Choosing a Therapist - ‘I’m sorry, I don’t want a man’

I hear this a lot when speaking to new clients. There is often vulnerability and fear in their voice, a longing for someone to truly understand them, and a place they can feel safe. Then, almost apologetically, they add, “I’m sorry, I don’t want a man”. 

For a long time, I would reply gently: 

“I completely understand, that’s absolutely fine. You have every right to ask for what you need in therapy.” 

t felt like the right answer – and it was, in many ways. Therapy has to feel safe. 

But then, I had therapy with a male therapist. 

Yes, therapists have therapy too. Life happens to us as well – loss, pain, trauma, all of it. And that experience changed something in me. 

So, instead of writing this from the perspective of a professional trying to convince anyone, I want to share what I learned as a woman who once felt uncomfortable at the idea of being vulnerable with a man in that setting. 

Here were my thoughts before that first session: 

• He won’t understand me. How could he understand my experience? 
• Women are softer, more empathic – we’ve spent centuries developing that skill. 
• I’ll feel like he has more power, and I want it to feel equal. 
• What if I become attached? Not in love exactly, but what if it stirs up something confusing? 

My therapist’s name was Pat. He was a little older than me, worked from a small, quiet village room, and had years of experience. I didn’t feel instantly comfortable, I was on guard. But over time, I saw who he really was, kind, soft-spoken, intelligent, quietly humorous, and above all, deeply human. 

Through that relationship, I was able to challenge some of my deepest assumptions and fears. I experienced safety, containment, and warmth from a man, something I hadn’t realised I needed to feel in order to heal. Pat offered gentle challenge, genuine care, and allowed me to experience what healthy, boundaried masculinity could feel like. 

That experience reshaped the way I view therapy and gender. It reminded me that sometimes the barrier isn’t about the other person, it’s about what we’ve learned to expect from people who represent something painful or unfamiliar. 

If you’ve ever found yourself saying, “I just don’t want a man,” I understand. You don’t have to push yourself before you’re ready. But maybe, one day, it could be an opportunity, a chance to explore what that boundary means for you, and whether it’s protecting you or keeping you from something healing. 

From a clinical perspective – Understanding the Barriers  

Whatever you experience or feel it’s important to remember that these feelings are real and rooted in lived experience, attachment history, and social conditioning.  

Therapy with a male therapist can sometimes activate earlier templates around safety, trust, and relational power – making it feel risky, even if the therapist is skilled and kind. 

• Attachment history and relational templates – early experiences with men or authority figures can shape how safe it feels to trust. 
• Trauma or gendered experiences – for some, being in the presence of a man may activate protective responses rooted in past harm. 
• Societal conditioning – we are often socialised to see empathy and emotional attunement as “female” qualities. 
• Power dynamics and equality – therapy can feel imbalanced if old patterns of hierarchy or dominance are unconsciously triggered. 

And then there’s transference – the way our past relationships replay in the therapeutic space. These reactions aren’t wrong; in fact, they can be deeply informative about what needs healing. 

However, for some, working with a male therapist can become an important part of healing – especially when it provides the opportunity to experience a safe, attuned, and compassionate relationship with a man. It can challenge long-held beliefs, support the repair of relational wounds, and model healthy, boundaried masculinity. 

Every client should have the right to choose who they work with. Sometimes that means opting for a therapist whose gender feels safest right now. Other times, it can mean gently exploring what lies beneath that preference – with curiosity, not pressure. 

Ultimately, therapy isn’t about finding the “right gender” of therapist. It’s about finding the right relationship – one that offers safety, respect, and genuine connection, whoever sits across from you. 

Please get in touch with Serendipity Psychology and we will support you in finding the right therapist that fits what you need right now.

Written by Beth McCay