Supervision That Doesn’t Suck: A Love Letter to the Next Gen of Therapists
supervision, texas, florida, lmft, lmhc Christina Song supervision, texas, florida, lmft, lmhc Christina Song

Supervision That Doesn’t Suck: A Love Letter to the Next Gen of Therapists

Dear next-gen therapist,

I see you. Tired but passionate. Curious, brilliant, and trying to survive a system that often feels cold and clinical.

You’re navigating impossible caseloads, contradictory feedback, and the weight of client care on minimal support. And too often, supervision feels like just another checkbox.

But here’s the truth: 👉🏽 Supervision should be a space for your becoming, not just your compliance.

What Makes Supervision Actually Nourishing?

Forget the "just show me your progress notes" model. The kind of supervision that sustains us is:

  • Relational: It centers trust, safety, and connection.

  • Reflective: It creates space for you to explore your inner experience, not just your client’s.

  • Liberatory: It challenges oppressive norms, embraces complexity, and invites your full identity into the room.

  • Practical: It gives you real tools, not just academic theory or vague affirmations.

Good supervision makes you braver. It holds you accountable without diminishing your spirit.

Why Old Models Don’t Work Anymore

Let’s be real. Most supervision models were built in white, cishet, able-bodied, patriarchal institutions. They weren’t made for:

  • Queer or trans therapists navigating microaggressions from colleagues

  • Polyam-affirming clinicians trying to challenge pathologizing frameworks

  • Therapists of color holding vicarious trauma while managing systemic harm

  • Neurodivergent clinicians trying to thrive in a field obsessed with sameness

If you've ever felt "too much" or "not enough" in supervision, it's not you. It’s the system.

What We Actually Need

We need supervisors who:

  • Ask how you’re doing. REALLY. And can hold space for honest answers.

  • Talk about countertransference and identity with nuance.

  • Normalize uncertainty and celebrate when you say, "I don't know, but I want to learn."

  • Help you rest, set boundaries, and not hustle yourself into burnout.

We need spaces where supervision isn't about performance. It's about becoming the therapist you want to be.

So Here’s My Love Letter to You:

You are not here to be a cog in the machine. You’re here to be a healer, a challenger, a soft space in a hard world. You deserve support that reminds you of your own brilliance, not just your responsibilities. And if you’ve never had a supervisor who made you feel seen, supported, and free to grow, I’m so sorry. And I want better for you. We all deserve better.

Let’s build it together.

Tell Me: What’s the best or worst thing you’ve experienced in supervision? What do you wish someone had told you in your first year as a therapist?

Drop a comment, send a DM, or share this with someone who needs it.

Until next week,

In resistance & reflection,

Christy

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You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup (But You Can Set It Down for a While)
Christina Song Christina Song

You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup (But You Can Set It Down for a While)

Hey healer,

Let’s talk about self-care. Not the curated kind with candles and captions, but the real kind. The messy, uncomfortable, boundary-enforcing kind that sustains us as clinicians and human beings. The kind that demands we stop performing wellness and start embodying it.

We hold space for deep grief, complex trauma, relational ruptures, and systemic injustice and often do so without adequate systemic support ourselves. This is not sustainable. And it’s not a personal failure. It’s the outcome of a field that demands emotional labor while stigmatizing emotional needs.

As Audre Lorde reminds us:

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare” (Lorde, 1988, p. 130).

Let’s get into what this actually means for us.

The False Binary: Burnout or Bravery

The culture of clinical work often glorifies burnout under the guise of dedication. We're praised for our caseloads, not our capacity. For showing up no matter what, not for showing up well.

But here’s the truth: Burnout is not a badge of honor. Compassion fatigue is not a rite of passage. Running on empty is not sustainable or ethical.

Figley (2002) defined compassion fatigue as the “cost of caring” for others in emotional pain. It results in a slow erosion of empathy, joy, and even identity. We can’t serve others from a place of depletion.

Self-Care Is Ethical, Not Optional

The APA Code of Ethics (2017) states that psychologists are responsible for monitoring their own effectiveness and taking appropriate measures when their personal issues may interfere with their professional responsibilities (Standard 2.06). That means self-care isn’t just about wellness, it’s about competence.

Skovholt and Trotter-Mathison (2016) remind us:

“The professional self is the instrument. Without maintenance, it rusts, dulls, and ultimately breaks down” (p. 23).

This isn’t about perfectionism or productivity, it’s about protecting the instrument that is you.

What Does Real Self-Care Look Like?

Forget Instagram checklists. Let’s talk about what actually helps us feel more whole:

  • Boundaries that are enforced, not just stated Saying no is a complete sentence, and sometimes, it's a life-saving one.

  • Supervision that is supportive, not performative You deserve a space where your feelings, fears, and fatigue are welcome.

  • Rest that is guilt-free Sleep is not negotiable. Neither is joy.

  • Community care as part of your self-care Connection reduces isolation. Healing is relational.

Sometimes it’s about noticing:

  • When your stomach tightens before opening your EHR

  • When you need three cups of coffee just to feel “okay”

  • When weekends don’t feel like enough

That’s your body speaking. Are you listening?

Real Talk: You Might Be Tired, Not “Broken”

You are not unmotivated, you’re likely overwhelmed. You are not a bad clinician, you’re likely under-supported. You are not asking for too much, you’re asking in a system that gives too little.

You’re not alone in this. As Norcross & VandenBos (2018) affirm, self-care is a lifelong practice, not a one-time fix. It evolves with your seasons and your caseload. It’s both preventative and reparative.

Reflective Questions for the Week

  • What does restorative self-care look like for me right now, not what I’ve been told, but what actually works?

  • When did I last feel grounded, alive, and in flow with my work? What contributed to that?

  • Where in my week am I performing wellness versus practicing wellness?

Practice Prompt: Mindful Microbreaks

Start with 5 minutes. Step away from your laptop. Stretch. Breathe. Name what you feel. That’s a form of care. That’s presence. That’s power.

Affirmation for the Week

“My needs are not a burden. They are a roadmap back to myself.”

You deserve the care you so freely give to others. You are allowed to protect your peace, set your boundaries, and refuse to burn out for a profession you love. You are not less of a healer for needing healing. You’re more whole.

And if no one has told you this week: I see you. I’m proud of you. You are doing sacred, beautiful work.

In deep solidarity,

Christy

References

American Psychological Association. (2017). Ethical principles of psychologists and code of conduct. https://www.apa.org/ethics/code

Figley, C. R. (2002). Compassion fatigue: Psychotherapists' chronic lack of self care. Psychotherapy in Practice, 58(11), 1433–1441.

Lorde, A. (1988). A burst of light: Essays. Firebrand Books.

Norcross, J. C., & VandenBos, G. R. (2018). Leaving it at the office: A guide to psychotherapist self-care (2nd ed.). The Guilford Press.

Skovholt, T. M., & Trotter-Mathison, M. J. (2016). The resilient practitioner: Burnout prevention and self-care strategies for counselors, therapists, teachers, and health professionals (3rd ed.). Routledge.

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