When Your Therapist Isn't the Right Fit

Key Takeaways:

✓ Not clicking with a therapist is common and doesn’t mean you’re “bad at therapy” or beyond help—fit is a huge part of what makes support work

✓ There are clear signs a therapist might not be right for you, like feeling judged, unsafe, or consistently misunderstood over multiple sessions

✓ You’re allowed to ask for changes, switch therapists, or pause therapy altogether while you explore other wellness supports and therapy alternatives

✓ If you can’t afford therapy or your therapist isn’t helping, there are realistic options—campus counseling, group support, low-cost clinics, and wellness apps

✓ Tending to your wellbeing is a long-term process; changing therapists (or paths) is often a sign of growth, not failure

You finally worked up the courage to start therapy. You filled out the forms, did the awkward intake, maybe even cried in front of a stranger on Zoom. And now… something just feels off.

Maybe you leave sessions more drained than supported. Maybe your therapist talks over you, or you feel like you’re wasting their time. Maybe you’re thinking, “If this is what help is, I’m not sure I want it.”

If that’s you, you’re not alone—and you’re not being “too picky.” Finding a therapist who actually fits you is more like dating than picking a dentist. It’s emotional, messy, and sometimes the first match just isn’t it.

This guide is here to help you notice what’s not working, understand why fit matters so much, and figure out your options—especially if you’re a student, dealing with anxiety or low mood, and can’t just throw money at the problem.

1. Why therapist fit matters

When you’re already dealing with anxiety, low mood, ADHD, or big life stress, the idea of “shopping around” for a therapist can feel exhausting. But there’s a reason it matters.

The bigger picture

A lot of emotional challenges show up in late teens and early 20s. Research shows that half of all emotional conditions start by age 14 and three-quarters by 24, making this exact life stage a critical window for support (American Psychiatric Association, 2024).

At the same time, many young people aren’t getting the help they need. In one national survey, about 20% of adolescents reported having unmet care needs for their emotional health in the past year (CDC, 2025). So if you’ve made it into therapy at all, you’ve already pushed through a lot of barriers.

That’s why therapist fit matters: if your first experience feels invalidating, boring, or confusing, it’s easy to think, “Guess support just doesn’t work for me,” and never go back.

What “fit” actually feels like

You don’t need to feel instantly comfortable telling your therapist every secret. But over time, a good fit usually feels like:

• You feel listened to, not rushed
• You can say “I don’t agree with that” without panic
• You leave at least some sessions feeling lighter, clearer, or a bit more grounded
• You feel like they “get” your context—ADHD, cultural background, queer identity, student life, etc.

Example:

You say, “My brain just freezes when I open my laptop,” and instead of calling you lazy, your therapist says, “That sounds like anxiety and maybe ADHD paralysis. Let’s break down what’s happening in those first 30 seconds.”

That kind of response shows they’re curious about your experience, not judging it.

Why this is not your fault

If therapy doesn’t feel helpful, it’s easy to turn on yourself:

• “Maybe I’m not trying hard enough.”
• “Maybe my problems aren’t serious enough.”
• “Maybe I’m just too broken to fix.”

But the data tells a different story. About half of young adults who are struggling actually receive any support in a given year (SAMHSA, 2024). Systems are overloaded. Many therapists are burned out. And not all are trained in things that matter a lot to Gen Z—like ADHD, trauma, identity, or TikTok-level attention spans.

You’re not broken. The system is complicated and often under-resourced. Fit is a real factor, not a personality flaw.

2. Signs your therapist isn’t a good fit

Sometimes, therapy feels uncomfortable because you’re doing hard emotional work. That’s normal. But there’s a difference between “this is challenging in a growth way” and “this feels wrong.”

Yellow flags vs red flags

Here’s a quick overview:

Common red flags

If you notice these patterns over several sessions (not just once when everyone’s tired), your therapist might not be right for you:

• You feel judged or shamed.
  They make comments that sound like:

  • “You just need to be more disciplined.”
  • “Are you sure it’s really that bad?”
  • “Other people have it worse.”

• They talk more than they listen.
  You spend most of the session hearing their stories, advice, or monologues, and leave thinking, “Did I even say anything?”

• They dismiss your identity or experience.
  This can hit hard for LGBTQ+ students or students of color. Many young people in these groups report not getting the emotional support they need (CDC/APA, 2023–2024). If your therapist:

  • Downplays discrimination you’ve faced
  • Misgenders you or ignores your pronouns
  • Blames cultural or family background without nuance
    that’s not okay.

• They don’t respect your boundaries.
  Examples:

  • Pushing you to talk about trauma before you’re ready
  • Ignoring you when you say “I don’t want to go there today”
  • Pressuring you to do things that feel unsafe

• You consistently leave feeling confused and alone.
  Not every session will be amazing, but if you almost always leave thinking, “I have no idea what we just did and I feel worse,” that’s data.

When it’s just “new” vs “not right”

In the first 2–3 sessions, it’s normal to feel:

• Awkward
• Unsure what to say
• Worried you’re “doing therapy wrong”

Those feelings alone don’t mean it’s a bad fit. But if, after a handful of sessions, you still:

• Dread seeing them
• Edit yourself heavily because you don’t feel safe
• Feel invisible or misunderstood

…it might be time to reassess.

3. How to check in with yourself

Before you decide to stay, ask for changes, or leave, it helps to pause and notice what’s actually happening.

A quick self-check

Try these questions after your next session. You can even jot answers in a notes app or mood journal:

1. How did I feel going into session?
   (Anxious, numb, hopeful, annoyed?)

2. How did I feel leaving?
   Not “fixed,” but: Did I feel a tiny bit more grounded, seen, or understood?

3. Did I feel safe being honest?
   Or did I hide parts of my story because I was afraid of their reaction?

4. Did I get at least one useful thing?
   A reframe, a question, a tiny strategy, or even just, “It makes sense you feel this way.”

5. If I could change one thing about how sessions go, what would it be?
   More structure? Less talking from them? More tools for anxiety? More space for ADHD struggles?

Writing even one sentence per question is enough. This isn’t a full therapy evaluation; it’s just you tending to your own experience.

Naming what you need

A lot of us go into therapy thinking, “I just need someone to fix me.” But different people need different things:

• If you have ADHD, you might want:

  • More structure, visuals, or concrete tools
  • Help breaking tasks into tiny steps
  • Validation that executive dysfunction isn’t laziness

• If you’re dealing with anxiety, you might want:

  • Skills for how to deal with anxiety in the moment
  • Breathing or grounding techniques
  • Help challenging spirals, not just talking about them

• If you’re in low mood, you might want:

  • Gentle accountability to do one small thing between sessions
  • Less “cheerleading” and more honest validation
  • Help planning small, realistic actions (behavioural activation)

You’re allowed to want specific things from therapy. That’s not being demanding; that’s being clear.

4. How to talk to your therapist about it

This part can feel terrifying—especially if you hate conflict or worry about disappointing people. But you don’t have to give a TED Talk on your feelings. You can keep it simple.

Scripts you can borrow

You can say this in session, or send it as a message/email if that feels safer.

If you want more structure:

“I’m noticing I leave our sessions unsure what to do next. Could we try a bit more structure or concrete tools, especially around my anxiety/ADHD?”

If you feel misunderstood:

“Sometimes I leave feeling like maybe I didn’t explain myself well, or like I’m not being fully understood. Could we slow down and check more that we’re on the same page?”

If a specific comment bothered you:

“When you said __ last session, I felt __. I know that might not have been your intention, but it made it harder for me to open up. Can we talk about that?”

If you’re considering switching:

“I really appreciate the time we’ve spent together. I’m starting to wonder if I might need a different style of support. Could we talk about whether we’re a good fit, and what my options are?”

You are not being rude by saying these things. You are literally doing therapy—being honest in a relationship and seeing what happens.

How a good therapist responds

A therapist who’s a decent fit might say things like:

• “Thank you for telling me that.”
• “I’m sorry that landed that way; let’s repair this.”
• “Let’s adjust how we’re working together.”
• “I agree another therapist might be a better fit—let me help you transition.”

If they get defensive, dismissive, or guilt-trip you (“Most of my clients don’t have an issue with this”), that’s more data that leaving might be the right move.

5. How to leave a therapist (without ghosting yourself)

You are allowed to end therapy. You don’t need a dramatic reason. “This isn’t working for me” is enough.

Steps to end respectfully (if you feel safe)

1. Decide your timing.
   You can:

   • Bring it up at the start of a session
   • Send a message ahead of time and use the session as a closing conversation
   • If you truly don’t feel safe, you can cancel and not return—your safety comes first

2. Use simple language.
   You don’t have to over-explain:

   “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided to pause therapy / look for a different therapist. I appreciate your time and support so far.”

3. Ask for referrals (optional).

   “Do you know any therapists who specialize in ADHD/anxiety/trauma/queer students that you’d recommend?”

4. Do a mini reflection.
   After, take 5 minutes to note:

   • What did I like about this therapist?
   • What didn’t work?
   • What do I want in my next support?

This is like pulling weeds and taking notes on what your garden actually needs next time—more shade, less water, different soil.

If you’re using campus counseling

Campus counseling can be amazing or chaotic, depending on the school. Some things to know:

• Many colleges limit sessions (e.g., 6–10 per semester).
• You can often request a different counselor if the first one isn’t a fit.
• If you’ve had a rough experience, you can bring it up with the center or ask for a different provider.

For more on making campus support work for you, you can check out our guide on using campus counseling services in a real way.

6. If you can’t afford therapy (or can’t do it right now)

Sometimes the problem isn’t just fit—it’s money, time, or energy. You might be thinking, “Cool, I’ll just find another therapist… with what money exactly?”

You still deserve support. There are therapy alternatives and lower-cost options, even if they’re not perfect.

Lower-cost paths to explore

Research shows that CBT skills—like noticing thoughts, changing behaviors, and practicing calming techniques—are especially helpful for anxiety and low mood (APA/CBT practice guides, 2022–2025; APA, 2023). Digital CBT-style tools have also been shown to help young people with anxiety (Csirmaz et al., 2024).

You can get pieces of that support even outside formal therapy.

Tiny therapy-alternative steps

Here are small, doable actions you can take even if you’re between therapists or can’t afford one:

1. Start a one-line mood journal.
   Each night, write:

   • “Today I felt __ because __.” This builds emotional awareness and gives you data you can bring to any future support.

2. Practice one grounding skill.
   When anxiety spikes:

   • Name 5 things you can see, 4 you can touch, 3 you can hear, 2 you can smell, 1 you can taste.
     It’s not magic, but it can pull you out of spirals for a moment.

3. Schedule one “wellbeing block” a week.
   20–30 minutes where the only rule is: do something that gently supports your emotional health.

   • Walk outside
   • Stretch with a YouTube video
   • Read a few pages of a book
   • Journal about one feeling

4. Use habit and mood trackers gently.
   Not as “productivity police,” but as a way to see small wins your brain might ignore. We talk more about this in our post on how journaling actually supports your wellbeing.

5. Lean on your support network in small ways.
   You don’t have to trauma-dump to ask for support. Try:

   • “Hey, I’m having a rough brain day. Can we study on Zoom together?”
   • “Can you remind me to eat lunch?”
   • “Can we walk around campus later? No heavy talk needed.”

These don’t replace therapy, but they do count as tending to yourself. Think of them as watering your garden between bigger rainstorms of support.

7. Building a support ecosystem

Instead of thinking “therapy or nothing,” it can help to picture your support like a layered garden:

• Deep-root plants: Things like therapy, long-term mentorship, or close relationships
• Smaller plants: Routines, journaling, movement, creative outlets
• Ground cover: Tiny daily habits—drinking water, going outside for 3 minutes, texting a friend

When one layer isn’t working (like a therapist who’s not a fit), the goal isn’t to burn down the whole garden. It’s to adjust that layer while still caring for the rest.

Combining supports in real life

Here’s how that might look for a college student with ADHD and anxiety:

• You decide to leave a therapist who made you feel judged.
• While you search for a new one (or wait on a list), you:
  • Use a wellness app for college students to track tiny habits and mood shifts
  • Practice one CBT-style skill from a digital program once a week
  • Set up a weekly “body double” study session with a friend for ADHD focus
  • Keep a short list of “emergency” tools for when anxiety spikes (breathing, grounding, texting someone safe)

None of these are all-or-nothing cures. But together, they create a web that can hold you while you figure out your next steps.

8. Conclusion: You’re allowed to seek better support

If your therapist isn’t the right fit, it doesn’t mean therapy “failed.” It means you gathered information about what doesn’t work for you—and that’s valuable.

You’re allowed to:

• Say, “This style doesn’t work for me.”
• Ask for changes in how sessions go.
• Switch to someone who better understands ADHD, anxiety, identity, or student life.
• Take a break and lean on therapy alternatives while you figure things out.

You deserve support that feels at least somewhat safe, respectful, and helpful—not perfect, but real. Like any garden, your wellbeing will go through seasons. Some seasons are about blooming; others are about pruning what no longer works and gently replanting.

If you want a soft place to track tiny actions, moods, and routines while you navigate all this, Melo Cares can help you tend to yourself one small step at a time—so you can see your progress, even on days your brain swears you’re going nowhere.

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Note: This article is for general information and support only. It’s not a substitute for professional care. If your emotions feel especially heavy or overwhelming, consider reaching out to a trusted adult, doctor, or counselor for more personalized help.