on your present.

Shifting unhelpful patterns. Those familiar cycles that keep showing up in your relationships, your work, your self-talk - therapy can help you understand their origins and develop alternatives.

Improving relationships. Not by changing others, but by becoming more aware of your own responses, needs, and communication patterns.

Growing self-compassion. Learning to treat yourself with the same kindness you'd offer someone you care about, which is harder than it sounds and genuinely transformative when it starts to shift.

These aren't magical outcomes. They're the result of consistent, collaborative effort over time. And they're most accessible when you're genuinely ready to engage with the process, not just checking a box on your self-improvement list.

When Waiting Might Be Wiser

I want to be clear about something: choosing not to start therapy right now (or to pause if you're already in it)ncan be an act of self-awareness rather than avoidance.

You might consider waiting if:

• You're doing this primarily because someone else thinks you should

• You're hoping for immediate fixes to complex situations

• Your basic needs (housing, food security, safety) aren't currently stable

• You're in active crisis and need more intensive support than weekly therapy provides

• You haven't found a therapist who feels like a good fit (and forcing it could do more harm than good)

• You're feeling emotionally tapped out, and adding one more thing feels genuinely overwhelming

• You're unclear what you'd actually want to work on, and that uncertainty feels stressful rather than curious

None of these mean you're failing at self-care. They mean you're paying attention to what you actually need right now, which is its own form of wisdom.

A Different Kind of January Question

So instead of asking "Should I start therapy this year?", which carries all that loaded "should" energy, what if you asked:

"Am I genuinely curious about what therapy might offer me right now?"

"Do I have some capacity (emotional, logistical, financial) to engage meaningfully?"

"Is this choice mine, or am I responding to pressure I haven't fully examined?"

"What am I actually hoping will be different, and does therapy align with that hope?"

These questions don't have objectively right answers. But they create space for the kind of honest reflection that makes therapy more likely to actually help when you do choose it.

If You're Still Unsure

That's completely fine. You don't have to decide right now. You can:

• Do some research on different therapy modalities to see what resonates

• Reflect on what you'd want to focus on if you did start

• Talk to people you trust about their experiences (while remembering yours will be unique)

• Explore other forms of support (community, creative practices, physical movement, spiritual connection) while you consider

• Check in with yourself again in a few weeks or months

The option will still be there. Therapy isn't going anywhere. And choosing it when you're genuinely ready will likely make it more helpful than forcing it because the calendar changed.

What I Actually Believe

I believe deeply in this work. I've witnessed therapy create meaningful shifts in people's lives and help them understand themselves more fully, respond to challenges more skillfully, and treat themselves with more kindness.

I also believe in your autonomy. Your right to make informed decisions about your own care. Your capacity to know, better than anyone else, what you need and when you need it.

Therapy is a powerful tool. But it's a tool, not the tool. And like any tool, it works best when you're using it intentionally, with clear enough reasons and adequate capacity, rather than because everyone around you says you should be.

So if you're feeling the January pressure, I'm offering you permission to pause. To get curious about your actual reasons. To wait if that feels wiser. To choose therapy if and when it genuinely serves you. Not the cultural moment we're in.

Your timing matters. Your reasons matter. And honouring both of those isn't resistance, it's exactly the kind of self-awareness that makes any form of growth work more meaningful when you're ready for it.

If there are aspects of starting therapy you'd like me to explore further—or if this reflection sparked thoughts you'd like to share—I'd genuinely welcome hearing from you. This conversation feels particularly important in January, but it's one I think deserves space year-round.