MONEY (want/need)

For me, this is a bit of a yucky topic—being paid to help people. It pokes at some deep stuff. I’ve always believed we help others because it’s the right thing to do. It’s about values, ethics, community. The reward is knowing you’ve made a difference—not necessarily what’s in your bank account at the end of the day (though let’s be honest, the bank doesn’t take moral satisfaction as mortgage payment).

In my past lives; as a health care officer in residential elderly care, a community education practitioner in local government and the charitable sector, I was paid a salary. Not rolling in riches, but enough. And with that came the reassuring bits: pension contributions, paid holidays, and actual sick pay (a luxury I didn’t appreciate enough at the time). I always went above and beyond, heart first, feet often running, but I can see now that this came with fuzzy boundaries. Noble? Maybe. Sustainable? Nope.

Now here I am again, in a helping profession only this time it’s private practice. I'm a sole trader (which sounds vaguely piratey but mostly just means I wear all the hats and make & drink all the coffee). I’m in mental health, a field I love, doing work that matters, but without the safety net. There’s no steady salary, no paid leave, no pension pot magically filling itself while I sleep. If I don’t work, I don’t earn. If I’m sick, the only thing accumulating is laundry.

You might be thinking: "But your rates are high!" And yes, on paper they might look that way and maybe in comparison with other people's incomes they are. But when you factor in tax, rent (I had to let go of my posh office this year because, I couldn't afford it), insurance, petrol, online platforms, marketing, licences, website upkeep, room hire, and the odd emergency biscuit stash—there’s not a lot left. I don’t contribute to a pension, and I’m not making a profit that would send anyone into shock or to the Bahamas.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not asking for sympathy (though a strong cup of coffee would be nice). I love what I do. I think I do it well. But I find it incredibly hard to charge for it. I rely on my website to handle payments, because honestly? It helps me keep that emotional distance. I run a well-used reduced fee programme for people who are in-work poverty, on benefits, or simply struggling financially. I do this gladly, but it has to sit alongside my own need to, well, keep the lights on.

There have been moments—plenty of them—when I’ve considered packing it all in and getting a job that’s less uncertain, less emotionally intense, less... everything. But as a neurodivergent person and carer, working for myself has huge benefits. I get to design how I work, set my own schedule, and be my own boss (which is both empowering and occasionally infuriating when I try to give myself time off and then ignore it).

Still, boundaries are tough. Clients sometimes don’t pay or want extra bits like free detailed reports, no-cost regular email therapeutic support, or gratis official support letters. Potential clients regularly ask for free intro sessions and lengthy phone chats. And I totally get where this comes from, therapy is intimate, it’s about trust, but it doesn’t mean it’s free to deliver.

I paid for my training. I pay for monthly supervision. I pay to be registered, insured, accountable, and competent. You wouldn’t expect a hairdresser to give you a free haircut just so you can decide if you like their vibe. But weirdly, that expectation does regularly pop up in therapy.

I’ve read comments online where people are outraged by being charged for counselling at all, especially upfront, or for missed sessions. But this is a profession that requires ongoing investment, financial, emotional, intellectual. And therapists, despite popular myths, also need to pay for heating.

If I worked for the NHS, I’d be paid. No questions asked. So I do sometimes wonder what is the mismatch? Why is it seen as strange or even shameful to be paid fairly for emotional/intellectual labour?

One thing that helps is being visible. I’ve built an online presence, so that people can get a flavour of who I am and the type of therapist I am before we ever speak. From TikTok videos to Instagram posts, to, well… this very blog you’re reading—I try to be accessible, open, and real. Because I know how important it is to feel a connection before making the leap.

All that to say: I believe in this work. I believe in doing it well. And I also believe it’s okay to be paid for it, even if my inner idealist still has to have the occasional quiet word with my inner accountant.

https://youtu.be/E-P2qL3qkzk?feature=share This video is my attempt as SATIRE "Some say Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, but I think Satire maybe a sign of humorous intelligence."

#mentalhealthmoney #therapistprivatepractice #chargingforcounselling #perspectives #pointofview