Arriving at the first therapy session takes something we don't always name: courage. Not the loud courage of grand gestures, but the quieter kind that Brené Brown describes as the willingness to show up without knowing exactly what's going to happen. If you're reading this, you've probably already taken that step, or you're very close to it. And it makes complete sense that you'd want to know what's ahead.
What I describe here is how the initial process works in my practice. Not because there's a rigid formula, but because I believe reducing uncertainty is part of the care from the very first moment.
Before the first session: the initial exchange
Before booking a formal session, I think it's important that we have a brief conversation — about 20 minutes by phone or Zoom — free of charge and with no commitment. It's not an interview or a diagnosis; it's simply a first contact.
In that space you tell me what brings you, what you're looking for, what you've tried before if that's the case. I tell you how I work, what approach I use, how the process is structured. We also sort out the practical side: session frequency, fees, payment methods, the general framework.
This exchange exists because the therapeutic relationship matters as much as the method. Before committing to a process, it's worth sensing whether there's something that resonates between the way I work and what you need. I'm not always the right therapist for every person, and that's worth saying from the start too.
The first session: exploring without rushing
When we sit together for the first time, the goal isn't to solve anything. It's to start getting to know the terrain.
The conversation centers on a few key questions: What's happening in your life in relation to what brought you here? How are you experiencing it — in your day to day, in your relationships, in your body? What challenges do you recognize? And what resources, what strengths, have you been able to draw on so far?
This last question isn't rhetorical. In the way I work — integrating tools rooted in Core Energetics and body-based therapy — starting from available resources is as important as understanding the problem. We don't arrive at therapy broken; we arrive with a story that once made sense and that may no longer serve us.
I also explore, from the start, the emotions, thoughts, and physical sensations that show up around the problem. This isn't incidental. The body registers what the mind can't yet put into words. Peter Levine, with his work in Somatic Experiencing, and Pat Ogden, with sensorimotor psychotherapy, have extensively documented how the nervous system holds patterns that conversation alone can't undo. Paying attention to what's happening in the body during the first session — a tightness in the chest, breath that catches, shoulders that rise — is part of therapeutic listening from the very first moment.
If you want to know more about how somatic work is integrated into the process, you can read about Polyvagal Theory, which shapes much of my understanding of the nervous system and emotional regulation.
After the first session: the frame as a therapeutic act
At the end of the first session — or in a brief follow-up exchange — we define together the working frequency, the initial goals, and the general frame of the process.
The frame isn't bureaucracy. It's the container that makes the work possible. Knowing when we meet, how often, what happens if you need to cancel, what space this process occupies in your life — all of that creates a structure that, in itself, has a therapeutic effect. The nervous system needs predictability to relax and open up. A clear frame is, from the start, a form of regulation.
The ideal frequency varies by person and moment. In general, we start with weekly sessions — the rhythm that allows the process to have continuity and depth. From there, the frame can adjust as the work progresses.
If you have questions about what happens after the first sessions, you can read What to expect from therapy? or, if you're still deciding whether this is the right time for you, When is a good time to start?
The most important thing I can tell you is this: you don't need to arrive with everything clear. Arriving with the question, with the discomfort, with the doubt — that's already enough to begin.