Managing Countertransference as a Therapist: How to Identify It and Stay Grounded
Countertransference is one of those topics that doesn’t get enough air time in our field. We talk endlessly about client care, treatment planning, and interventions, but what about the moments when our own stories show up in the room? When our histories, wounds, or fears collide with what a client brings in?
I want to share a story from my own practice.
When Grief Came Too Close to Home
Three years ago, my dad passed away tragically. His death anniversary was just last month, so grief is never far from my mind. Early in my career, grief work was one of my specialties. I chose it intentionally, part exposure and part calling. I had fears around death, but I also knew I could sit with others in their pain and hold space with compassion.
But shortly after my dad died, I had a client whose story was almost identical to mine. She had just lost her father. She described advocating for him in the hospital, the sounds of the machines, the tubes, the frustration with the system, and then the moment of watching him pass. Sitting across from her, it was as if I was transported back into my own hospital room.
In that moment, I knew I could not fully show up for her. I was struggling to focus. My mind drifted back to my own experience. I felt myself zoning out, fighting back tears, and working so hard internally just to stay seated in the chair. I realized that my energy was going toward managing my own emotions instead of being present for hers. That was the moment I knew I needed to refer her out.
At the time, I wasn’t sure how to communicate this, but I chose honesty. I told her that her story was very close to my own recent loss, and that I didn’t feel I could show up fully for her in the way she deserved. She was understanding. That moment of authenticity, reminding her that I am also human, was humbling and beautiful. And it was absolutely the right choice.
Fast Forward: A New Chapter of Grief Work
Now, three years later, I am in a different place with my grief. Recently, I had another session that mirrored my own experience. As she shared her story, I again found myself in the hospital with my own dad and family. The smells, the sounds, the raw heartbreak were vivid.
But this time was different. I noticed the memories rising up, but I did not get lost in them. I felt the wave of emotion, and I grounded myself with my breath and posture. I was aware of my own experience, but I could redirect back into hers without struggle. I was able to keep my focus on her words, her tone, her body language. I could tell that I was fully present with her story instead of slipping into mine.
That is how I knew I could handle it. I could remain emotionally regulated while still being compassionate. I was not fighting back tears or zoning out. I was listening, tracking, and attuning. The memories were there, but they no longer took me over.
This was a powerful reminder of what it looks like to hold space when countertransference shows up, and to use self-awareness as a guide.
Signs You May Be Experiencing Countertransference
If you’re a therapist, countertransference will happen. Here are some ways to notice it:
You feel unusually activated, emotionally flooded, or transported into your own memories.
Your focus shifts from the client’s narrative to your own internal images or associations.
You find yourself avoiding, over-identifying, or wanting to fix the client’s pain faster than usual.
You feel yourself zoning out, holding back tears, or struggling to concentrate on the client’s words.
The key isn’t to avoid countertransference. It’s to recognize it.
How to Manage Countertransference in the Room
Stay self-aware. Notice your body cues and internal shifts. Awareness is the first safeguard.
Ground yourself. Simple techniques like pressing your feet into the floor, deepening your breath, or naming something in the room can pull you back.
Refocus on the client. Remind yourself that this is their story. You can acknowledge your internal response without acting on it.
Seek consultation. Talk it through with a trusted supervisor or peer. Processing countertransference reduces its power.
Refer out if necessary. Sometimes, the most ethical and compassionate choice is to step back.
Why This Matters
We don’t need to hide from countertransference. Pretending it doesn’t exist is dangerous because it sneaks in and shapes the therapy in unconscious ways. Instead, we can normalize it, name it, and manage it.
For me, these moments have deepened my empathy and reminded me of why I do this work. My dad’s death is part of my story, and it inevitably influences how I sit with grief. But by staying aware and grounded, I can ensure my clients’ stories remain the focus, not mine.
Countertransference is bound to happen. What matters most is how we hold ourselves accountable when it does.
Therapist Toolbox Takeaway
Countertransference is not a failure. It is part of being human.
Awareness is your strongest tool. Notice body cues and emotional shifts.
Use grounding techniques in the moment to stay present.
Talk about it in consultation or supervision to process and gain perspective.
Know when to refer out. Protecting the client’s care is the priority.
Has this ever happened to you? You’re in session and suddenly your own story sneaks in, bringing up memories or emotions you didn’t expect. How did you handle it, and what helped you get grounded again? Feel free to comment below!
