When Shared Experience Leads the Way

Diverse clinical and community contexts have brought renewed attention to the value of lived experience in therapeutic contexts. Many clients now actively seek therapists who have walked similar paths, those who share diagnoses, or life circumstances. This trend is often encouraged by digital platforms that promote therapist self-disclosure as a way for prospective clients to identify with them. While this can foster accessibility, it may also shape client expectations through the lens of confirmation bias, reinforcing the idea that therapeutic fit depends on similarity rather than relational skill, clinical competence, or suitability to treat.

On the surface, this preference makes intuitive sense: surely someone who "gets it" will be more attuned, more trustworthy. But as the field evolves, it’s worth asking what is gained, and what might be at risk, when lived experience becomes the central basis of connection between therapist and client.

The Allure of Shared Experience

There is no doubt that lived experience holds power. In peer support models shared identity can reduce shame, foster hope, and affirm that recovery is possible (Mead et al., 2001; Solomon, 2004). In marginalised communities, a shared cultural background can sometimes bridge historical distrust (Hook et al., 2013). And yet, decades of psychotherapy research consistently highlight that what drives outcomes is not sameness, but the strength of the therapeutic alliance. As Norcross and Lambert (2019) summarise, the key predictors of success are therapist empathy, attunement, and genuineness not the therapist’s personal history.

Peer support and psychotherapy are adjacent but distinct roles. While peer support workers offer identification and community from a position of mutuality, therapists are expected to hold space in a way that centres the client’s meaning-making, not the therapist’s own story.

Who’s frame of reference?

It’s also important to consider what motivates clients to seek out therapists with similar lived experience. For many, this may be a valid and affirming preference. For others, however, it may reflect a defensive stance, "no one gets it," "they won’t understand" that can stall therapeutic engagement. In some cases, shared experience is unconsciously used as a mechanism to avoid the discomfort of articulating painful material or confronting complexity. Clients may hope, consciously or not, that a therapist with similar experiences will simply “know,” thereby removing the need to do the hard work of meaning-making. This can also reinforce in-group/out-group dynamics, where only those with the “right” background are seen as capable of offering support, further narrowing the client’s openness to relational difference.

Therapeutic Relationship or Parallel Process?

When shared experience becomes central, boundary clarity can blur. Therapists may be more prone to unconscious enactments repeating their own story through the client’s. This dynamic, described in psychoanalytic and relational theories as "parallel process" or countertransference enactment, can unconsciously shift the focus of therapy away from the client (Ogden, 2004; Hawkins & Shohet, 2012).

Even within humanistic and existential traditions, which emphasise therapist authenticity, there is caution against the therapist occupying too much space in the room. As Rogers (1957) made clear, the therapeutic stance should be one of deep empathy and presence but centred always on the client’s narrative.

Overlap without collapse

Supervision or Echo-chamber?

Supervision is often described as the essential safeguard a space for therapists to reflect on how their own histories may be influencing the work and to recalibrate when needed. It is designed to help identify blind spots, manage countertransference, and challenge entrenched patterns and assumptions. Meaningful supervision depends on openness to differing perspectives and intentional examination of biases.

However, supervision can become problematic and risk turning into an "echo chamber" when supervisor and supervisee share very similar backgrounds, values, or blind spots. In such cases, instead of challenging each other's assumptions, there is a risk that both parties will reinforce shared beliefs and biases rather than exposing and questioning them, potentially stifling growth and objectivity.

While most published research and best-practice guidelines emphasise the ideals of supervision rather than direct empirical studies of echo chamber effects in supervisory relationships, the general phenomenon of group homogeneity leading to echo chambers is well-documented in other contexts (e.g., social networks, organisational culture). Diversifying supervisory experiences and seeking openness to difference can help mitigate this risk. Current professional guidance encourages mindful attention to power dynamics, diversity, and self-awareness within supervision, precisely to counteract the potential for such echo chambers.

Clinical Assumptions and Over-Identification

Another risk is the loss of curiosity. When a therapist assumes, "Because I went through/live this, I understand you," they may shortcut the client’s unique meaning-making process. This is a core concern in countertransference theory (Gabbard, 2018), and one echoed by Carl Rogers’ early caution against conflating empathy with identification. Narrative and dialogic therapy models emphasise the importance of maintaining a "not-knowing" stance a willingness to be surprised by the client, and to bracket assumptions (Anderson, 1997).

The moment we believe we already understand the client's experience, we may stop listening as closely.

Psychedelic Integration and the Expansion of the Therapist's Role

While the dynamics described here are visible in the psychedelic therapy and integration field, this is by no means the only or predominant context in which they emerge. Similar patterns can be observed across many contemporary therapeutic landscapes, particularly in professional or community spaces where identity-based affiliation and group membership are central to the therapeutic frame. In these contexts, a kind of tribalism can emerge, reinforcing in-group belonging at the expense of open exploration, difference, or therapeutic neutrality.

In my own work and conversations within psychedelic integration spaces, I’ve observed how these dynamics can become quite pronounced. As research expands and therapeutic access increases, many facilitators and therapists are stepping into roles that are deeply relational, sometimes spiritually framed, and often informed by their own psychedelic journeys.

While personal experience can offer insight, recent research urges caution. Clients have reported feeling overshadowed or even subtly directed by facilitators who share too much of their own narrative (Gorman et al., 2021). The MAPS Code of Ethics and other psychedelic therapy guidelines strongly caution against oversharing and emphasise the importance of boundaries, supervision, and a client-centred frame. Phelps (2017) and others highlight the complex power dynamics at play when guides or therapists operate from positions of personal authority based on their own experiences.

As the space grows, clarity of role becomes critical. Are we offering therapy, guidance, peer support, or something else entirely? And what happens when these boundaries blur?

Holding Both: Integration, Reflection, and Ethical Presence

Lived experience can absolutely enrich therapeutic presence. It can deepen compassion, reduce judgement, and inform more nuanced clinical decision-making. But it is not a replacement for reflective practice, training, or supervision. As McLeod (2013) and Schön (1983) both emphasise, the hallmark of ethical, effective practice is ongoing reflection on one’s assumptions and roles.

Therapists are not blank slates, nor should they be. But when lived experience becomes the primary lens through which a client is seen, or worse, when the therapy becomes a stage for the therapist’s own ongoing processing, something essential is lost.

A Closing Reflection

This is not a call to remove lived experience from therapeutic spaces. Rather, it is a call to remain vigilant about how it is used. Is it in service of the client’s growth, or the therapist’s comfort, ego, or even a sense of self-gratification?? Does it deepen connection, or collapse difference? Does it open space for meaning making, or unintentionally direct it?

As Schön (1983) reminds us, the most ethical practitioners are those who reflect in action. In a time when lived experience is being increasingly professionalised and platformed, reflection may be more important than ever. Not just on our assumptions or techniques, but on who we choose to work with, and why.

When lived experience becomes the frame through which clients and therapists alike assess fit, it is all the more essential to examine our motivations and maintain a stance of ethical curiosity.

References

Anderson, H. (1997). Conversation, Language, and Possibilities.

Farber, B. A. (2006). Self-disclosure in Psychotherapy.

Gabbard, G. O. (2018). Countertransference issues in psychiatric practice.

Gorman, I. et al. (2021). Psychedelic integration: An analysis of the concept and its application.

Hawkins, P., & Shohet, R. (2012). Supervision in the helping professions.

Hook, J. N., et al. (2013). Cultural humility: Measuring openness to culturally diverse clients.

McLeod, J. (2013). An Introduction to Counselling.

Mead, S., Hilton, D., & Curtis, L. (2001). Peer support: A theoretical perspective.

Norcross, J. C., & Lambert, M. J. (2019). Psychotherapy relationships that work.

Ogden, T. H. (2004). On holding and containing, being and dreaming.

Phelps, J. (2017). Developing guidelines and competencies for the training of psychedelic therapists.

Rogers, C. R. (1957). The necessary and sufficient conditions of therapeutic personality change.

Schön, D. (1983). The Reflective Practitioner.

Solomon, P. (2004). Peer support/peer provided services underlying processes, benefits, and critical ingredients.

TL;DR: Key Takeaways

• Lived experience can deepen empathy and build trust, but it is not a substitute for therapeutic skill, boundaries, or reflective practice.

• Clients may seek therapists with similar experiences to feel understood, but sometimes this desire may stem from avoidance, assumptions, or a hope to bypass emotional work.

• Shared experience risks blurring boundaries and reinforcing therapist-centred dynamics, especially when used unconsciously or without supervision.

• In supervision, when therapist and supervisor share similar blind spots, an “echo chamber” can form, limiting critical reflection.

• In psychedelic integration and other identity-anchored therapy spaces, over-identification or self-disclosure by the therapist may distort the therapeutic focus.

• Reflection is essential, not only on how we practice, but on who we choose to work with and why. Curiosity, difference, and ethical humility remain central to effective therapy.