ACT invites therapists to show up authentically in the room. But how can we do that effectively?

Many ACT practitioners are familiar with the Two Mountains metaphor. Two Mountains reminds us that just as our clients are climbing a mountain toward a more vital, meaningful life, we are climbing our own mountain as clinicians and humans. The only difference is that from our mountain, we have a perspective on the client's journey that is difficult for them to see from their vantage point. We can observe obstacles up ahead, spot workable paths toward the peak, and call out support and encouragement.
I have found that many therapists have the simultaneous experience of relief and anxiety when they discover that ACT does not require them to pretend that they have everything figured out as therapists and humans. It's exhausting to hold the stance of the wise, above-it-all therapist! And yet, there is a pressure that comes along with the invitation to authenticity as an ACT therapist.
Now that I am 'allowed' to be genuine around the universality of human struggle, what does that look like?
For many of us, our training as mental health professionals has not prepared us to connect with our clients in this way. We are used to sitting back in our chairs with an air of detachment. We are used to presenting as having it all together. And many of us find that it is scary to invite more of our personhood into the therapy room. Where are the boundaries? What separates who I am as a human from who I am as a professional?
One helpful approach can be to consider the difference between process and content in therapy. ACT is rewarding (and challenging!) in part due to its emphasis on process rather than content; what is happening in the moment, in the room, is often just as important as the specific content being discussed. In other words, while the client and I may be talking about challenges they are facing in their relationships (the content), it can be particularly helpful to attend to the process as well: what feelings are showing up as they speak, what is the nature of their thinking in this moment (ruminative vs. focused, fast vs. moderate vs. slow, descriptive vs. evaluative), how are they speaking about these issues, how is their body positioned, what is their facial expression telling me, what feelings and thoughts are showing up in me as I listen to their words. Attending solely to content is like reading the lyrics of a song without knowing the genre of music or hearing the melody. Observing and engaging with process as the therapist and teaching our clients to do this in their own lives adds an incomparable richness to our work.
The same can be said for your approach as a therapist, especially if you hope to move toward authenticity. What about your process as a human can be translated into your work? Perhaps it's the cadence of your speech, the way you phrase your thoughts. Maybe it is the emotional tenor of how you show up to the therapeutic relationship. What would it be like to allow your genuine emotional reactions to the client to show through any adopted veneer of professionalism? Note that this is very different than allowing our content as a person to enter the therapy room. Engaging in your authentic process does not mean talking about what you did last weekend or detailing an argument you had with your partner. It means showing up as a person, genuinely, in how you are, even when the client does not know many of the details of who you are in your personal life.
For me, this has meant letting go of some fused thoughts around how I use language - I can be a therapist without sounding like a textbook. As I write this, I notice my mind giving me judgments about how silly some of the following words sound, and at the same time, these are things I say in therapy because they are genuine to me as a person. Asking questions like, "What was the vibe in that moment?" Calling my clients "dude" when I get excited. Even cursing, although it's not a habit that feels particularly values-consistent to me, sometimes occurs in my therapy sessions as my genuine reaction to what the client is saying.
Similarly, our in-the-room process as a therapist is incredibly important to our work in ACT. One of the most common questions I hear from therapists who are new to ACT is, "Can I really just say what shows up for me?" Yes! You absolutely can. And you absolutely should.
"I'm noticing that I'm not sure where to go next in this session."
"My mind is giving me a lot of thoughts at once."
"I'm just observing how sad I feel when I hear you buying into that thought your mind is giving you about not being good enough."
Sharing our process in the room is not only a way to further our authentic connection with the client as a fellow human being, it models the exact processes we are encouraging our clients to practice in ACT.
When we can observe our own thoughts, feelings, and sensations - especially when those experiences speak to struggles, points of uncertainty, and places of vulnerability and self-doubt - we are demonstrating ways that our clients can interact with those same experiences in their own lives. Rather than rejecting or covering up our vulnerabilities, we are modeling ways of acknowledging these vulnerabilities and struggles in the present moment, holding them lightly, and choosing a values-consistent path forward.
Many of the therapists with whom I've worked report that engaging authentically in their own process in the therapy room is incredibly liberating. And yet, there is a safety in professionalism, which means it can be all too easy to slip back into "therapist mode." Recognize that you have the choice, as each moment of the session unfolds, to choose authenticity and presence, to be a therapist who is also a person. Invite your genuine process into the room, and observe its impact on your therapy.
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