Resourcing In Psychotherapy: A Tool or a Trap?
In therapy, the practice of "resourcing" clients is often used to help them confront difficult emotions or traumatic experiences. This approach provides clients with tools, whether internal (imagined safe spaces, supportive figures) or external (relaxation techniques, grounding exercises), to equip them for the emotional work of therapy. On the surface, this makes sense: if a client feels overwhelmed, having resources to draw from can empower them to process heavy emotions without becoming dysregulated. However, this approach raises some fundamental questions: Are these resources always necessary? Or could this reliance on imagined supports reflect our own insecurities as therapists, hinting at a fear that our mere presence isn't enough?
Many therapeutic models integrate some form of resourcing. For instance, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR) uses techniques like the "safe place" visualization to ground clients when they feel overwhelmed by traumatic memories. Similarly, in trauma-focused therapies, therapists often teach clients mindfulness or breathing exercises to help them manage distressing thoughts. These tools aim to create emotional safety by giving the client something to hold onto when the therapeutic content becomes too intense.
While these methods are well-intentioned and even backed by empirical evidence, they prompt us to consider whether this focus on resourcing might unintentionally distance clients from the real-time relational support we offer as therapists. Is the therapist's presence not enough to facilitate healing? Is resourcing a way of compensating for our fear that, without these external tools, we aren't adequately equipped to help clients navigate their pain? Perhaps resourcing reflects our own discomfort with the therapeutic process, where we feel responsible for ensuring clients remain in control and avoid emotional flooding. As therapists, we are trained to be cautious, to avoid pushing too hard. But this caution can sometimes prevent deeper therapeutic work from unfolding.
There’s a more subtle concern here: the difference between an imagined supportive other and the felt presence of a secure other in the room. Many resourcing techniques involve clients visualizing supportive figures, either real or imagined, who can accompany them through difficult content. While this can offer comfort, it may fall short of the deep healing that comes from the embodied presence of a therapist attuned to the client's emotional state. The therapist is a real, tangible person in the here-and-now, not a figment of the imagination, and there is something irreplaceable about this presence.
Research underscores the importance of the therapeutic relationship in healing. In fact, studies show that client factors, including their relationship with the therapist, account for as much as 86% of therapeutic outcomes, while specific therapeutic interventions account for a much smaller percentage. It is the felt sense of being seen, heard, and emotionally held by another human being that often leads to the most profound change. Imagined supports, no matter how skillfully crafted, cannot fully replicate the real-time attunement of a therapist who sits with the client in their discomfort, acknowledging and validating their pain.
This raises an important question: could resourcing sometimes serve as a form of avoidance—both for the therapist and the client? As therapists, we might be tempted to reach for tools or techniques when we feel uncertain about our ability to hold space for a client's distress. In doing so, we may inadvertently signal to the client that their pain is too much for us to bear. This could lead to a reinforcement of their belief that emotions are dangerous or that they need to handle difficult emotions on their own, instead of trusting the therapeutic relationship to carry them through.
Therapy, at its core, is about relationship—about being present with another human being in their full range of emotions, from joy to terror, without turning away. Effective therapy often involves sitting with discomfort, both for the client and the therapist, and resisting the urge to smooth over difficult emotions with strategies or interventions. This is where real healing happens: in the messiness of human connection, where both parties are vulnerable and present with each other.
In fact, staying emotionally available to our clients, without retreating behind techniques or protocols, may be one of the most challenging aspects of our work. It requires us to trust in the power of our presence, to believe that simply being with the client in their pain is enough. This means accepting our own fears and insecurities, and embracing the reality that we, too, are imperfect human beings navigating the uncertainty of the therapeutic process.
So, while resourcing has its place in therapy, we should be mindful of how and when we use it. If it becomes a crutch for us to avoid the discomfort of sitting with a client's raw emotion, we risk missing the opportunity for deeper relational healing. The presence of a real, attuned other—someone who can bear witness to the client’s pain without flinching—may ultimately be the most powerful resource we can offer.
In the end, therapy isn't just about equipping clients with tools to manage their emotions. It's about teaching them, through the therapeutic relationship, that they don't have to face their emotions alone. The question we should continue to ask ourselves as therapists is this: Are we truly present with our clients in their pain, or are we subtly signaling that their pain is too much for us by handing them tools and resources? Only by staying with the discomfort—our own and theirs—can we foster the kind of connection that leads to real, lasting change.