What does the perfect coach or therapist look like? A former CEO exuding gravitas? A clinical psychologist in a pristine lab coat? Or someone who always says the right thing at the right time. As coaches and therapists, it’s not about being perfect. Hold space instead of striving to be “perfect”.
The perfect coach or therapist. What might they look like?
A former CEO-turned-coach, wearing an expensive business suit, exuding gravitas and commanding respect.
A lab-coat-wearing, stern and perfectly presented psychologist with a PhD in Clinical Psychology?
Holding a metric tonne of experience. Saying the right words at the right time. Knowing all the things — and sharing their piercing insights. Yes, these people do exist — but are they perfect? Perfect, as in — perfect in their professional outcomes and also client collaboration?
Yet how may a brand-new coach or a provisional psychologist be perfect for their client?
Another provocative question I would like to ask you is: Is a 6 out of 10 good enough? It may be a 6 out of 10 in effort or a 6 out of 10 in eventual client outcome. How does it feel when I ask you this question?
Chances are, you feel like many of my clients do—a feeling of “not quite right,” to generalise. If you attend a session and greet your client, is this a 5 out of 10 straight out of the gate? I would hope so. Yet, what might this look like if we add another point to arrive at 6 out of 10?
Your presence and curiosity about the client might be “good enough” for today. This might award you an imaginary score of 6 out of 10. There might not be an excellent intervention applied with skill in the session. Of course, this may take you to the giddy heights of 7 or higher.
Your client may not have discovered any amazing insights today. Does this drop you back to 5 out of 10 — or less?
They may be worse off today compared to previous sessions. Today’s outcome may or may not be due to circumstances within your control. What might be your score now?
Your attention on this imaginary score is self-defeating. Your preoccupation with the score prevents you from being in the moment with your client.
There is no way any of us can be “perfect”. As coaches and therapists, we’re not immune to our flaws and biases. We’re humans first, then coaches or therapists second. This humanity allows us to connect with our clients on a deeper level. We see the light and the dark in them, not as lab rats to train, but as fellow humans on a journey.
Think about what it is like to sit across from your client. I’m about to ask you a big question. This question speaks to how you show up in our helping profession:
Do you see a problem that needs solving or a person who needs understanding?
In my Master’s degree, we received intensive Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy (CBT) training. This training accompanied excellent grounding in counselling micro-skills, ethics, and treatment planning. This training set me up to see clients in a therapeutic space. Coaches often learn coaching micro-skills, code of ethics, and coaching models.
We work in systems that encourage treatment planning, structured interventions, and measurement. The medical model and organisational clients impose expectations. These expectations seem reasonable to us practitioners at first. Yet then we start seeing clients — and our outlook may shift. Do we see a clinical client as a walking Depression, Anxiety, and Stress (DASS-21) score? A rapid assessment leads to a conclusive diagnosis and then a treatment plan. A letter after session six showing lower depression scores in the client, for example? One after session ten shows the client’s distress levels are in the DASS-21’s conception of “normal”.
This perspective suggests you see a problem that needs solving. This is OK. It’s not entirely “me” as a practitioner, and differing views are acceptable. Our biases influence our views, too.
Our views and biases shape how we perceive and interact with our clients. It’s crucial to acknowledge this and use it to our advantage.
For instance, I once worked with a client who reminded me of a difficult colleague from my past. At first, I became irritated with them. But, by recognising this bias, I could step back. I saw the client for who they were, not as I projected onto them.
Being human first means accepting our flaws. They help us make real connections. It’s about being our true selves, flaws and all, not trying to be an idealised ‘perfect’ coach or therapist.
Do You Hide Behind Interventions, Models or Worksheets?
While in my provisional psychologist days, I counselled an older male client. He was afraid to seek therapy. Australian men of a particular vintage still believed that therapy was for weak or “crazy” people. He said he was anxious about any allied health or medical professional. My client was a salt of the earth, school of hard knocks kind of guy—not the type into lengthy psychoeducation or abstract models.
I knew this, yet I had unconsciously taken on a quest for perfection. In hindsight, I was anxious, too — but for a different reason. I was nervous about being pleased, effective, and winning the client. I trotted out evidence-based CBT models for his presentation. He was curious about the model. Yet, did this help with his anxiety? No. My thinking of models over his predicament and needs prevented genuine rapport. If anything, the model’s complexity might have made him feel stupid or out of his depth. In my quest for perfection, I lost this client.
I now wonder if he found a perfectly imperfect therapist who held space for him. I hope so. I hope his therapist chuckled along with him when he reflected on me. I was his perfection-inspired yet ineffective therapist.
It’s tempting. To reach for the first template or guide on a “gold standard”, evidence-based intervention. Or hold onto shiny new worksheets, hoping they will resolve your client’s issues. Then, inflict these worksheets or interventions to avoid awkward silences. These tools can feel like a security blanket. They help when we’re unsure about holding space with our client. Some clients baulk at a cookie-cutter approach. “Don’t even think of trying that CBT shit on me,” one client told me. Discerning coaching clients may have similar expectations. They may resist attempts to apply fundamental coaching models (like GROW). Can you be a coach who takes comfort in ambiguity and holds space despite “not knowing the answers”?
These interventions and models can be helpful. But they can also block genuine connections. They might distract us from building excellent rapport or even reveal our insecurities. How would you know if you are being distracted by interventions and models? By thinking of the percentage of your attention on them before, during and after time with your client. By being honest about how soothing a good model, intervention or timely worksheet is for you.
Early in my career, I’d often rush to fill silences with questions from a CBT worksheet. It took me a while to realise that silence was sometimes more potent than any question. It allowed the client to process their thoughts.
Even ‘perfect’ coaches and therapists use worksheets and models. They also use interventions. The key is in how we use them. Are they a crutch we rely on or a tool we wield with skill?
Other failures I experienced included trying way too hard. I gave my sessions my absolute best, but in doing so, I grasped perfection with a tight grip. For instance, it shook me when clients cancelled or were not as accountable as I would have liked. There was no way I would try too little. Yet, getting out of my way gave my clients more space to sit with their thoughts.
From my mistakes, I have learned that balance is key. There must be a balance between trying too much and trying too little, like grasping a baby bird—not too tight and not too loose.
The most effective approach often lies in finding a balance. Use interventions and models when they help the client, but don’t be afraid to set them aside and be present. Sometimes, the most powerful action we can take is to listen deeply and reflect precisely.
Remember, our clients aren’t coming to us for a perfect, polished performance. They’re coming for a genuine, human connection.
I now laugh at myself when I hear about rigid beliefs around high standards in general. This is especially the case when working with clients with perfectionism. I sense their rigidity — their “shoulds” and “musts” about how they should be. When I feel this, my feelings in my body give me a sense of playfulness. It’s an antidote to the seriousness and striving in the room. I ask why they seek such high, unrelenting standards—I hear an extensive range of answers.
Then I ask them in a rather cheeky way: What would I look like if I were the “perfect therapist”? Does it matter that a frumpy, middle-aged bloke sits before them? Wearing jeans and a smart casual top while swigging an iced coffee? I’m far from perfect from a business or mental health perspective. Yet, I’m completely in tune with my client. I have a genuine curiosity and love collaborating with them. Then what is perfect? And what is “good enough”?
A skilled coach or therapist serves as a mirror to the client’s problems. In doing so, clients can experience authentic visibility and acknowledgment. My fellow imperfect coaches and psychologists are something we’re all capable of providing.