Hey, welcome to the Ariza Inspire Podcast, a space where we slow down and talk honestly about mental health, healing, and the parts of ourselves we’re still trying to understand. I’m Samantha, a licensed professional counselor and no, this isn’t therapy, but a safe place to find some answers to mental health questions we all have. Today we’re digging into a really important question: Why don’t more people go to therapy? Now, on the surface, that question might sound simple—like maybe it’s just about time, money, or not knowing where to start. And sure, those are real factors. But when you peel back the layers, you’ll find something deeper: a whole mix of emotional, cultural, and psychological barriers that keep people from reaching out… even when they want to. So today, we’re going there. We’re talking about the fears, the misconceptions, the shame, and all the invisible weight that makes asking for help feel so heavy Let’s start with something that affects so many of us: cultural and generational stigma. Now stigma is defined as a set of negative and unfair beliefs that a society or group of people have about something. Though therapy is a term heard more freely now, it is not free of the stigma. For generations, therapy was seen as something only for “crazy” people. That word—crazy—gets thrown around so casually, but it carries real damage. These concepts are still deeply ingrained in our day to day and in ways we don’t realize. Think about Halloween, I am pretty sure you saw a lot of haunted asylums out there. This is just another way stigma can show up for us. Now, not for nothing, older generations often didn’t have the language or resources to talk about mental health. So they just… didn’t. Pain was swept under the rug. You sucked it up. You “kept it moving.” And if someone did seek help? They were labeled. Whispered about. Maybe even shamed. And when you grow up in that kind of environment—where emotions are hidden, where pain is private, and where help is a dirty word—you absorb those messages. Even if you know better now, even if you believe in therapy on an intellectual level, that emotional residue sticks around. You might hear a voice in your head saying, “If I go to therapy, it means I’ve failed.” Or, “I should be able to handle this on my own.” That voice? It’s not you. It’s inherited. But it feels like you. And that’s part of what makes it so hard to challenge. Then there’s the internalized belief that needing therapy equals being broken. That something must be fundamentally wrong with you if you can’t “just deal.” I can’t tell you how many people I’ve talked to who’ve said some version of, “Other people have it worse,” or “I’m just being dramatic.” That tendency to downplay our own pain—to compare it, minimize it, dismiss it—is one of the biggest reasons people don’t seek help. As a therapist, I have had many clients come to me with these same ideas. I specialize in a trauma therapy and when I bring up that word, trauma, most people want to shut it down. I usually have to explain that trauma is something that has left you forever changed. So yes, you didn’t get kidnapped or live in a war-torn country, but something happened to you that has changed your trajectory and outlook on your own life. But here’s the thing: pain isn’t a competition. You don’t need to hit rock bottom to justify caring for your mental health. Therapy isn’t reserved for crisis. It’s for confusion. It’s for growth. It’s for the moments when your thoughts feel tangled, and your emotions don’t make sense. It’s for when you think no one else in your life can understand or hear you out. And let’s be honest—those moments happen to everyone. Another reason people hold back? They don’t actually know what therapy is. There’s a lot of confusion about what happens in that room. People imagine lying on a couch while someone with glasses nods silently and takes notes. I mean countless shows portray therapy as such. Or they fear they’ll be interrogated. Or that they’ll have to talk about their childhood right away. Or worse—that they’ll be judged. Even though therapy has evolved so much—there are all kinds of styles, from somatic and trauma-informed approaches to mindfulness-based practices and coaching hybrids—many people still think it’s only for deep, dark, crisis-level stuff. The idea that you have to have a diagnosis or will be prescribed medication in the first session scares most away. And sure, it can help with those things. Yes, therapy helps those who have been diagnosed with mental health conditions. But it’s also a space where you can explore yourself. You can sit in silence. You can cry. You can laugh. You can say, “I have no idea where to start,” and a good therapist will meet you right there. They will hold space for you as you try to uncover what is happening with you. They will shine lights in places that have been hiding. Let’s also talk about the self-judgment that kicks in when someone even considers asking for help. We live in a society that prizes independence—where “I got this” is practically a badge of honor. From a young age, we’re told to be self-sufficient, to solve our own problems, to “man up” or “tough it out.” This concept starts in infancy. I think about when I had my daughter and reading tons of articles on how to get my daughter to sleep independently in the crib without me. The acts of rocking or shushing or even just holding would be seen as a “crutch” that I would have to help her unlearn in the future. Freshly born babies are even being trained in this form of independence. So when someone hits a wall—emotionally, mentally—they often feel ashamed. They think they should be able to fix it themselves. And if they can’t? They feel like they’ve failed. Somehow, we all have this concept that we are failing at life. That there is some grading system or life report card that is being written in the universe. This is especially true for people who grew up without emotional support or were surrounded by highly critical people. The people who grew up feeling that they were only good enough if they were performing well and emotions were an obstacle to overcome or something to be packed away. If you’ve never had anyone say, “It’s okay to not be okay,” then how would you even know it’s an option? And that brings us to another huge piece: self-doubt. There’s a whole inner dialogue that goes something like this: “What if I’m just overreacting?” “What if the therapist thinks I’m too much?” “What if they don’t believe me?” And underneath all of that is this fear of being invalidated. Of opening up and being met with silence—or worse, misunderstanding. That fear is real, especially for folks from marginalized communities who’ve been invalidated, judged, or dismissed when they’ve opened up in the past. And let’s not forget the simple but painful truth that vulnerability is hard. Saying “I need help” is one of the most courageous things you can do—but it’s also terrifying. Especially in a world that tells us strength means never needing anyone. Or even when you are scared of being disappointed. I know for me, that I have a hard time asking for help because what if they won’t help me? Then I have put myself in a position that proves to me that I am really alone. That there aren’t people that I can trust. But the truth is, we’re wired for connection. Humans are social creatures. Historically, we relied on tribes, villages, communities to support one another. But in modern life, that kind of community support has eroded. And a lot of us are left feeling isolated—even when we’re surrounded by people. Therapy can become the one space where you’re fully seen. Where someone is listening—not to fix you, not to judge you, but just… to understand. The therapists’ job is literally to be that support for you. And once people do start therapy? So often, they say the same thing: “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” Because therapy isn’t just about treating anxiety or depression. It’s about learning how your mind works. It’s about naming your emotions, understanding your patterns, and getting clear on what you actually want from your life. It helps you untangle old beliefs—like the idea that you’re not worthy, or that you’re always the problem. It helps you reprocess painful memories that still have a grip on your present. It gives you the tools to face overwhelm with clarity and compassion. Therapy can also be a bridge—connecting you with new perspectives, new communities, and even a deeper connection with yourself. And in a world that often feels isolating, that connection can be life-changing. Most people don’t walk into therapy just because everything’s going great. They come in because they’re lonely. Because their relationships aren’t working. Because they’re tired of feeling stuck. Because something inside them says, “I can’t keep doing this alone.” And that voice? That’s your inner wisdom. That’s the part of you that knows you deserve care. Not just survival—but healing. Wholeness. Understanding. So if you’ve been considering therapy—but haven’t made the move yet—just know: you’re not broken for hesitating. You’re human. There are so many valid reasons to pause, to be unsure, to question. But there are also so many reasons to try. You don’t need to be at rock bottom. You don’t need to have all the answers. All you need is the willingness to show up—and a little bit of courage to start. Thanks for spending this time with me. If this episode sparked something in you, or helped you feel seen, share it with someone else who might need that same reminder. You deserve support. You deserve healing. And therapy is one of many ways to get there. Take care of yourself—and I’ll talk to you soon.