When My Therapist Hat Meets My Mom Bun: Finding Balance in Dual Roles

Erin Bratsky

May 2025

It's 7:00 AM on a Tuesday. I've already negotiated acceptable school attire, made two different breakfasts to accommodate ever-changing preferences, and mentally rehearsed talking points for my first client session, all before finishing my first cup of coffee.

Welcome to the beautiful chaos that is balancing my therapist hat with my mom bun.

As a therapist and a mother, I live in two worlds that both demand emotional presence, boundless patience, and the ability to function on questionable amounts of sleep. Some days, these worlds complement each other beautifully. Other days, they collide in ways that leave me wondering if I'm doing either role justice.

When Worlds Collide

The irony isn't lost on me that I spend my days helping clients navigate emotional regulation, boundaries, and self-care, then come home to test all those skills in real-time with my own family. There's something humbling about teaching mindfulness techniques at 2 PM, then losing my cool over incomplete chores at 6 PM.

These moments of collision can feel like failure. But over time, I've come to see them as invitations to practice what I preach, to embrace imperfection, to repair when I miss the mark, and to model the messy reality of being human.

Because here's the truth: therapists aren't immune to life's challenges. We don't float above the fray of human experience, dispensing wisdom from some enlightened plane. We're right in it with you, figuring it out as we go, making mistakes, and trying again.

The Unexpected Gifts

While balancing these roles isn't always easy, it has given me gifts I never anticipated:

Deeper empathy. When a parent in my office talks about the bone-deep exhaustion of caring for a sick child all night, I don't have to imagine it, I've lived it. When a client describes the guilt of missing a work deadline because of family needs, I know that feeling intimately. These shared experiences create a bridge of understanding that no textbook could teach.

Practical wisdom. Parenting has made me a better therapist because it's forced me to distill complex psychological concepts into practical, accessible tools. When you're trying to help a tantruming toddler regulate their emotions, theoretical approaches quickly give way to what actually works in the moment. This translates to more grounded, realistic support for my clients.

Authentic presence. Both therapy and parenting have taught me that showing up imperfectly is better than not showing up at all. Some days, I'm not at my best, I'm tired, I'm distracted, I'm running on fumes. But I've learned that acknowledging these limitations often creates more connection than pretending to have it all together.

Finding Balance (Or Something Like It)

If you're juggling multiple demanding roles, as a parent, caregiver, professional, partner, or friend you know that perfect balance is a myth. Life doesn't fit neatly into compartments, and some seasons require more from certain roles than others.

Here's what helps me navigate the dance between therapist and mother:

Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries. Clear boundaries help me be more present in whichever role I'm occupying at the moment. When I'm with clients, my phone stays silent. When I'm with my family, client emails wait until designated work hours. These boundaries aren't rigid, emergencies do happen, but they create a framework that helps everyone know what to expect.

Self-compassion as a practice. On days when I feel like I'm failing at everything, I try to speak to myself the way I would to a client facing similar struggles. "You're doing the best you can with the resources you have right now. Tomorrow is another chance to try again."

Finding my village. Neither therapy nor parenting was meant to be a solo endeavor. I've learned to lean on colleagues for consultation, friends for commiseration, and family for support. Vulnerability isn't weakness, it's the recognition that we're stronger together.

Small moments of presence. Perfect balance may be unattainable, but small moments of full presence are always possible. A five-minute meditation before seeing clients. A phone-free dinner with my family. A moment to breathe deeply between sessions. These micro-practices help me reset and reconnect throughout the day.

The Common Thread

Despite their differences, I've found that being a good therapist and being a good parent share a common foundation: both require me to show up authentically, to listen more than I speak, to set loving boundaries, and to trust the process even when progress isn't linear.

Both roles remind me daily that growth happens in relationship that we heal and learn through connection, not in isolation. And both have taught me that the most powerful thing I can offer, whether to a client or to my child, is my genuine presence.

We're All Human First

If you're reading this and feeling the weight of your own multiple roles, I want you to know: you're not alone. Whether you're balancing career and family, caregiving and self-care, or any other combination of responsibilities that pull you in different directions—the struggle is real, and it's shared.

At Brighter Sky Counseling, we believe in honoring the full humanity of both our clients and ourselves. We don't pretend to have perfect answers or perfectly balanced lives. Instead, we offer a space where the messy reality of being human is welcomed and where we can figure out the path forward together.

Because at the end of the day, whether I'm wearing my therapist hat or sporting my mom bun (or both simultaneously, as often happens on telehealth days), I'm human first. And that humanity, with all its flaws, feelings, and fierce capacity for love, is what connects us all.

If you're navigating your own balancing act and could use some support, we're here. Our team of therapists brings not just professional expertise but lived experience to our work. Reach out today to schedule an appointment and take that first step toward finding your own version of balance—messy, imperfect, and entirely yours.