
Avoiding Ghost Ships, Guiding Through Storms, and Cultivating Meaningful Growth
The Tale of Three Metaphors (and One Ghost Ship)
Let’s be real for a second: Therapy isn’t just about showing up, sitting in a cozy chair, and channeling your inner wise sage. Nope. Behind the scenes, there’s an entire ecosystem: marketing, onboarding, building rapport, setting goals, navigating emotions, and (ideally) saying graceful goodbyes.
But what happens when clients start slipping through your fingers faster than you can say, “Let’s explore that”? When your client bucket starts leaking, all those hours spent marketing, responding to inquiries, and onboarding start to feel… well, like time you’ll never get back.
So today, we’re breaking down the client journey—a tale told in three acts: Fishing, Lighthouse, and Garden.
– We’ll talk about what works.
– We’ll highlight where the leaks often spring up.
– And we’ll laugh (a little) because sometimes, you have to laugh when someone ghost-books six appointments and then vanishes into the therapeutic void.
Oh, and yes—we’ll meet the Ghost Ship of Therapy Drift, a haunting presence that steals clients away mid-journey.
Therapy is a journey across unpredictable waters—there’s the excitement of the first catch, the steady light guiding through storms, and the quiet growth of a tended garden. Let’s dive in.
Act 1: Fishing – From Inquiry to First Session
Ah, the thrill of the nibble. A potential client finds your profile, reads your “I’m a warm-yet-firm therapist who integrates ACT, CBT, and probably some other acronyms” bio, and—gasp—they reach out.
But here’s the thing: Fishing isn’t just about casting your line. It’s about what happens when the fish bites.
The Nibble: Inquiry Stage
When a potential client sends you that initial email (or, let’s be honest, a very brief “Hi, do you take insurance?” message), the clock starts ticking.
– Response Time Matters: If your reply is slower than a sloth on a Sunday stroll, they’ve probably moved on to the next therapist.
– Tone Matters: Are you warm, inviting, and clear? Or do you sound like a therapy robot preloaded with stock responses?
Pro Tip: Have an auto-response ready, but make it good. Like, “Thanks for reaching out! I’m so glad you did. I’ll respond in detail soon, but in the meantime, here’s my availability…”
The Hook: Intake & First Session
Once they’re in the proverbial boat (read: first session booked), it’s your time to shine.
– Yes, paperwork matters.
– Yes, gathering history matters.
– But rapport-building outweighs everything in Session One.
If your first session feels like they’re being interviewed by an insurance adjuster, don’t be surprised if they swim away before Session Two.
Self-Check: Are you balancing paperwork and presence? Do clients feel seen and understood in those first moments?
Where the Leaks Might Happen:
– Slow or impersonal responses.
– Overwhelm from intake paperwork.
– Clients feeling unsure about therapy goals after Session One.
If you sense hesitation, address it directly. “Hey, I noticed some uncertainty today. Is there anything we can adjust to make this space feel more comfortable for you?”
Boom. You’ve just added an extra layer of glue to that bucket.
Reflective Question: Fishing: “What signals do you send in your intake process that build—or disrupt—trust with clients?”
Act 2: The Lighthouse – Guiding Through the Storm
Once clients are in the boat, your job is to guide them—through choppy seas, still waters, and yes, occasional fog banks where neither of you can see the shore. The light of a lighthouse comes from within—it requires regular tending, clarity, and self-awareness from the therapist.
The Steady Beam: Consistency is Everything
Clients need to know what to expect—both in you and in the process. Are sessions consistent? Are you showing up as your authentic self every time?
Therapist Truth Bomb: Clients can feel it when you’re mentally drafting your grocery list during their monologue.
The Fog: When Things Get Messy
Therapy isn’t linear. Sometimes clients hit resistance, sessions feel stagnant, or emotions spill over like a cappuccino on a wobbly café table.
– Do you lean into the discomfort with curiosity?
– Or do you shuffle the conversation to safer ground (“So, how’s work been?”)?
Storms in therapy are part of the process. The lighthouse doesn’t panic when waves crash—it keeps shining.
Where the Leaks Might Happen:
– Clients feel “lost at sea” without clear direction.
– Progress isn’t reflected back to them regularly.
– Resistance or avoidance isn’t addressed directly.
If a client starts to drift, gently pull them back: “I’ve noticed some hesitation lately. Is something feeling off in our work together?”
Reflective Question: Lighthouse: “What do you notice about your presence during stormy sessions?”
Act 2.5: The Ghost Ship – When Clients Drift Away
But what happens when the lighthouse beam flickers, and a mysterious fog begins to roll in? Enter: the Ghost Ship. Ah, the Ghost Ship of Therapy Drift—a creaky, fog-covered vessel captained by unmet expectations, therapy fatigue, and the alluring myth of a “better fit.” You’ve likely felt its eerie presence before: a client who seemed engaged, nodded thoughtfully at your well-timed metaphors, and then… poof. Gone.
But not just gone—they’ve boarded another therapist’s ship.
This isn’t about clients leaving therapy entirely (which is valid and sometimes necessary). No, this is about clients quietly slipping through the ropes, eyes fixed on a distant horizon where they hope the waters will feel calmer.
So let’s step into the fog and see if we can shed some light.
Why Clients Board the Ghost Ship
The Ghost Ship doesn’t just appear—it’s summoned by internal whispers and external nudges. Clients might feel:
The Siren Song of a ‘Better Fit’:
“Maybe another therapist will feel more structured… softer… or won’t ask about my childhood quite so much.”
Instant Gratification Gremlins:
“Why am I not feeling better yet? Shouldn’t something have clicked by now?”
Unspoken Expectations:
“I thought therapy would feel like homework and worksheets, but instead, we’re… talking?”
Shopping Around Mentality:
In a world where returns are as easy as clicking ‘refund,’ some clients treat therapy the same way.
Fear of Vulnerability:
Just as the waves start to deepen, some clients feel the urge to bail. Vulnerability is uncomfortable, and avoiding it feels easier than leaning in.
It’s rarely one reason—more often, it’s a blend of murky waters and unmet needs.
How the Ghost Ship Approaches
The drift is rarely loud. Instead, it creeps in with the subtlety of a morning fog:
Appointments are canceled or rescheduled more frequently.
Sessions start to feel surface-level and distant.
Clients bring less and less into the space.
A faint sense of disengagement settles in.
And sometimes… you can feel it. That shift. That pull towards the horizon.
Steering Through the Fog
The goal isn’t to tie clients to the mast (ethically questionable, logistically messy). It’s to notice the drift, adjust your sails, and—when possible—keep them anchored in the therapeutic space.
Set Clear Expectations Early:
Therapy isn’t a quick fix; it’s slow, layered, and deeply meaningful work. Be transparent about that from the start.
– “Therapy often starts slow, especially when we’re building trust. But in this slowness, we lay the groundwork for real change. Does that feel clear to you?”
Name the Drift:
Sometimes, you can feel when a client’s packing their bags. Name it—gently, without judgment.
– “I’ve noticed some hesitation in our sessions. Are you feeling unsure about continuing our work together?”
Validate Without Placating:
Acknowledge their frustration while holding space for reality.
– “It makes sense to want faster results. Therapy can feel frustrating when change isn’t immediate. But I believe we’re on the right track.”
Make a Plan for the Murky Middle:
When clients hit the plateau, address it head-on. Reflect any progress you’ve noticed, no matter how small.
– “I know it might not feel like huge change yet, but I’ve noticed you setting boundaries in ways you weren’t before. Does that resonate with you?”
Sometimes, these conversations bring clients back to the deck, steadier and more committed. And sometimes… they don’t.
When the Ghost Ship Sails Anyway
Here’s the hard truth: sometimes, despite your best efforts, the ropes slip loose, the fog rolls in, and the client drifts away.
But their departure doesn’t mean failure. Every session planted a seed. Every conversation left ripples.
When this happens:
Reflect, but Don’t Ruminate:
Ask yourself if there were missed signals or unmet needs. Learn, adjust, and let go.
Hold Space for Return:
Some clients will come back. And if they do, greet them without an ounce of judgment.
– “I’m glad to see you again. How can we make this round of therapy feel more aligned for you?”
The Truth About the Ghost Ship
Here’s the thing about drifting clients: they might board another therapist’s ship and find themselves… facing the same patterns.
Because therapy isn’t about which boat you’re on. It’s about the willingness to weather the waves.
Sometimes clients realize that. Sometimes they don’t. And that’s okay.
Your role isn’t to chase the ship or blame yourself for the fog. It’s to make sure that, while they were with you, you showed up with clarity, care, and a steady light.
Therapist Takeaway: Keep Shining Your Light
The Ghost Ship of Therapy Drift will always be out there, haunting the horizon. Some clients will drift away, and you won’t always understand why.
But your job isn’t to stop every departure—it’s to create a therapeutic space so grounded, so steady, that if they ever need to drop anchor again, they’ll know your light is still shining.
Because sometimes, they will. And sometimes, they won’t.
Either way, you’ve done your part.
Now, take a breath, adjust your sails, and prepare for the next wave.
Reflective Question: “How do you hold space for clients who drift away while also holding space for your own feelings about their departure?”
Act 3: The Garden – Growth, Integration, and Farewell
Congratulations, your client made it to shore! Therapy goals are in sight, and growth is happening. This is the part where the real magic starts: integration, reflection, and… sometimes… saying goodbye.
Planting Seeds: Building Independence
By this stage, clients should be able to use the tools you’ve worked on together. Are they feeling empowered to navigate challenges outside of sessions?
Tending the Soil: Checking In
Therapy isn’t a straight line. Sometimes clients need reminders of how far they’ve come. Reflecting on progress can feel like watering a thirsty plant—it’s essential for continued growth. Therapy endings aren’t failures—they’re often gentle transitions, leaving clients with tools, insights, and seeds that continue to grow long after your final session.
Some seeds take root long after clients have sailed away. Growth doesn’t always happen on our timeline, but the garden still blooms.
Therapist Tip: Celebrate small wins. “I noticed how you handled that boundary conversation—does that feel like a shift for you?”
The Harvest: Ending Well
– Are you preparing clients for the end of therapy?
– Have you normalized that endings are a natural part of the process?
Pro Tip: Bring up the topic of endings well before they’re on the horizon. “I want to start thinking about how we’ll wrap up our work together when the time feels right.”
Where the Leaks Might Happen:
– Clients aren’t prepared for the idea of therapy ending.
– There’s a lack of closure or clarity about what comes next.
Reflective Question: Garden: “How do you prepare clients—and yourself—for therapy endings?”
The Compass: Staying Centered in the Work
Your internal compass keeps you steady when the waves get rough.
Reflection Prompts:
– What values guide your therapeutic approach?
– How do you stay connected to your compass during uncertain times?
Cast, Guide, Grow
Keep your nets sturdy, your lighthouse beams bright, and your gardens thriving.
“Therapists, take a breath, grab your compass, and come back to this guide anytime. The waters of therapy are rarely still, but oh, are they worth sailing.”
Want more musings, metaphors, and therapist wisdom? Stick around—we’ve got more tides to sail, storms to weather, and gardens to tend. You’re in good company here.
There you have it—The Garden is back, thriving and fully integrated. 🌱✨
Now go forth, therapist sailor, and may your nets stay sturdy and your ghost ships few. Your job isn’t to control every wave or prevent every drift. It’s to keep casting your net, shining your light, and tending your garden. And that, dear therapist, is enough.
Written by Jen Hyatt, a licensed psychotherapist at Storm Haven Counseling & Wellness in Temecula, California.
Disclaimer: The information provided in this blog post is for educational and informational purposes only and should not be considered as professional mental health advice.






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