Let’s talk about therapy goals. Not the kind you scribble down to appease insurance, but the kind that actually help a person—yes, a real, complicated, beautiful human—find movement inside the mess.

Let’s be real for a second—goal setting in therapy sounds simple on paper. Somewhere in grad school, we were all handed worksheets and told to help clients create SMART goals: specific, measurable, achievable… blah blah blah.

But here’s what those handouts didn’t prepare us for:

The exhausted client curled up on your couch (or staring blankly at you on Zoom) saying, “I don’t know… I just want to feel normal again.”

Or the teenager slouched in your chair, headphones half in, muttering, “I just wanna not feel like this anymore.”

Or the high-achieving adult who’s done Every Single Therapy Modality™ already, looking at you with that mix of hope and lowkey resentment like, “Please fix me. But also… I dare you to try.”

Goal setting, in the actual therapy room, is messy. It’s emotional. It’s layered with trauma history, defense mechanisms, ambivalence, and about ten thousand invisible barriers that don’t fit neatly into any treatment plan template.

And yet… goals still matter.

Because therapy isn’t just about talking (though don’t get me wrong, I love a good ramble session as much as the next clinician). Therapy is about helping the human in front of us reconnect with their sense of agency. It’s about moving toward something—not because we’re ignoring their pain, but because we’re honoring their capacity to live alongside it.

This blog post isn’t going to hand you some perfectly clinical, jargon-heavy flowchart for treatment planning. You’ve got enough of those already buried in your Google Drive somewhere.

Instead, think of this as a conversation between therapist friends. A little humor. A little honesty. And hopefully, a few questions and reframes you can pocket for the next time a client says, “I just want to feel better.”

Because spoiler alert: They’re not a problem to fix.

And neither are you.

Emotional Goals: The Natural Starting Point for Most Clients

Let’s go ahead and normalize it: most people don’t walk into therapy saying,

“Hi, I’m here to cultivate values-based behavioral activation in alignment with my long-term goals.”

Nah. They say things like:

“I just want to stop feeling this way.”

“I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“I just want to feel normal again.”

And honestly? Same.

Emotional goals are where the majority of clients begin, and that’s not a flaw. It’s not resistance. It’s not a clinical red flag. It’s… human.

Because when you’re hurting—whether it’s grief, anxiety, burnout, heartbreak, trauma, or just the existential dread of being a person in the world—what you want, more than anything, is relief. That’s survival talking. It’s the nervous system waving its little white flag, asking, “Can we please not feel like garbage today?”

So of course clients come in wanting to feel better. That’s not a bad place to start. It just can’t be the only place we stay.

Here’s where it gets tricky for us as therapists: if we’re not careful, we might accidentally co-sign the “feel better = be better” equation. And then? We end up reinforcing the very cycle we’re trying to help our clients untangle—one where emotional discomfort is seen as a failure rather than just… a part of being alive.

🌀 Anxiety’s still here? Therapy must not be working.

🌀 Grief popped up again? Guess we’re back at square one.

🌀 Still have hard days? Ugh. Broken forever, obviously.

You see the trap, right?

So the invitation here—gentle, but firm—is to start where they are (“I want to feel better”) but steer toward where we’re going (“What do you want to do, even if you don’t feel better right away?”). That shift matters. It’s where empowerment lives. It’s where clients start to realize that feelings don’t have to dictate their every choice.

Mini Metaphor Moment: The Weather Channel Brain

I sometimes use this with clients (and in supervision):

Imagine your emotions are like a 24-hour weather channel running in the background of your mind. You don’t control the forecast—storms roll in, sometimes out of nowhere. But you still get to decide if you go outside with an umbrella, cancel your plans, or dance in the rain anyway.

Therapy isn’t about turning off the weather—it’s about building the tools to live, work, and love even when the skies are cloudy.

Therapist-to-Therapist Note:

If you’ve got a client who’s stuck in emotional goal territory (and let’s be honest, we all do), your job isn’t to bulldoze them into “action.” Your job is to hold compassionate space for the pain while gently widening the lens. Ask things like:

• “If these feelings eased up even just a bit… what would become more possible in your life?”
  
• “If you didn’t have to spend so much energy managing this emotion, what would you do with that energy?”
  
• “What do you want to move toward—even if the anxiety tags along for the ride?”
  

You don’t need to fix the feeling. You just need to stay present enough to help them reclaim their ‘do.’

Reframing Emotional Goals into Behavioral Goals (Without Losing Empathy)

Okay, so your client has just said the sacred phrase:

“I just want to feel better.”

And maybe part of you—the trained, seasoned therapist part—wants to softly pivot them toward something more actionable.

But the human part of you is thinking:

“Honestly, same.”

This is the dance. How do we honor emotional pain (because it’s real and valid and not just “symptoms”) while still helping our client shift from how they want to feel to what they want to do?

First, Let’s Acknowledge the Fear

Clients often fear that if they stop chasing the emotional goal, they’re giving up. That if they learn to live with hard feelings, they’re somehow settling. So before we jump into reframes, let’s pause and validate the very real grief in letting go of the idea that they’ll wake up one day and suddenly feel nothing uncomfortable ever again.

(This isn’t Inside Out—we don’t get to eject Sadness from the control panel.)

So, we don’t bulldoze. We shift gently, like a therapist ninja in comfy shoes.

Let’s Look at a Few Common Emotional Goals and How We Might Reframe Them

❖ Emotional Goal: 

“I just want to stop feeling this way.”

🗣 Therapist reframe:

“Totally fair. These feelings are exhausting. What if part of our work together is learning ways to carry those feelings with a little more ease—so they don’t run the show?”

❖ Emotional Goal: 

“I want to feel happy/confident/calm/in love/etc.”

🗣 Therapist reframe:

“Sounds like there’s a part of you that’s missing that experience. Let’s think together about what helps you feel more connected to that—are there any actions, relationships, or practices that support that feeling, even a little?”

❖ Emotional Goal (with resistance): 

“I don’t want to learn to live with it—I want it gone.”

🗣 Therapist reframe:

“I hear that. No one wants to keep carrying this. But if we could figure out how to stop it from hijacking your life—even if it’s still in the background—would that be a step worth exploring?”

This isn’t about false hope. It’s about shifting from outcome-dependency to skill-building. From waiting to feel ready to moving even if you’re not.

Micro Story from the Couch

Let’s take a client I’ll call Jamie. Jamie came to therapy saying she wanted to “stop feeling like a burden” to her family. Every reframe I offered about skill-building or behavior change got shutdown with, “That won’t matter if I still feel worthless.”

So instead of pushing her toward “doing,” I asked:

“What would be different about your day if you didn’t feel like a burden?”

Her response? “I’d probably start texting my sister again. Maybe even go to dinner if they invited me.”

Boom. That’s a behavioral goal wrapped in a worthiness wound. From there, we could work with it. Not by pretending the wound was healed, but by asking:

“What would it look like to show up—even with the feeling tagging along?”

Quick Note on Language (Because Words Matter)

When reframing, avoid therapist-y phrases like “let’s operationalize that” (unless your client is super into psych terms). Stick with stuff like:

• “What would we see you doing differently?”
  
• “What might change in your day-to-day?”
  
• “What’s one small thing that would feel like movement?”
  

Behavioral goals don’t have to be grand. They just have to be possible. And preferably not contingent on everything feeling perfect first.

When you lead with empathy and curiosity—and let the client know you’re not trying to erase their feelings—you earn trust. And with trust, you can do the real work: helping them reconnect with agency, one gentle action at a time.

The “Dead Person’s Goals” Trap (And How to Pivot Gently)

Okay, friends. Time to talk about a favorite ACT gem that sounds a little… morbid at first blush.

The dead person’s goal.

Here’s the gist: If a goal could be achieved better by a corpse, it’s probably not the most helpful goal for your living, breathing client. A dead person doesn’t yell at their kids. A dead person doesn’t procrastinate. A dead person doesn’t feel anxious, get triggered, doomscroll, or cry in the Trader Joe’s parking lot because they forgot their reusable bags again.

(Unless you’re a zombie. In which case, all bets are off.)

But you know what else a dead person doesn’t do?

Grow. Connect. Choose. Show up.

So when clients say:

• “I just want to stop being anxious.”
  
• “I want to never binge again.”
  
• “I want to stop feeling angry all the time.”
  
• “I don’t want to cry anymore.”
  

…it sounds like they’re describing progress, but what they’re actually describing is the absence of life. And we’re in the business of supporting aliveness—not erasure.

But—and this part is key—we do not say to the client, “Well, actually, that sounds like a dead person’s goal.”

(Unless your client is deeply into gallows humor and you’ve got that kind of rapport. In that case, carry on. Just don’t quote me when your supervisor raises an eyebrow.)

How to Pivot Out of the Dead Zone (Without Sounding Like a Jerk)

Here’s the move: we hear what they don’t want… and we gently ask what they do want to move toward.

Let’s look at a few examples.

❖ Client says: 

“I don’t want to be so reactive with my partner.”

🗣 Therapist:

“Got it. If that reactivity eased up, how would your relationship look different? What would we see you doing instead during conflict?”

❖ Client says: 

“I want to stop having panic attacks.”

🗣 Therapist:

“Understandable. Panic attacks are terrifying. If they weren’t happening, what would become possible again? What would you be doing that panic is currently getting in the way of?”

❖ Client says: 

“I just want to stop thinking about what happened.”

🗣 Therapist:

“That makes a lot of sense—it sounds like those thoughts have been taking up a lot of space. If they weren’t dominating your day, where would you want to place your energy instead?”

We’re not invalidating the desire to feel relief. We’re just not basing the entire therapy plan around silence, absence, or avoidance. Living goals mean we’re anchoring into what’s possible, even when the feelings come along for the ride.

Micro-Metaphor: The Car Ride with Panic

I often describe this to clients:

Imagine you’re driving toward something important—maybe a life that feels meaningful, or just being able to go to the grocery store without spiraling. Panic shows up in the passenger seat. You don’t have to love that it’s there. But instead of pulling over or handing it the wheel, you learn how to keep driving while it mutters about doom and disaster. That’s a living person’s goal: still moving, even when discomfort shows up.

Therapist Reflection Time:

Sometimes we collude with dead person’s goals out of our own discomfort. We really want our clients to feel better—and fast. But if we start reinforcing avoidance as success, we risk making life smaller, not bigger.

So we ask ourselves:

• “Am I helping my client build a life, or just avoid their pain?”
  
• “Is this goal about vitality, or just silence?”
  

And when in doubt, steer toward doing. Doing is where agency lives.

Outcome Goals: From “What I Want to Get” to “What I Want to Do”

Let’s be honest: outcome goals are kind of the gateway drug of therapy. They show up early, they sound important, and they give everyone that false sense of control we crave in a chaotic world.

Clients come in with:

• “I want to find a partner.”
  
• “I need a better job.”
  
• “I just want my kid to stop melting down at bedtime.”
  
• “If I could just lose 20 pounds, everything else would fall into place.”
  

And look, these are understandable wants. Some of them are deeply rooted in values. Others are soaked in cultural conditioning and survival strategies. Either way, it’s not our job to pathologize the wanting.

But it is our job to help clients shift from chasing outcomes they can’t fully control… to identifying the actions they can take that line up with who they want to be.

Because outcome goals are kind of like online shopping: they’re full of promise, low on certainty, and usually take longer than expected to arrive. In therapy, if we camp out in outcome territory too long, we end up frustrated, helpless, or stuck in wishful thinking loops.

So What’s the Move?

Validate the desire. Normalize the hope.

Then ask:

“What’s in your control that moves you in the direction of that hope, whether or not the outcome arrives when you want it to?”

Let’s break a few down.

❖ Outcome Goal: 

“I want a healthy romantic relationship.”

🗣 Therapist reframe:

“Absolutely. Let’s talk about what kinds of things you might do to move toward that. What does being ‘ready for a relationship’ look like in your daily life? Are there ways we could help you feel more confident or connected, even before someone enters the picture?”

❖ Outcome Goal: 

“I want my kid to stop acting out.”

🗣 Therapist reframe:

“I hear that—it’s exhausting. Since we can’t control every reaction they have, let’s focus on what you can do. What kind of parent do you want to be in those moments? What actions feel aligned with your values—even if your kid is still melting down in aisle five?”

❖ Outcome Goal: 

“I want to lose weight.”

🗣 Therapist reframe (body-neutral lens):

“There’s clearly something you’re craving that feels tied to this goal—maybe more energy, more peace in your body, or just feeling more in control. Let’s talk about ways to nourish or care for your body in ways that feel sustainable, no matter what the scale says.”

The Outcome Illusion

Clients often believe that once the outcome happens, then they’ll feel better.

“If I get the job, I’ll feel confident.”

“Once I’m in a relationship, I won’t feel so lonely.”

“When I finally get closure, I’ll be able to move on.”

But therapists know: outcomes are fickle. They arrive with their own baggage, their own stressors, their own emotional hangovers.

That’s why we focus on behavioral goals that are values-aligned and internally driven—things clients can do with or without a guaranteed result.

Micro Story: The Job That Didn’t Save the Day

A client once told me, “If I just get out of this toxic job, I’ll feel like myself again.”

We worked for months on self-worth, boundaries, stress management, and preparing to leave. She landed a better job. A month in? She still felt anxious, still doubted herself, still struggled to speak up in meetings.

The lesson wasn’t that the goal was wrong—it was that the outcome alone couldn’t create internal change. But the actions she practiced along the way? Those were gold. She could bring them anywhere.

Therapist Tip: Stay Curious, Not Controlling

When clients bring you an outcome goal, ask with compassion:

• “What would it mean to you if that happened?”
  
• “What would we see you doing differently if you reached that goal?”
  
• “Is there anything you want to start doing now, even while that goal is still in progress?”
  

We’re not dream crushers. We’re dream re-translators—helping clients move from fantasy to function, from hope to habits.

Insight Goals: Learning Without Getting Stuck in Analysis Paralysis

Let’s talk about a fan favorite in therapy: the insight goal.

You know the ones:

• “I need to figure out why I’m like this.”
  
• “I want to understand why I keep dating the same kind of person.”
  
• “If I could just uncover what’s wrong with me, I’d finally be able to move on.”
  

Ah yes, the siren song of insight. As therapists, we love a good “aha!” moment. A well-timed connection between past and present? Chef’s kiss. But here’s the thing:

Insight alone is not change.

You can fully understand the origins of your people-pleasing and still say yes to things that drain you.

You can draw a stunning genogram of intergenerational trauma and still pick fights with your partner the exact same way your mom did.

You can trace your fear of failure back to your fifth-grade teacher and still avoid applying for that job.

Insight without action is just a very intelligent standstill.

So What Do We Do With Insight Goals?

First, we normalize the need for understanding. The human brain is a meaning-making machine. It wants a story. It wants to know why this hurts, why we’re stuck, why it keeps happening.

We just don’t let that become the only thing on the therapy menu.

We shift gently from the “why” to the “what now.”

Therapist Reframes for Insight Goals

❖ Client says: 

“I want to understand why I keep doing this.”

🗣 Therapist:

“Totally fair—patterns can be frustrating. Let’s get curious together. And as we explore that, let’s also keep an eye on what you’d want to do differently, even before you fully ‘figure it out.’ What could be one step toward change, even in the mystery?”

❖ Client says: 

“I need to figure out what’s wrong with me.”

🗣 Therapist:

“Oof, that’s a painful lens to be looking through. What if we explored not just what’s wrong, but also what’s hurting? And while we do that, we can start exploring how to care for that pain—what actions might feel like tending, not just understanding.”

❖ Client says: 

“I just want to discover who I really am.”

🗣 Therapist:

“That’s a big, beautiful question. And while we’re unpacking that together, what if you started doing small things that feel like the ‘you’ you’re hoping to find? Sometimes we meet ourselves through our choices, not just our insight.”

Metaphor Break: The Couch with No Legs

Imagine insight is a gorgeous velvet couch. It’s elegant, deep, well-worn with wisdom. But without legs—without action—it just… sits there. Looks great. But you can’t move it anywhere. You can’t sit on it comfortably. You can’t use it to rest.

Action is the framework that lets insight become a resting place, not just a concept.

For Therapists in the Room: Watch for the Insight Loop

You’ll know you’re stuck in the loop when:

• Sessions keep circling the same story without movement.
  
• You feel smart, but not helpful.
  
• Your client says, “I know what I should be doing… I just can’t do it.”
  

That’s your cue to gently steer toward practice.

Try:

• “If you had that insight, what would you want to do with it?”
  
• “What would change in how you show up if this made more sense to you?”
  
• “Is there something you’d be willing to try—even if we don’t have the full story yet?”
  

Because here’s the deal: growth doesn’t wait for perfect clarity. It starts when we’re willing to act with a little uncertainty, a little wobble, and a whole lot of compassion.

Practical Tools for Goal-Setting Conversations (With Human-Centered Scripts)

By now, you’ve probably noticed that goal-setting in therapy isn’t just a box you check in session one and never revisit. It’s more like gardening: messy, seasonal, and full of wild surprises. Some clients come in with a tangled thicket of goals. Others arrive with… absolutely nothing planted. Just dirt and a vague hope that something will bloom.

So what do we reach for when we’re trying to help clients move from “I don’t know” to “I think I want to…,” without sounding like we’re reading from a treatment manual?

We use questions. But not just any questions—we use curious, human, values-anchored, zero-pressure invitations to explore what matters.

Here are a few tools (no laminate required) that work beautifully in-session:

🪄 The Magic Wand Reframe (Reimagined)

You’ve heard this one before—but let’s freshen it up.

“Let’s say a tiny bit of magic happened overnight. The feelings you’ve been struggling with? They’re still around, but they no longer stop you from living your life. What would be different? What would you start doing again? What would you show up for?”

Why it works:

It bypasses the emotional dead-end of “I just want to stop feeling this way” and invites movement. Not perfection. Not performance. Just possibility.

🎥 The Seven-Day Documentary Question

This one’s gold for clients who say, “I don’t really know what I want to get out of therapy.”

“Imagine a documentary team followed you around for a week right now. And then they followed you again six months into our work together. What would we see that’s different? What would you be doing more of—or less of? What would people around you notice?”

Why it works:

It brings abstract change into concrete focus. Plus, most clients enjoy imagining themselves as the slightly awkward star of their own Netflix special.

🧭 Values Compass Check-In

Sometimes clients struggle with goals because they’ve never really asked themselves what they care about beyond not suffering.

Try this:

“If you had to name a few qualities or values you want to be guided by—especially when life feels hard—what comes to mind? Kindness? Growth? Courage? Connection? And what’s one small thing you could do this week that moves you in that direction?”

Why it works:

It shifts therapy from problem-solving to meaning-making, from symptom reduction to purpose-driven action. Even one tiny step toward a value is a win.

🔧 Skill-Building as a Behavioral Goal

This one’s for the client who says: “I don’t want to do anything differently. I just want to stop feeling this way.”

Instead of pushing, offer this:

“Would it feel okay if one of our goals was to build some tools together—so that when hard thoughts or feelings show up, they don’t take over everything? Not to get rid of them, but to make more room for your life.”

Why it works:

This frames therapy as an active, collaborative process and reinforces self-efficacy over symptom control. Clients don’t have to change everything—they just need to learn how to handle the storms a little better.

🛠 Therapist-to-Therapist Script Remix

Here are a few extra phrases you can keep in your back pocket (or your head, or your sticky notes on the side of your monitor):

• “If this started to shift, what would become more possible in your life?”
  
• “What does relief look like in your day-to-day—not just how it feels?”
  
• “What’s one action that might move you even one inch closer to the life you want, even if it feels awkward or hard?”
  
• “Is there something your future self would thank you for trying this week?”
  

Reminder: You Don’t Have to Rush the Goal

Sometimes the most therapeutic thing you can do is pause. Let the goal emerge organically. Some clients need safety before strategy. Others need to grieve before goal-set. You’re not falling behind. You’re doing it right.

Because setting goals in therapy isn’t about getting clients to do more. It’s about helping them connect with what matters—and take steps (even wobbly ones) toward that life.

A Takeaway for Your Next Session (or Supervision Chat)

Sometimes it helps to have the words right in front of you—especially when a client hits you with, “I don’t know what I want… I just don’t want to feel this way anymore,” and your brain momentarily exits the building.

To make things easier, I’ve created a printable, human-centered goal-setting guide with reframes, reflection prompts, and therapist scripts you can use in-session or share in supervision. No jargon. No rigid templates. Just practical language that helps you hold space while nudging toward clarity.

Grab the handout here and keep it close by for those “what now?” moments:

👉 You can adapt, personalize, scribble in the margins—whatever helps you stay connected to your client while still gently steering toward what matters.

Therapist Reflection: Holding Both Validation and Movement

Let’s talk about the art of sitting in the tension between two truths:

1. Your client is in pain.
   
2. They still get to move toward something meaningful.
   

That balance—of witness and guide, of compassion and clarity—isn’t always graceful. Sometimes it feels like you’re walking a tightrope in Crocs, trying to validate someone’s suffering without getting pulled into the quicksand of it.

You’ve probably been there. A client shares something raw and heavy, and your whole nervous system wants to respond with warmth. You say the right thing. They feel seen. They exhale.

And then… they say the same thing again next week.

And the week after.

And the week after that.

You start wondering:

“Am I doing enough?”

“Are we stuck?”

“Am I afraid to push too hard?”

Spoiler: you’re not alone. Therapists often wrestle with this invisible pressure to either fix it all or never suggest change at all—like there are only two roles available: therapeutic Buddha or motivational drill sergeant.

But here’s your permission slip: You get to be both warm and directional. Both validating and forward-looking. Both soft and bold.

Holding Space Without Holding People Back

You’re allowed to name the pattern.

You’re allowed to ask, “Do you want to stay here a little longer, or are you ready to start looking at what could be next?”

You’re allowed to say, “I wonder what this part of you that’s afraid to move forward might need from us today.”

Clients often don’t need a push. They need a companion who believes they can take a step, even when it feels hard. And sometimes that step looks like goal-setting, even in the tiniest way.

Therapist Reflection Prompts

Here’s where we get honest with ourselves—gently, but with integrity.

• 🌀 Am I prioritizing comfort over growth?
  
• 🌀 Where am I hesitating to ask about goals because I don’t want to disrupt rapport?
  
• 🌀 Do I feel like I’m failing if the client isn’t “making progress”?
  
• 🌀 Where am I reinforcing stuckness by avoiding action altogether?
  
• 🌀 Am I modeling courage and curiosity—or playing it safe with the familiar?
  

These aren’t gotcha questions. They’re invitations to pause and check your own alignment—because therapists are human, too. And sometimes our fear of being too much or not enough gets in the way of helping the person in front of us take the next brave step.

Closing This Section with Grace

You don’t have to be perfect at this.

You’re not a self-help vending machine.

You’re a human being offering presence, perspective, and a path forward—even if that path is foggy.

If all you do in a session is help a client get 1% more clear on what matters to them, or take one awkward, vulnerable step toward a value… that’s not small. That’s the work.

Therapy Goals as Acts of Hope

If you’ve made it this far, you’re clearly someone who gives a damn. You’ve sat through the tangled threads of emotional goals, sidestepped dead person’s goals with grace, redirected outcome goals, and lovingly nudged clients out of insight spirals. All while sipping your lukewarm coffee and possibly wondering if you’re helping anyone at all.

Here’s your reminder: you are.

Because when we talk about setting therapy goals, we’re not talking about checkbox achievements or insurance-friendly buzzwords. We’re talking about acts of hope. Every time a client says, “I think I’d like to try calling my sister again,” or “Maybe I’ll journal after work instead of doomscrolling,” that’s hope. That’s movement. That’s a reclaiming of agency in a world that often makes us feel powerless.

Therapy goals, at their best, are not performance metrics. They are breadcrumbs back to the self—tiny, intentional actions that say:

“Even in this pain, I get to choose what I care about.”

“Even with fear, I can take one step forward.”

“Even in the chaos, I get to come home to myself.”

And as therapists, we are the quiet companions in that process. Not the architects of someone’s life. Not the fixers. Not the narrators. Just the steady presence reminding them that their story isn’t over—and they get to help write the next page.

So the next time a client says, “I just want to feel better,” you’ll know how to hold that with tenderness… and still ask, “And what might you want to do, even if that feeling takes a little while to show up?”

Because therapy isn’t about erasing discomfort.

It’s about expanding what’s possible alongside it.

And that? That’s the real work.

Written by Jen Hyatt, a licensed psychotherapist at Storm Haven Counseling & Wellness in Temecula, California.

Disclaimer

This blog post is intended for educational and reflective purposes for mental health professionals and is not a substitute for clinical supervision, ethical consultation, or individualized training. All client stories and examples shared are composites—drawn from common themes and clinical experiences—designed to reflect functional scenarios. They do not represent any one individual and are written with care to protect confidentiality and uphold ethical standards.