Things I Actually Say in Therapy (A Small Peek Into the Room)

This blog is adapted from one of our recent podcast episodes.  You can take a listen at the button above.

I recently challenged myself to write down 10 to 15 phrases that come up for me regularly in therapy sessions. What I ended up with was less a list of tidy phrases and more a collection of paragraphs. But when I read back through them, I thought: these are worth sharing.

I want to be clear upfront: this is not a complete picture of what therapy looks like. This is maybe 5 to 10% of what happens in the room. Therapy isn't me walking in and throwing out metaphors. But these are perspectives, reframes, and pieces of truth that I find myself coming back to again and again because they help. And if any of them land for you today, outside of a therapy context, that's a good thing too.

Key Takeaways

In this blog post, you'll learn:

  • The phrases and perspectives I return to most often in session

  • Why being overly critical of yourself might not be a personality trait, it might be a crisis response

  • What chronic trauma does to behavior long after the traumatic experiences end

  • Why leaving therapy feeling tired is normal and why that's not the same as it not working

  • What "your parents did the best they could" actually means (and doesn't mean)

  • Why everything is figureoutable

"If You're Angry With Your Husband at a Nine, But He's Only Ever Hurt You at a Three, A Lot of That Pain Isn't Really About Him."

This one comes up a lot when I'm working with couples, but it applies in individual work too.

It's a simple check: on a scale of zero to ten, how distressed or dysregulated am I right now? And separately, how much has this person actually hurt me, on that same scale?

When those numbers are far apart, it's worth getting curious about the gap. Sometimes a spouse or partner genuinely has hurt someone at a nine or a ten. That's a different conversation. But often the gap exists because intimate relationships activate old wounds in ways that no other relationship can. Your partner is the closest person you have. They trigger you like nobody else does, not necessarily because of what they've done, but because of where those triggers were first created.

Is your partner actually the worst? Or have your most painful experiences happened in intimate relationships, making this one activate you like nothing else?

That's hard to sit with. It's also really important.

Book a free consultation at Seen Therapy →

"Getting to a Safe Place After Chronic Trauma Is Like Spending the Day at the Beach Without Sunscreen."

You get back to the hotel. The room is nice. And then you realize you have second-degree burns.

The hotel didn't cause the burns. You just couldn't feel them until you got somewhere safe enough to notice.

This is one of the things that confuses people most when they've experienced chronic relational trauma and then find some semblance of safety - in a relationship, in a living situation, in themselves. Symptoms they didn't know they had start surfacing. They wonder where all of this is coming from. Why now? Things seem better. Why do I feel worse?

Because you don't notice the sunburn while you're still at the beach.

The symptoms were always there. Safety is what finally made it possible to feel them.

"Crisis Does Not Allow for New Thoughts, Creativity, or Softness."

I say some version of this to clients who come in telling me they're just so much more critical of themselves than other people are. So much more hypervigilant. So much harder on themselves.

Here's the reframe I offer: in crisis, we are all critical. We are all hypervigilant. That's not a character flaw, that's what crisis produces in every human nervous system.

The issue isn't that you're this uniquely self-critical person. The issue is that you are being driven into a crisis state more often than most people are. Probably because crisis was your normal for a long time, and the nervous system learned to live there.

When we're in a crisis state, we become data-collecting machines. Every detail matters. The brain is scanning, assessing, categorizing - and doing it in milliseconds. It collects information, evaluates its relevance, and discards what it doesn't need, all before it even fully registers consciously. That's not a flaw. That's a brilliantly designed survival system.

The problem is when the survival system stays on even when the crisis has passed.

"I Am Not Easily Distracted in Our Sessions. But If the Building Were Spontaneously Set on Fire, Nothing Would Distract Me From That."

That's trauma.

When a traumatic memory is activated, we're suddenly back in the burning building. Everything in us is oriented toward that threat. We're not distractible, not creative, not soft, because life-threatening situations are designed to take up the entire brain's attention.

EMDR works, in part, by gently taxing the working memory,  introducing enough distraction to signal to the brain: if this were actually life-threatening, you wouldn't be distractible right now. It must not be a current threat. The building isn't on fire anymore.

That shift from fully consumed to gently distracted is part of how EMDR helps the brain update its threat assessment of a memory.

"When's the Last Time You Had a Full Physical? We Don't Want to Treat an Iron Deficiency With EMDR."

I used to say something like, "That's a physical thing. I'm here for the brain." And then I realized that's not accurate, because the brain is a physical thing. The brain and the body aren't actually separable.

What I mean now when I say something like this is: there are sometimes root concerns that I genuinely cannot address. Hormone dysregulation. An iron deficiency. High blood pressure. These things produce mental health symptoms, and no amount of EMDR is going to resolve them.

If you're presenting with symptoms that look like something I've seen connected to a physical root cause, I'm going to tell you. Not because I'm diagnosing you with anything, but because I'd be doing you a disservice if I just kept processing without flagging it.

Sometimes the most important thing I can do in a session is say: go see your primary care physician. Get some labs done. Let's make sure we're not missing something.

Book a free consultation at Seen Therapy →

"At the Most Basic Level, I'm Really Good at Identifying Your Patterns, Understanding Root Causes, and Helping You Nurture Something New."

All the EMDR terminology, all the phase language, all the clinical frameworks… iit can get overwhelming. So I try to distill it.

That's what I do. I help you see what's happening, understand why it's happening, and build something better in its place. Everything else is in service of those three things.

"All the Things You Hate Yourself for That You Did in That Relationship Are Behaviors That Kept You Alive."

When I work with people who have left difficult or abusive relationships, they often come in angry at themselves. Frustrated with how they behaved. Ashamed of choices they made inside that relationship.

And I remind them: those behaviors made sense at the time. They were adaptive. They were sometimes critical for survival. They don't just disappear the moment you leave the relationship that required them.

Those behaviors kept you going. When they show up now  in contexts where they don't fit anymore, it can be confusing and frustrating. But hating yourself for them misses the point. They weren't signs of weakness. They were signs of survival.

"Before We've Done Work, We Find Relationships We're Acclimated To, Not Relationships We Necessarily Want, But Ones That Feel Familiar."

You can be acclimated to something you hate. The people of Vermont are acclimated to brutal winters. They don't necessarily love the cold,  they just know how to survive it. It's familiar. And familiarity, when nothing else has been safe, can feel like safety.

If the relationships in your childhood were difficult or painful, you may find yourself drawn to difficult or painful relationships in adulthood. Not because you want them. Not because you deserve them. Because you're acclimated to them. Because they're the kind of relationship your nervous system knows how to navigate.

EMDR addresses the trauma underneath that pattern. But the behavioral scaffolding that was built to survive chronic trauma, that's its own layer of work. EMDR alone doesn't dismantle it. The behaviors and patterns that formed around the trauma need attention too.

"EMDR Addresses the Trauma. But There's a Whole Scaffolding of Behavior Built to Survive It."

This is one of the most important distinctions I make for clients coming in with chronic trauma histories.

With acute trauma like a single incident, addressed relatively quickly, EMDR can often do the heavy lifting. There's no scaffolding of behavior that's had time to build up around it.

With chronic trauma, especially relational trauma that started in childhood, the trauma itself is only part of what needs to be addressed. Around it has grown an entire structure of behaviors, coping strategies, relationship patterns, and ways of being that made sense inside the trauma and that don't serve you now that you're out of it.

EMDR does the trauma work. Then there's the question: if I'm not in active crisis every day, what does life look like now? That's more work. And honestly? It can be really good work.

"You Won't Always Leave a Session Feeling Great. But It Is My Goal That You Also Leave Hopeful."

I think there's a misconception that we go to therapy to feel good. The hope is that eventually you feel well, but those aren't the same thing, and therapy doesn't produce the first one consistently.

You're much more likely to leave feeling tired and stretched thin than skipping out the door. That's not failure. That's the work. What I do want is for there to be hope underneath the tired. We can hold hope and exhaustion at the same time.

"Your Parents Did the Best That They Could. And Sometimes That Best Still Isn't Enough."

This one gets people.

When I say "your parents did the best they could," I'm not excusing harm. I'm not minimizing what happened. I'm also not saying their best was good enough because sometimes it really wasn't. Sometimes someone's best meant their kids didn't get what they needed. And that matters. That has consequences.

What I'm trying to offer is a framework that makes room for both truths at once: that someone can be doing their best and still hurt the people around them. That intention and impact aren't the same thing. That "they meant well" doesn't cancel out what you experienced.

I can't always hold this belief myself. There are things that happen to people that strain the limits of that framework. But I think it's a useful place to start, especially when people are so entrenched in either full blame or full excuse that they can't see clearly.

"I Can Hold That for You. You Don't Have to Hold It So Tight."

Simple. Powerful.

In EMDR especially, things come up that we're not addressing in that session. Material surfaces that isn't the target. And I'll say: I've got that. I'm writing it down. You don't need to hold it right now.

It sounds small. For a lot of people, it isn't.

"This Is All Figureoutable."

My favorite. Maybe one day it'll be on a T-shirt.

Whatever you're carrying, whatever you've been through, wherever you are right now, it's figureoutable. Not easy. Not quick. Not without help. But figureoutable.

That's what I believe about the people I work with. And I'd like you to believe it about yourself too.

If any of this resonated — I'd love to talk.Book a free consultation at Seen Therapy Services →📞 417-708-7909 |seentherapy.org📍 2148 West Chesterfield Blvd, Suite E205, Springfield, MO 65807

Frequently Asked Questions

Why am I so critical of myself?

It might not be a personality trait, it might be a crisis response. In a state of crisis, every human becomes hypervigilant and self-critical. That's the nervous system doing its job. If you find yourself constantly harsh and self-critical, the more useful question is: how often is your nervous system being driven into a crisis state? Because in crisis, criticism is universal. Outside of it, it softens naturally.

Why do I keep ending up in the same kinds of relationships?

Before we've done deeper work, we tend to find relationships we're acclimated to, not necessarily the ones we want, but the ones that feel familiar. If the relationships in your childhood were difficult or painful, your nervous system learned to navigate that kind of dynamic. It doesn't seek it out because you deserve it or want it. It seeks it out because familiarity can feel like safety when nothing else has been safe. This is one of the core patterns EMDR and trauma therapy work to address.

Why do I feel worse after starting therapy?

Because therapy opens things up. When you begin processing trauma, the brain doesn't just file away one memory and stop, it starts surfacing connected material that also needs attention. For people who have spent years containing or suppressing, that can feel destabilizing at first. It's not therapy failing you. It's your nervous system finally doing what it's been trying to do. The goal is to move through that, not to avoid it. You should leave therapy tired, not out of control. If you're leaving feeling destabilized regularly, talk to your therapist about closure and pacing.

What does trauma have to do with my relationship patterns?

A lot, often more than people realize. Chronic relational trauma, especially from childhood,  doesn't just affect how you feel about yourself. It shapes what feels normal, what feels safe, and who you're drawn to. EMDR addresses the trauma itself. But around chronic trauma there's also a scaffolding of behaviors and patterns that developed to survive it. Both layers need attention in therapy.

How do I know if my reactions are about my partner or my past?

A simple starting point: on a scale of zero to ten, how distressed are you right now? And separately, on that same scale, how much has this person actually hurt you? When those numbers are far apart, there's something worth getting curious about. The gap between how activated you feel and what actually happened often points toward old wounds being triggered by a current relationship, not because your partner is blameless, but because intimate relationships activate our deepest material.

Does therapy always feel good?

No, and I'd be doing you a disservice if I suggested it would. Therapy is more likely to leave you feeling tired and stretched thin than skipping out the door. That's not a sign it isn't working. What I do want is for there to be hope underneath the tired. We can hold exhaustion and hope at the same time. The goal of therapy isn't to feel good after every session. It's to eventually feel well.

What if I don't have a single big traumatic event, can therapy still help me?

Absolutely. Chronic criticism, attachment wounds, emotional neglect, childhood shame - these are legitimate traumas, and they respond to EMDR and trauma therapy just as meaningfully as more acute events do. You don't need a single identifiable "big thing" to benefit from this work. If something is still affecting how you move through the world, it deserves attention.

Related Resources

About Cassandra Minnick

EMDR Intensive Therapy for Busy Professionals | Trauma & Anxiety Treatment | Licensed Professional Counselor, EMDRIA Certified

I'm an EMDRIA-certified EMDR therapist with over a decade of experience helping adults understand and heal from chronic trauma. My practice focuses on the often-confusing patterns that emerge in adulthood—the behaviors, reactions, and relationship dynamics that don't make sense until we trace them back to their origins.

Chronic trauma doesn't always look like what we expect. It shows up in how we respond to conflict, how we relate to ourselves, and in the persistent feeling that something is "off" even when life looks fine on the surface. I work with clients to make sense of these patterns and create lasting change through EMDR therapy.

I specialize in EMDR intensive therapy—a condensed format that works particularly well for busy professionals who need effective treatment without the commitment of weekly sessions stretched over months or years.

I've been practicing EMDR since 2016, and I'm passionate about helping people move from survival mode to actually living their lives. When you've spent years adapting to trauma, reclaiming yourself is both powerful and possible.

LinkedIn | EMDRIA Listing

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