Not being able to achieve anything within the timeline set by society, she felt stuck and started questioning her life choices. She turned to yoga and meditation to bring clarity and began journaling to release her emotions. From that moment began her self-exploration journey which changed the way she saw herself and the world around her.
Then COVID happened. At the time when the world was fighting against the disease, she was busy fighting this constant nagging feeling in her that she hadn’t really achieved her full potential yet but was not sure how. In those moments of introspection, she realized her love for psychology was still there and this time she wanted to commit to it with complete dedication. She enrolled herself in the master's program with no specific agenda but to enrich her knowledge and experience.
Already familiar with the subject, she now studied it with more passion and vigor. Soon enough, she was intrigued by how psychology had a name for every feeling a human being goes through. There was still no intention to become a therapist though, but something in her was shifting. During the final semester of pursuing psychology, she was quite certain that she would continue in this field, in whatever capacity she could. After completing her master's, she spent one full year getting trained to become a trusted therapist.
During one such training, she was given a client to work with. And that was the final spark she needed to burn all notions of perfection she had. She started embracing her own vulnerabilities. And this developed a profound need to help people around her.
“It was life-changing,” she says softly. “This is my way of contributing to the world,” she adds.
For the first time, her honesty was not brushed aside. It was received. It mattered to people, and it mattered to her. No one had appreciated her honesty before that. Dots were slowly connecting on their own, in baby steps, but there was no looking back for her.
“The biggest disease is what will people say”
When Aditi talks about why people hesitate to seek therapy, she calmly speaks, “Subse bada rog kya kahenge log.”
She often finds herself asking her clients simple questions that stay with them longer than any explanation. How do you feel? What do you actually want? Is this coming from society, or from within you? For her, the shame around therapy is not really about therapy. It is about how disconnected we are from ourselves.
“Why is going to a doctor normal, but going to a therapist feels different?” she asks.
Because yes, talking about therapy is an urgent need. According to the World Health Organization, 1 in 7 people globally lives with some form of mental disorder, and in India alone, nearly 150 million people require active psychological intervention. Data from the National Crime Records Bureau shows that over 1.7 lakh people died by suicide in India in 2022, a heartbreaking and staggering number linked to stress, relationship struggles, and emotional distress that remains less spoken of.
Aditi does not try to make people speak. She gives them time.
“A lot of patience, a lot of gentleness,” she says. “They will open up when they are ready.”
When someone struggles to express themselves, she doesn’t force herself to fill the spaces. She sits with it. She doesn’t stitch those gaps and pauses. She listens without trying to fix or interpret too quickly. She states we must just drop the bias while listening.
It comes from her own experience too. She remembers times when she was hurting and all she wanted was someone to listen, but instead, people offered solutions. It never helped in the way she needed. So now, she tries to offer what she once needed.
“Not answers, but presence”, she expresses empathetically.
She recalls one of them saying that it is not always what she says, but how she is present with them in the session that creates their healing space. Aditi works with a person-centered approach. She believes people already carry the capacity to heal within themselves, given the right environment. Empathy and acceptance, she affirms with conviction, are enough sometimes. She also draws from psychoanalytic understanding, helping people see how their present patterns are often shaped by past experiences and relationships that were never fully processed.
“Therapy is often about the therapeutic relationship between the client and the therapist. It is the safe space between the therapist and the client where real healing begins.”
There is no complete healing
Aditi does not believe in the idea of complete healing. “There is nothing like that”, she states calmly.
What changes instead is our relationship with pain. We begin to understand it, hold it differently, and slowly learn how to live with it without letting it take over everything.
“We know less about dealing with emotions,” she adds. “We think it's a weakness to show emotions and our vulnerabilities. It’s not. On the contrary, it's immense strength.”
In India, the reality of seeking help is grim. Studies by the National Mental Health Survey suggest that nearly 80 to 85 percent of people with mental health issues do not receive treatment, often due to deep-rooted stigma, lack of access, or simply not knowing where to go. Some people take months to open up. Some take longer, especially when trauma runs deep or has been carried across generations.
For Aditi, healing is not about becoming untouched by pain, but getting more aware, more connected, and more compassionate toward oneself, even in the presence of it.
That is when she sometimes pauses and asks her clients, “Do we think you need further therapy? ... Why do we continue?”, all with her saliently polite demeanor.
She does not push people to stay, and she does not rush them to leave.
“It is always their decision,” she declares.
There are moments in therapy when she does not have the answer. And she admits it peacefully with no contradiction, telling them honestly that she doesn't know, but they will figure it out together.
“Instead of breaking trust, it often builds it,” she confirms with a smile.
She also believes deeply in supervision, that every therapist should have someone they can turn to when they feel stuck. Someone with more experience who can guide them. She has that support system in place, through both peer groups and individual supervision. She is also mindful of the kind of cases she takes on. For work that is beyond her training and expertise, she willingly refers clients out to fellow psychologists who might be a better fit.
“I don’t want to pretend I understand something I don’t,” she says humbly.
There is honesty in that, even if it means saying no, no?
Holding space without losing herself
“Therapists are human,” she quickly admits, when I ask her how she deals with her own inner complexities.
There are days when she feels like an impostor. There are cases that feel heavy around the chest and ribs, especially when someone comes in with suicidal thoughts. In such situations, she recommends reaching out to a supervisor, referring the client to a psychiatrist, and ensuring they have support around.
“Staying present with the client and not trying to handle everything alone is beneficial in the client's wellness journey.”
When the work gets overwhelming and she feels completely emotionally drained, she does not hide it from herself. She will frankly tell a client they might be better off with another therapist, which for her, is a profound act of care. That same clarity helps her recognize complex family dynamics.
She interestingly notes that sometimes the person who actually needs therapy is the one who brought the client in. The supposed victim sitting in front of her may not need therapy as much as the controlling relative who brought them into the room in the first place.
When she doesn’t feel like her own self, she takes a break and leans on her family. She allows herself rest. She watches shows, reaches out to friends, and stays connected to small communities where she can open up without hesitation. She journals often, as it helps things make sense.
Mindfulness, for Aditi, is not something that has a fixed definition or a ritual. For her, it is in these small acts of checking in with herself, asking questions, and listening without rushing to conclusions. “Everyone settles into what suits them,” she adds after a pause.
For Aditi, emotional health is not about being perfect or always in control. It is about awareness. About noticing what you feel without immediately labeling it. “The day you stop judging yourself”, she murmurs softly in complete control, “you don’t need validation.” She believes that with a little guidance and support, people learn to compose themselves better. Not necessarily alone, but with more awareness, more compassion.
“Connect with yourself,” she sighs.
There are moments that stay. A client once told her, after months of working together, “You changed the way I see myself now.” Neither does her ego swell with pride hearing this, nor does she carry her clients’ pain with her. “It can feel emotionally draining,” she silently speaks with an assuring smile, “but I don't carry it.”
She is learning the art of knowing where to draw that line.
Aditi has been practicing for about a year and a half. She admits she still feels like an impostor sometimes. She is still learning, still figuring things out, still growing into this role. But maybe that is what allows her to sit with people the way she does. Not as someone who has all the answers, but as someone who is willing to stay. Because sometimes, that is all it takes. To sit with another human being, without judgment, without trying to fix them, and without rushing through the process. Not seeking a result or an outcome, but sharing that uncomfortable space, where harmony strikes, humanness blends, and healing begins.
