The Difference Between Healing and Fixing

July 13, 2026 As a therapist, I've come to believe there's an important difference between healing someone and trying to fix them.

I think back to my own life. When I was younger, I remember my father saying, "Well, darling, what do you want me to do about it?"

And in my head I was thinking, I don't know, Dad... maybe give me a hug.

My dad was wonderful when there was a practical problem. If my car broke down, if I was short on rent, if I needed help choosing insurance, he was the person to call. That practicality didn't mean he loved me any less. It simply meant that sometimes the solution he offered wasn't the thing I needed most.

I think many people come to therapy believing they need to be fixed—that something inside them is broken. I touched on this in my first blog, where I talked about how quickly we label ourselves as "broken." Our language encourages it. If something is broken, we fix it. If something is wrong, we correct it.

But on a therapeutic level, I don't think that's how healing works.

In fact, I tell almost every new client within the first few minutes of meeting them:

"I'm not here to fix you."

I'm not here to fix anybody.

I'm here to listen.

I'm here to help you put words to your thoughts and feelings. I'll reflect back what I hear: This is what I hear you thinking. This is what I hear you feeling.

Then you get to tell me whether I understood you correctly.

"Yes, that's exactly it."

Or...

"No, that's not quite what I meant."

Together, we keep clarifying until your experience begins to come into focus.

That's where therapy becomes powerful.

I believe every person who walks into my office already possesses the capacity for healing.

The problem isn't that the answers don't exist.

The problem is that life gets noisy.

We carry expectations, responsibilities, trauma, anxiety, grief, shame, other people's opinions, and years of experiences that cloud our ability to hear ourselves clearly. It's like trying to find your way through a dense fog.

My job isn't to tell you who you are.

My job is to help clear away the fog so you can recognize yourself again.

Because that's where healing lives.

We often experience the opposite in everyday life.

When people care about us and see us struggling, they naturally want to help.

"Why don't you go for a walk?"

"Why don't you take up painting?"

"Why don't you call your mom?"

"Why don't you start exercising?"

These suggestions usually come from a place of genuine love. Most people aren't trying to dismiss our pain.

They're trying to make it better.

But sometimes those well-meaning solutions have the opposite effect.

If someone tells me, "Just go for a walk," and everything inside me is screaming, I don't have the energy. I don't even feel capable of leaving the house, I don't feel encouraged.

I feel like I've failed before I've even started.

Suddenly, I don't just feel sad or overwhelmed.

I feel defective because the "simple" solution doesn't feel simple at all.

Sometimes advice doesn't reduce our pain.

Sometimes it deepens our loneliness because it reminds us how misunderstood we feel.

That's the difference between fixing and healing.

Fixing assumes someone else knows the answer.

Healing creates space for you to discover your own.

Therapy also doesn't come with a stopwatch.

You'll never hear me say,

"It's been twelve weeks. Why aren't you over this yet?"

Or,

"It's been a year. Shouldn't you have moved on by now?"

Healing doesn't work on a schedule.

Every person processes grief, trauma, disappointment, and change differently.

My role isn't to rush that process.

It's to walk alongside you while you reconnect with yourself.

If you read my first blog, you know I struggle with the idea that people are "broken."

Human beings aren't inanimate objects.

When a bone breaks, it heals.

It may heal differently than before. (It may even become stronger in some ways.)

But it heals.

A brick doesn't.

A brick can be glued back together, but it will never become one solid piece again. The glue is what fixes it.

People aren't bricks.

We aren't meant to be patched together with quick solutions or clever advice.

We heal.

And if therapy does anything, I hope it helps people remember that the capacity for healing was within them all along.