More Life, Less Therapy
Asking for help can be incredibly difficult. Given the ways we have been socialized by gender expectations, our family of origin dynamics, our own mental health struggles, and cultural norms, including values of self-sufficiency and independence, we can be up against a lot before we even consider asking for help. And sometimes when we do ask for help, we struggle to receive the help we are offered.
Written by Ryan Richards, LICSW
Looking for Help
I went looking for help with my family. I have three sisters and we all agree that family is very important to us. We prioritize getting together, even with multiple mountain ranges and oceans between us. But it seemed that every time we got together, there would be so much hurt flying around and I would leave feeling less connected and more alone. "Something has to change," I would think.
I sought out a couple references for family therapists. I wanted to make sure they were the best of the best. "We are going to need a lot of help" I remember thinking. A master facilitator. Someone courageous and skilled, with a lot of experience. Someone who won't let us regress into childhood versions of ourselves. I had short phone calls with two different therapists but for logistical reasons neither worked out. Maybe I won’t find help after all.
Trusting Our Curiosity and Process
During this period of my life, I was studying the work of pioneering family therapist Salvador Minuchin, founder of what's called Structural Family Therapy. You may be familiar with one of his most well-known students, a celebrity therapist today, Ester Perel. I came across the name of another one of his students, Jay Lappin. Jay had been working with Minuchin since the 1980's. I looked him up and found his minimalist website with a phone number listed. Sure, I thought, I'll give it a try. The phone rang and eventually an answering machine kicked on: Jay's not in right now, please leave a message and he'll get back to you as soon as he can. Like the website, it felt like I was taken back 20 years ago to the days of landlines and physical answering machines. I left a brief message and included my phone number.
By the next day I had forgotten I'd left a message and let go of the idea of family therapy with my sisters, “oh well.” Mid-day a call comes in from a number I don't recognize. I pick it up. Hi, this is Jay Lappin, you called me yesterday looking for some help with your family. Sorry for all the noise in the background, my neighbor is putting in an inground pool today of all days. We exchange a brief back and forth humor about the inground pool and his relationship with his neighbors. Then he shifts the topic. So, tell me a little bit about what you're looking for. I share a brief synopsis of the family pattern as I see it, our closeness, the hurt that gets thrown around, the cycles of hope and disappointment I go through.
Tracking Inner Experience and Opening to What’s Being Asked of Us
As we talk, I notice that I want to secure his services as soon as possible. I also notice he is steering me in a different direction. Sounds like you have a really good sense of what's going on. Perhaps you could call a meeting together with them. He calls forth AA meetings and talking circles as examples. One person talks at a time, and each person agrees to bring their best, most mature self to the meeting. "Ok," I think, "but I want your help to do that." But I don't say that because I know that he has brought me right up to my edge, the step I've needed to but had been afraid to take. I covertly try and carry on the conversation a little longer, seeing if maybe he would offer his services. Finally, he says, reach out to me after your meeting and let me know how it went. The challenge is solidified.
I had already spoken with each of my sisters and gotten their agreement to family therapy. So, when I emailed them telling them I hadn't found a therapist for us to work with but that I would like to try meeting with them a couple times without a therapist, they all responded collaboratively to schedule those two meetings. It would be an experiment.
Utilizing Our Strengths While Leaning Into Our Growth Edges
I offered to facilitate the first meeting. I wanted to offer my professional experience and some guidelines for how we meet before stepping back into a participant role with the rest of them. I made a simple private goal for meeting number one: success would be that everyone wants to come back for a second meeting. We worked through some prompts and agreed to: Speak from your heart. Honor your limits and pass as you need to. At the meeting’s end everyone said yes to another one. We came up with agreements for the next meeting that we would help each other abide by.
I made it clear in the second meeting that I was not going to facilitate but that we would hold the meeting together so that I could participate as fully as they were. After I introduced our second meeting and reviewed our agreements, I said I was letting go of the facilitator role, leaned back in my chair and was quiet. A moment of silence, then one of my sisters said, well Ry, I think you should share first as this is something you called forward. I would love to hear more about your experience with our family and what you're hoping for here. I decided I would go for broke, no blame or criticism, to surrender my defenses and resentments and share directly from my heart.
Moving Towards Integrity
I looked up on the screen at the Zoom window and there were my three beloved sisters, open and waiting to hear what was on my mind and in my heart. As I began to share, I began to weep, pausing throughout what I was saying to catch my breath and gather myself. While sharing, every now and then I would look back, my sisters' faces still there, present and receiving. What I was expressing was outside of the role I felt stuck in within the family. I wanted my sisters to know that sometimes I hurt too, that sometimes I also need help. And they heard me. I was in an altered state and felt lighter than I had in years, releasing all that I was carrying, allowing them to help me to let it go, the pressure I put on myself, the weight, the terror, the sadness and the rage.
When I finished sharing, my sisters asked if it would be okay if they responded. One of my sisters said she never realized that I struggled in these ways. Another sister shared how powerful it is hearing a man speak so openly about his pain and express so courageously and defenselessly his feelings. My third sister thanked me for expressing myself and assured me that she hears me and supports me. They were all incredibly generous and kind in their reflections and I left the meeting enormously grateful that those are the women I get to call my sisters.
Therapy Can Help Our Fears Become Our Virtues
"Therapy" often doesn't look like what we think it will look like. It takes courage to notice the places we are stuck or afraid or avoiding and to step in that direction anyway. Much of the therapeutic work happens outside of the phone call with the therapist or the therapy room. Jay was able to read my situation, find my edge, and offer me a way forward. A way--as my friend and colleague said to me once--that involves "less therapy, more life."
I can’t take credit for all of the courage to call my sisters together and express with them so directly and from the heart. I now had someone who I could call if things went south. A good amount of grace, years of professional training and personal development, and a group of sisters who can really listen when you ask them to, all of this allowed for such an impactful experience. I don’t want to pretend that things often go this way when we take risks. But when we get the right support we know we have a place to land when we get in too deep.
So take risks, small ones first. Share something with a sibling, ask to talk with your partner, say the thing that's hard to say, do the thing that you've been wanting to do for years. And if you get stuck, you can call us.
Ryan Richards is a thoughtful, grounded clinician who brings warmth, curiosity, and clarity to his work with individuals and couples. He is especially skilled at helping clients navigate relationship challenges, emotional disconnection, and periods of transition with greater self-awareness and intention. Ryan’s approach is collaborative and compassionate, creating a space where clients feel understood while also gently challenged to grow. He integrates evidence-based practices with a deeply human lens, supporting clients in building healthier patterns, stronger communication, and more meaningful connection, both with others and with themselves.
