Can I bring the part I’m least proud of?
There is often a moment before supervision when we decide what to bring. We might choose a complicated client situation, a question about boundaries, or a decision we would appreciate some help thinking through. These are useful conversations.
But sometimes another matter waits quietly behind them.
We felt irritated with a client. We were relieved when someone cancelled. We offered an explanation because sitting with uncertainty felt uncomfortable. Or we noticed, rather reluctantly, how much we wanted a client to like us.
Do we bring that too?
Perhaps one measure of good supervision is what we feel able to say once we arrive.
Most of us know how to present ourselves professionally. We can describe our work thoughtfully, explain our decisions and demonstrate that we understand the relevant theory. There is nothing wrong with this. Yet supervision can become a polished account of our practice, with the awkward parts edited out before the conversation begins.
The supervisor hears what happened, but something important about our experience remains outside the room.
That omission may have less to do with dishonesty than with apprehension. We may wonder what an admission will mean in someone else’s eyes. Will they become concerned about our competence? Will one difficult moment come to define how they see us?
The supervisory relationship develops, in part, through how these moments are received.
Imagine saying, “I realise I’ve been dreading this client’s appointments.”
A quick instruction may close the conversation before we understand it. Immediate reassurance can do something similar. “We all feel like that sometimes” might offer relief, while leaving the experience unexplored.
A thoughtful response makes room for curiosity. When did the dread begin? What happens between you? Is there something you feel unable to say, a limit you have struggled to hold, or a responsibility you have quietly taken on?
Now there is something to work with.
Feeling safe enough to be candid does not remove accountability. Where practice raises a concern, it needs careful attention and sometimes action. Clear expectations about confidentiality, its limits and the supervisor’s responsibilities help us understand the space we are entering. Safety becomes more credible when those boundaries are understood.
Within that space, we can examine a response without having to spend the whole conversation defending ourselves.
This matters because being understood and being challenged can belong in the same conversation. A supervisor may listen closely, recognise our difficulty, and still ask a question we would rather avoid.
“What do you think made it hard to hold that boundary?”
“Could your wish to help be making it difficult to hear their reluctance?”
We may pause. We may feel exposed. We may need time to consider whether the question fits.
Much depends on how it is asked and whether there is room to disagree. Can we say, “That doesn’t quite capture it”? Can the supervisor reconsider? Can we tell them that something they said left us feeling judged?
Candour needs somewhere to go in both directions.
For supervisors, this asks something of us too. We may welcome openness in principle, then feel an urge to advise, correct or demonstrate our expertise when someone reveals a difficulty. Sometimes we need to notice our own discomfort before responding to theirs.
What happens to our face when we hear something unexpected? How quickly do we reach a conclusion? Have we allowed enough space to understand?
These small responses help shape what is brought next time.
Good supervision may leave us encouraged. It may also leave us thoughtful, unsettled or aware that an apology or a change in practice is needed. Its value cannot always be measured by how comfortable we feel when we leave.
Perhaps we recognise it in the next session, when we find ourselves willing to return to something unfinished. We trust that our work will be taken seriously, and that we will be treated with respect while we examine it.
Before our next supervision conversation, it may be worth asking:
What have I been carefully leaving out and what would help me bring it into the room?