The wounded healer
Emma Taylor

The ‘wounded healer’ archetype inspired by Greek myth was brought to use in psychological practice by Carl Jung. Jung theorised that through our own deep wounds, we have the unique ability to connect authentically to the deep wounds of our clients.

Within helping professions, it's anecdotally understood that a fair percentage of practitioners will have experienced some kind of mental health challenges, and it is often the driver behind their want (or is it a need?) to help. I didn’t set out in my young life knowing I’d gravitate towards a caring career; it just sort of went that way. I had some early aspirations to become a firefighter, but that may have been influenced by watching too many episodes of London’s Burning (a reference obsolete for anyone under 40).

I’m not exactly sure when it dawned on me that I am, in fact, a wounded healer. I always knew I was wounded, but I didn’t begin to understand the impact of that on my practice until I saw it unfold in front of me.

When I began to practice, I felt the core conditions slide into place like a comfy old slipper – familiar, warm and inviting. Slipping into modalities, however, felt more like wearing in walking boots – unfamiliar, rigid and altogether awkward.

I resonated with the sentiment of the ‘wounded healer’ when I began to consciously identify giving ‘all of myself’ to clients – my authenticity, my focus, my energy, my care and I believe, most powerfully, my empathy.

The balance of my practice in the time after qualifying meant that this ‘giving of self’ in sessions was manageable. Over the coming few years, in a full-time, fast-paced service it became a different story. Initially, it felt like whiplash trying to adjust but I did. I grew to be able to hold it without the proverbial neck injuries. What I found in its place was a feeling (rather dramatically) I can only describe as my life force draining from my being during each session.

As time goes on and my experience in practice grows, along with my self-reflections and resilience, I’m ‘mostly’ wearing two slippers now. It no longer feels so intensely draining. I am left feeling deeply thankful and honoured to be a wounded healer, to share in a sacred space with my clients.  I will, however, keep a keen eye on the thin veil between balance and burnout.