Have you ever wondered?

A Day in the Life of a Family Therapist (a.k.a. Professional Chaos Coordinator)

People often ask me, “What’s it like to be a family therapist?” My honest answer? Somewhere between being a peace negotiator, a part-time detective, and an emotional air traffic controller. And I love it. Truly.

So, here’s a peek behind the curtain a not-too-serious, mostly-accurate look at a day in my life as a family therapist:

8:00 AM – Coffee & Calm Before the Storm

Therapists are not magical unicorns who float into work on beams of emotional serenity. We need coffee. Maybe two. I spend this quiet time mentally preparing for the day: reviewing notes, setting intentions, and reminding myself that kids might say wild things today (again).

9:00 AM – Let the Sessions Begin

The day kicks off with back-to-back family sessions. Sometimes I’m helping parents navigate tantrums (theirs or the kids’, it’s usually both), other times I’m helping teens feel heard without rolling their eyes too hard. Every family is different, but one thing is always true: communication is a skill, not a given. And yes, I do have a collection of therapy games, whiteboard markers, and a deeply practised poker face.

11:30 AM – Sibling Mediation, Round 42

“Why did you hit your brother with a spoon?”

“He looked at me weird.”

Therapy gold. This is where we learn conflict resolution, boundaries, and how to use our words even if they’re shouted across a couch fort. (Spoiler: they’re almost always shouted.)

12:30 PM – Lunchtime Refuel & Mini Existential Crisis

I grab a quick bite, usually something cold, because I forgot it on my desk while writing case notes. I may or may not stare into the middle distance, wondering why 6-year-olds are better at setting boundaries than most adults. But I digress.

1:30 PM – Parent Coaching & Reality Checks

The afternoon often brings parent-focused sessions. We talk about expectations, guilt, screens, snacks, and bedtime routines that turn into hostage negotiations. I help parents drop the perfectionism and embrace “good enough” parenting because “perfect” isn’t real, and everyone has hidden snack wrappers in the car at some point.

3:00 PM – Teen Time

Teenagers are my favourite emotional puzzles. One minute it’s silence, the next it’s a deep dive into identity, friendships, or school stress. I meet them where they’re at, sometimes literally on the floor. They might say therapy is “low-key helpful” (which is high praise), and I’ll take it.

4:30 PM – Admin, Emails, and Remembering I’m Also a Person

Notes, referrals, snack number four. I respond to emails and prep for tomorrow, knowing I’ll hear at least one dad joke, one Minecraft reference, and one dramatic sigh in the next 24 hours.

6:00 PM – Transition to Real Life (aka Mom, Partner, Human)

I head home to my own family, where I try not to therapise anyone (but sometimes catch myself asking my own kids, “How did that make you feel?”). We laugh, eat dinner, and I remind myself that no family is perfectly functional, including mine, and that’s OK.

In Conclusion

Being a family therapist means embracing the mess, the laughter, the tears, and the total unpredictability of people who love each other but sometimes forget how to show it. It’s an honour, a challenge, and occasionally a comedy show.

If your family feels like a beautiful disaster, sometimes guess what? You’re normal. Therapy isn’t about “fixing” people. It’s about helping families connect, communicate, and grow (with or without spoon battles).

Thanks for reading, and feel free to share this with someone who needs a smile or who’s raising a tiny lawyer in a Spider-Man costume.

With warmth (and caffeine),

Your Friendly Family Therapist