Does Your Therapist Think About You Between Sessions?

Dr. Olivier van Hauwermeiren, PsyD

This post is part of my Ask a Therapist series, where I take questions I've answered on r/askatherapist and go a little deeper than the comment section allows.


The Question

How do therapists think about their clients while they're not working? I'm a teacher, and I care about my students. I try to keep boundaries between work and free time, but I do sometimes find myself thinking about them outside of work, how to help them with certain situations. At the same time, I hate running into them outside of work. Is that what it's like for therapists? Or are you better at setting those boundaries?


My Answer

Patients often pop into my mind outside of work.

While it's still a work context, I'll think of patients in the sense that I bring them up during group consults if I need support, or if I find a case that's interesting enough to educate other psychologists.

Most of the time, though, it's just random occurrences that make me think of them. Like if they're a sports fan and their team wins or loses.


Let's Go Deeper

The teacher who asked this was comparing notes on work-life balance, and that's a fair reading of the question. But when clients ask me some version of it in the room, they're usually not asking about my calendar. They're asking whether they exist to me between appointments, or whether the whole thing resets when the door closes. So I want to answer both versions.

Start with the mechanics, because they're less mysterious than people imagine. There are basically three ways a client crosses my mind during the week. The first is deliberate: like most psychologists, I meet regularly with colleagues for consultation, and when I bring a case there it's stripped of identifying details, and it happens for one reason, which is that I want to do better work for that person. People sometimes picture consultation as therapists swapping stories over coffee. It's much closer to a surgeon reviewing a hard case with the department before an operation. Which is to say: if your therapist has thought about you in consult, you're being taken seriously.

The second is slower and mostly involuntary. Therapists carry a working model of each client, a running case conceptualization, and it keeps assembling itself in the background whether I'm at my desk or not. I'll be on a run and a connection will surface about why a certain phone call always seems to precede a certain kind of week. I didn't sit down to produce that thought. It showed up because the story stayed live in my mind, and if it's useful it gets written down and brought back into session, where it belongs. There's a large international survey of how therapists experience their work (Orlinsky and Rønnestad's research is the standard reference), and this kind of ongoing involvement in the work turns out to be part of what healthy engagement looks like across a career, as opposed to a warning sign.

And the third is the one from my answer, which is honestly the most common: your team wins and I think of you. A song you spent a session dissecting comes on in a coffee shop. These moments are small and warm and involuntary, and they don't signal a boundary problem. They're just what happens when one person knows another person well.

Now, the boundary question, because that's the part the teacher was actually asking about. I don't spend my evenings ruminating about clients, and if I noticed myself doing that regularly, I'd bring it to my own consultation, because it usually means something in the work needs attention. Clients don't stop mattering at six o'clock. It's more that you're better served by a therapist who rested, lived his own life, and walked back in with a full tank. The boundaries run in less obvious directions too. I don't look clients up online, and I don't act on a between-session thought by texting someone an insight on a Saturday. The thinking gets held and comes back to the room. And since the teacher mentioned hating run-ins outside of work: if we cross paths at the grocery store, I won't approach or greet you first, because your presence in my practice is confidential and I have no idea who you're standing next to. You're free to say hello and I'll follow your lead. Clients are usually relieved to learn that rule exists before it ever gets tested.

Whenever this topic comes up, someone eventually raises the fee. If I'm paying you, is any of this real? I'd rather meet that head-on than wave it away, and it turns out there's actual research on it. Alongside the working alliance, researchers led by Charles Gelso have spent years studying what they call the real relationship in therapy: the genuine person-to-person connection underneath the professional roles, how real each person is with the other and how accurately they see each other. A meta-analysis of that work found that the strength of the real relationship predicts therapy outcomes, over and above what the alliance already explains. So the connection isn't a polite fiction sitting on top of a transaction. It's part of the machinery, and it's measurable. What the fee buys is my time, my training, and the protected structure of the work. It can't buy the caring, any more than you can pay someone to find you interesting. What the structure does is keep the relationship clean: I need nothing from you emotionally, so the hour stays entirely about your life.

If you're wondering about your own therapist, ask them. "Do you ever think about me between sessions?" is a fair question, and a good therapist won't flinch at it. It's worth knowing that the research on between-session thinking has mostly studied the other direction: clients think about their therapists between sessions a great deal, they carry an internal version of the therapist around with them, and building up that internalized relationship seems to be part of how therapy does its work (Geller and Farber were studying this back in the early 90s). So the wondering isn't needy or strange. It's half of a process that runs in both directions. And the question usually carries something older, some quiet doubt about mattering to people who aren't required to notice you, the kind of doubt that also shows up in friendships and at work and in how much space you let yourself take up. The therapy relationship is one of the few places you can examine that doubt live, with the other person in the room and willing to talk about it. I've watched that single conversation move more than months of careful topic management.

So the short answer to the original question is yes, you come to mind, in bounded and mostly warm ways, and the boundaries are part of the care rather than the opposite of it. The longer answer is that if you're asking, that's worth fifty minutes of its own.


FAQ

Do therapists talk about their clients with other people?

Only in professional consultation, and without identifying details. Licensed psychologists consult with colleagues to improve the care they provide, and that consultation is itself bound by confidentiality. Outside of those settings, and the narrow legal exceptions like imminent safety concerns, your therapist cannot discuss you with anyone.

Is it needy to wonder whether my therapist thinks about me?

No. Wondering whether you matter to someone who isn't obligated to think about you is one of the most human questions there is, and it usually has roots worth exploring. Bringing it up in session tends to be far more productive than deciding on your own what the answer must be.

Will my therapist say hello if we run into each other in public?

Most therapists won't approach or greet you first, because acknowledging you could reveal to whoever you're with that you're in therapy. If you say hello, your therapist will follow your lead and keep it brief. It's a privacy protection, not a rejection.


References

  • Geller, J. D., & Farber, B. A. (1993). Factors influencing the process of internalization in psychotherapy. Psychotherapy Research, 3(3), 166-180.
  • Gelso, C. J., Kivlighan, D. M., Jr., & Markin, R. D. (2018). The real relationship and its role in psychotherapy outcome: A meta-analysis. Psychotherapy, 55(4), 434-444. https://doi.org/10.1037/pst0000183
  • Orlinsky, D. E., & Rønnestad, M. H. (2005). How psychotherapists develop: A study of therapeutic work and professional growth. American Psychological Association.

If this resonates, it's the kind of work I do. You can book a free 15-minute intro call, or read more in the Ask a Therapist series.

Olivier van Hauwermeiren, PsyD, is a licensed clinical psychologist serving New York City via telehealth, licensed in New York and Wisconsin and PSYPACT-authorized to practice telepsychology in 40+ states. He specializes in anxiety, OCD, trauma, and performance challenges among high-achieving professionals.

Keep reading