Opinion Piece
Mahika Maru,
an Australian Counselling Association student member.
In counseling, there are times when the diagnosis or classification is not immediately apparent. A sense of unease or discomfort in the room, a pause in the client's tone, a change in the direction of someone’s gaze, an abrupt “I don't think this is working anymore” followed by an uncomfortable silence. Occasionally, these moments happen not because of disagreement, trauma, or rupture, but from something softer, more ambiguous, and more challenging to identify.
I first came across it during my initial placement. My client Maya interrupted
mid-sentence, looking at me with a combination of confusion and hurt.“You mentioned something about another client last week,” she said slowly. “It felt .. unfair." Strange isn't it? Like I wasn't the only one anymore. She shrugged it off a second later, as if the words were silly. But they remained in the gap between us.
That was my first conscious encounter with what I now understand as therapy jealousy.
The hidden pain of therapy jealousy
Therapy jealousy is rarely discussed in our educational materials. It's that delicate sorrow a client experiences when a therapist takes time off. The discomfort when the therapist mentions other clients and the unsettling realisation that, despite the intimacy of therapy, the client isn't the only one.
Of course, they know this logically. But therapy isn't just logic — it's feeling, recollection, relocation.When a client's sense of security is challenged, particularly those who have experienced abandonment or attachment issues, they may exhibit jealousy “that can be” similar to what is observed in close relationships.
The reflection of displacement
As therapists, we comprehend that therapy serves as a vessel for projection. When a client expresses concerns about being replaced, it often stems from a deeper emotional wound, possibly caused by a parent who was inconsistent in their emotional support or a caregiver who made love feel like a competition.
We might label it transference or attachment activation. But in the present, it is only agony. The client may not explicitly express their jealousy, but they might convey it through their actions or words.
“I don't think therapy is the right fit for me”, “You seem distracted lately.”, “I sense that you prioritise other clients over us.”
These assertions are interwoven. Behind them may be a hope of being told they are important and recognised.
Our role in the narrative
As therapists, we navigate a precarious line. We have a moral obligation to safeguard client confidentiality, maintain professional boundaries, and avoid creating dependency. But we also demonstrate affection, concern, and mindfulness. As we work closely with our clients, we gradually become integrated into their internal perspective.
When we say something like, “many people struggle with that”, or casually mention another (anonymous) client's story, we may not realise we're unintentionally excluding our client from the uniqueness of their own narrative.
When we take time off, decrease the number of sessions, or change appointment times, even with the best intentions and boundaries, we might unintentionally replicate past situations where our client felt abandoned or unimportant.
Cherishing the significant: transforming jealousy
I've discovered that therapy jealousy isn't something to be afraid of — it's something to embrace. When approached with curiosity and empathy, these moments can strengthen the therapeutic connection.
A few phrases I’ve found helpful in such moments are the following:
Sometimes just labeling the emotion creates room for recovery. Clients frequently experience shame regarding jealousy, particularly in therapy, where they strive to appear “rational” or “mature”. By normalising their emotional responses, we grant them permission to embrace their humanity.
Our own introspection as therapists
Feelings of jealousy during therapy sessions can also trigger our internal reactions. We may feel:
In supervision, I once confessed that I felt oddly flattered and burdened when a client said, “I don't trust anyone else but you”. My supervisor simply asked, ”Can you hold that with care, without needing to fix or run from it?” That moment helped me embrace the dual reality of being a therapist: we are both professional and deeply personal in the eyes of our clients.
Gentle questioning helps in these instances:
The gift of being missed
Therapy jealousy isn't a sign of failure. It's a reflection of the emotional investment one has in their own well-being. When clients perceive themselves as being replaced, less valued, or disconnected from us, it's not just a break. It is an opportunity for us to address their concerns and strengthen our relationship.
A moment to repair and reestablish
And in many ways, isn't that what therapy ultimately aims to achieve — a place to
discover that even when relationships seem fragile, they can be repaired and made whole again?
I now perceive therapy envy as gentle praise: a sign that something significant has emerged in the therapeutic environment. Something worth mourning when it changes, and something absolutely worth returning to with care, honesty, and a genuine sense of love.
Reflection prompt for counsellors:
Have you ever observed subtle indications that a client might be experiencing a sense of being replaced or undervalued during therapy sessions? How did you react and what did you discover about the connection, and about yourself?
Biography
Mahika Maru is a student member of the Australian Counselling Association and is currently undergoing postgraduate training in counseling Her passions revolve around building strong therapeutic connections, engaging in reflective practice, and delving into the intricate emotional dynamics of the therapy environment. She aspires to keep making a positive impact on the ever-changing field of ethical, relationship-centered counseling.