Do Therapists Get Bored? A Candid Look at What’s Really Happening in the Room

"Don't you ever get bored, just listening to people's problems all day?"

It's a question I get asked sometimes, usually by people who can't imagine a job with so much stillness and listening. And I get it. We all project our own dispositions onto the world. If you know you'd find a job boring, it's hard to imagine someone else finding it endlessly engaging.

So, do I ever get bored? My answer is a contradiction. The truthful answer is no. The accurate answer is yes, sometimes.

Let me explain.

The Truthful Answer: Why My Default State is Engagement

Think of the weather in Sydney. A truthful statement would be, "The weather is great all year round." And it mostly is. But an accurate statement would acknowledge the occasional weeks of constant rain or the chilly winter days.

My truthful "no" comes from my fundamental disposition. I am endlessly fascinated by people's stories. My favorite genre of book is autobiography. My preferred social interactions are deep, one-on-one conversations. I am curious about the human experience — not in a judgmental way, but from a place of wanting to understand. This is a large part of why I became a therapist in the first place.

When I am in a session with a client, I am engaged in an act of deep, hyper-focused listening. It's a flow state, similar to a musician lost in a piece or an athlete in the zone. I am tracking the words, the tone, the body language, the unspoken emotions beneath the surface. This state of active, engaged presence doesn't leave much room for boredom. Which is why I can truthfully say, no, I don't get bored.

The Accurate Answer: Redefining Boredom

But what about the "yes"? What about the moments when my attention does wander? First, it's important to distinguish between distraction and boredom. A distraction is usually external — a loud noise from the street, a word a client says that triggers a fleeting personal memory. I do my best to manage these and quickly refocus.

Boredom, however, is something different. It's an internal signal, and a much more important one.

When I think about real boredom, my mind goes back to my childhood. Sitting in a dull class, watching the clock tick. Trapped in the back of a car on a 12-hour road trip through a featureless landscape. Stuck in church. In all these memories, the core feeling isn't just a lack of stimulation; it's a sense of emotional resistance. It was the feeling of being trapped in a situation I did not want to be in, powerless to change it.

When "Boredom" Shows Up in Therapy: An Alarm Bell, Not a Judgment

On the rare occasion that I feel a flash of that old feeling in a session — a thought like, "Oh God, not this again" — I have learned to take it very seriously.

This feeling is not a judgment about the client. It is never because the client is "boring." It is a crucial piece of data.

It's an emotional alarm bell that my system is sending me, and it almost always means one of two things is happening in the therapeutic process:

1. We are stuck. We might be circling the same issue over and over without getting to its core, and my feeling of boredom is a sign of this unproductive loop.

2. A boundary is being tested. A client might have a pattern of showing up late, or pushing back against the structure of our work in a subtle way. That flicker of annoyance is a signal that a boundary needs to be gently but firmly re-established.

In either case, my "boredom" is a call to action. It's a signal that I need to tune in more deeply, to get curious about the process itself, and to ask: What is happening here, in this room, that needs our attention?

A Question for You

So, the truthful answer is no, I don't get bored. But the accurate answer is that I do sometimes experience a feeling I've learned to recognize not as boredom, but as a vital signpost. It's an opportunity to improve the work I'm doing.

This leads me to a question for you to reflect on. In what ways do you experience boredom in your own life? And what do you think that boredom might be trying to tell you?

Often, it is a messenger, arriving to let us know that something is out of alignment. Perhaps, if we can learn to listen to it with curiosity instead of shame, it can show us the way to a more engaged and authentic life.

If you're feeling stuck and want to explore the deeper patterns that might be holding you back, I offer therapy sessions for individuals and couples online and in-person in Paris. You can learn more on my website.