Holding Space for Men as a Female Therapist: My Learning and the Honour.

When people ask what it’s like being a female therapist working with men in therapy,  I often pause. Not because I don’t have an answer—but because it’s layered. Over the years, my journey has taken me to some work in prisons, Gambling help groups, Domestic Violence Groups and One to One therapy in General Counselling spaces.

Each  of these environments has shaped my perspective, challenged my assumptions, and deepened my understanding of what it means for men  to be truly seen and heard.

Walking Into the Room

There’s something about walking into a support group meeting of just men as a  female therapist—especially one tasked with facilitating deep, emotional conversations . There might often be  the initial sizing up.  The silences.  Then, over time, something begins to shift.

I’ve learned that trust doesn’t come quickly, and nor should it. Many of the men I’ve worked with carry stories marked by shame, trauma, and some like all have years of emotional suppression, and sometimes misunderstanding, possibly difficult  experiences , sometimes with  women, mothers or partners . But when trust is earned—when a space feels safe—walls begin to come down. And when they do, it can be profound and powerful.

Gambling Support: The Hidden Struggle, Leaving Men Drowning in Shame

My years in gambling support groups were some of the most eye-opening. So many of the men who walked through those doors didn’t "look like" they were struggling. But behind the mask was a familiar cocktail of desperation, secrecy, and self-blame and a massive grief and loss  in their sense of self and a loss of their core values.

They came from all walks of life from a homeless man I worked with to police men, firemen, doctors, teachers, even a Psychiatrist, shop workers and others.

What struck me most wasn’t just the pain of financial loss—it was the emotional toll. The spiralling guilt and shame. The sense of failing as a provider, partner, or father. Many of these men had never talked to anyone about what they were going through. And for some, I was the first person who listened without judgment.

Being able to offer tools and support around what to do next was often a huge sense of relief for men in particular as having something practical they could do was a big step in a new direction.

I did also work with women, as the gambling industry does target women more now but it’s men and boys who suffer the most, being bombarded with advertising during sports games , targeted online through gaming,etc!

One of the things that was enlightening for me was that there was always an underlying trauma,  depression or deep loss when someone’s gambling was having negative impacts on their life.

Like many things, people can engage in something like gambling in a healthy way and have fun, it becomes an addiction or problem when there are negative impacts on their lives or others around them. This might be, using the rent money, kids dinner money, not being able to stop when you know you need to, not eating, resting.

Being caught up when you should be focusing on something more important like study, family or a partner . When it gets really bad, lying, stealing, self harming with alcohol or porn etc.

The  small amount of Prison  Work I did was Eye Opening

Working in prisons added another dimension.  I worked mostly in a women’s Prison but I did visit some men in prison in the gambling program I worked on.

The environment was raw , but I noticed they were more vulnerable in sessions there, maybe it was a space where they could be in an unforgiving living space!

.There were days I left emotionally exhausted. But there were also moments of unexpected vulnerability—tears from men who hadn’t cried in decades, stories shared for the first time.

Being a female therapist in that space wasn’t always easy. But I’ve come to believe that gender can be a bridge, not a barrier—if handled with respect and gentleness. For many of the men I worked with, it was the first time a woman had listened to them without fear or judgment. That alone seemed to be, healing.

Being Present with Men’s Vulnerability as A Woman Therapist, how this might  feel as a Woman.

Across every setting—from one to one sessions, prison to circle chairs in groups, —one thing remains true: presence is everything. Feeling secure in yourself and knowing you have done the work around anger, sadness etc;  It's not about fixing someone. It’s about witnessing. Holding space. Offering unconditional regard, compassion  but also challenge when needed, also being able to be challenged, keeping strong boundaries, offering  space  and consistency in a world that may have offered little of either.

What’s often not spoken about enough is just how deeply many men do want to go—when given the chance. Once they feel safe, I’ve consistently found that men are incredibly receptive to doing the deeper emotional work. There’s a need and wanting for honesty, for release, for healing. And it’s not surface-level. When they commit to the process, they dive in with courage and honesty that’s profoundly moving.

Some of the most transformative moments in my work have come from sitting across from men who were able to cry or allowed  to cry, how to name their needs, how to be with their own pain—yet there they were, once they felt safely supported, doing exactly that. It’s humbling every single time.

As a woman in these spaces, I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to live in a man’s skin, to carry their particular pressures. But I do know the universal language of pain, shame, hope, and resilience. And I’ve learned that when we strip back the roles, the masks, the bravado—what remains is a human being in need of connection.

By listening, watching and learning I have felt like I understand men better, to empathise and to have more respect for them.

Looking Forward for Men

Therapy has a way of breaking down the roles, layers and coming back to humanity. And I believe there’s something profoundly healing about being seen by someone different from you, a woman, some men may not have ever felt respect from a woman or empathy. Possibly for some men, they weren’t sure they  could trust, and realising that trust is possible.

After some time, I still feel honoured to do this work.

To sit in the  difficult mess with someone. To witness transformation—not as a dramatic "aha!" moment, but as a quiet shift. A softer voice. A lighter step. A glimpse of self-compassion.

To watch a man gain back his sense of self and to begin to feel seen can be very profound as a woman.In therapy work we as the therapist should continue to grow, much of my growth has come through my work with men.

An Unexpected Honour

What continues to strike me, even after all these years, is the depth of emotional insight and willingness many men bring to therapy when they feel genuinely safe. There's something incredibly honest about the way men show up once they’ve pushed past their internal gatekeepers.

As a woman, I feel deeply honoured to be invited into that space—to sit with their vulnerability, their pain, their hopes. To witness their growth. It’s not something I take for granted. There’s a quiet bravery in letting someone see who you really are, and when men allow that, it’s a privilege to hold.

To sit in that difficult stuff with someone. To witness transformation—not as a dramatic "aha!" moment, but as a quiet shift. A softer voice. A lighter step. A glimpse of self-compassion.

That’s the magic I’ve seen—and it keeps me going.