They Called Me the Most “WTF” Therapist They’ve Ever Met

Not Your Typical Therapist (And Never Tried to Be)

I didn’t grow up dreaming of becoming a therapist. I used to work in design, think mood boards, branding, visuals, and the aesthetic stuff. My job was to make things look good.

Now I sit in rooms where things fall apart.

I’ve studied the theory. I have my diploma. But most of what shaped me came from being in therapy myself for the past three years. Sitting on the other side. Unraveling. Rebuilding.

Someone once told me I was the most “WTF” therapist they’d ever met.
They didn’t mean it in a rude way. Just… surprised. Like they expected a softly spoken, nod-and-smile kind of therapist. What they got was me: newer to the field, a little chaotic, and very much the kind of person who will lovingly call out your avoidance issues between sarcastic jokes.

So yeah, maybe I’m not traditional. But I am real.

I’m New but I’m Real

I don’t pretend to have it all figured out. I’m not the therapist with 15 years of clinical experience and a bookshelf full of published research.

I still worry after certain sessions, wondering if I said too much or not enough. But I always care. Deeply. And that makes me the kind of therapist who says: “Hey, I don’t have all the answers. But I’m here with you. Let’s figure it out together.”

Maybe that’s what throws people off. I don’t perform professionalism the way some expect. I show up human. A little awkward. Always trying. Deeply caring.

I bring my own therapy brain into the room, not to make it about me, but because I know how scary it is to go there. And how worth it it can be when you do. Sometimes, clarity only shows up when we stop circling around the truth.

I’ve been in their shoes. I still am, sometimes. And that makes the room feel less like a performance and more like an honest conversation.

Safe Space? Yes. But You Might Cry and Block Your Ex After.

Therapy is a safe space. But “safe” doesn’t always mean “easy.”

Sometimes you come in to talk about work stress, and somehow we end up unpacking how your mom never said she was proud of you.

Sometimes I ask, “Why do you think you stayed in that situationship for so long?” And you realize it wasn’t about him; it was about not wanting to feel unwanted again.

A soft place to land, sure. You’re not wrong for spiraling. I do it too. But let’s also name the pattern before it becomes your personality.

Therapy with me is part healing, part holding up a mirror.
It might hurt a little.
But I promise, it’s the kind of pain that brings freedom.

I Don’t Want to “Fix” You. I Just Want to Be Real With You

I ask weird questions. I connect dots out loud. I quote psychology articles and memes in the same breath.

I’ve cried in therapy. I’ve ghosted my therapist once (don’t do that). Questioned if I was too damaged to help others. I’ve overshared, underslept, and had breakdowns over nothing.

So no, I don’t sit there pretending I have a magic answer for your pain. I don’t think I’m better than anyone. But I do know how to hold space without judgment.

Sometimes therapy sounds like this:
“That coping mechanism probably saved you once. But is it helping now?”
“You don’t need to be useful to be loved.”
“What if the reason you’re always tired is because pretending to be okay is exhausting?”

I’m not here to fix you. I’m here to walk with you through the parts of yourself that feel too heavy to hold alone.

I Make It Weird. But It Works.

Some of the best therapy breakthroughs come from the weirdest moments.

I’ve asked clients to:
— Write a breakup letter to their anxiety
— Have a conversation with their inner child (yes, out loud)
— Cry to a playlist they normally avoid
— Sit in silence and not fill it with productivity

Do these things feel awkward at first? Absolutely.
But then something cracks open. Something clicks. And suddenly that weird little assignment becomes the moment things start to shift.

I don’t always get it right. But I always show up with care.

And if someone walks out of a session feeling a little lighter, a little clearer, or even just a little more honest with themselves, then that’s a win for me

I’ve Told My Therapist the Wildest Sh*t. And She Still Shows Up

I’ve told my therapist the craziest things I’ve done.
And you know what?
She never freaked out.
She never made me feel like a bad person.
She just sat there. Listened. Held space. And helped me make sense of it.

And I’m still not in jail. Or institutionalized. So like… success? That’s how I learned what holding space actually means.

And that alone taught me something:
You can be unhinged and still worthy of compassion.

Some clients walk in worried they’ll say something too wild.
But honestly? Therapy is where your most chaotic, confusing, and low key criminal-sounding thoughts belong.

You wouldn’t believe the things people think will make them “too much”:

• Going back to a toxic ex like it’s a limited-time Netflix special.
• Spiraling at 3 a.m. with thoughts that sound like the start of a psychological thriller.
• That one thing that happened on vacation that still makes them laugh, gag, and question their morals. Simultaneously.

 

I don’t flinch. I don’t panic. I don’t reach for a clipboard and call security.
I stay.

Because people aren’t coming in to be perfect.
They’re coming in to be honest, sometimes for the first time ever.

And if you’re still hung up on your best friend’s dad who ghosted you three times and dated your cousin? Yeah… still not flinching.

That’s the difference between therapy and venting to your friend who secretly judges you. You get to be your full, messy, spiraling self and still be met with curiosity, not shame. Because that’s what I needed once too.

I’d tell you what I’ve heard in sessions, but then I’d have to lose my license.
So instead, I just smile and say: “You’d be surprised.”

So Yeah. I’m a Little “WTF.” But I’m Here for the Real Stuff.

I’m still learning who I am as a therapist.

I try hard. I overthink. I care a lot.
But I’ll sit with your silence. I’ll challenge your patterns. I’ll celebrate when you finally block that emotionally constipated ex.
Not because I’m better than you. But because I know what it’s like to be in the mess and still want something better.

I’m not the most traditional. But I’m honest.

And if that makes me the most “WTF” therapist someone’s ever met… maybe that’s exactly what they needed.

If this piece resonated, I share more raw reflections and words that feel like voice notes over on Instagram: @fujiwriteshere

Diena Fuji writes from the in-between — between cities, cultures, and versions of herself. She explores identity, intimacy, and detachment with the precision of someone who feels deeply — but doesn’t flinch. Multilingual, multi-city, always a little out of reach.