My perception of group therapy, for the most part, was shaped by movies: a struggling main character in a mental health hospital sits in a circle with a group of people dressed in brown-stained white gowns. A therapist in a white coat with a clipboard leads the session, ominously writing things down as the person sharing their story is greeted by the rest of the group in unison. So initially, when my individual therapist recommended group therapy for my anxiety, I was terrified.
Of course, I know not everything in movies is true, but I had genuinely not seen any other depiction or mention of group therapy. I immediately imagined myself in that stained white coat surrounded by eerie peers and an intimidating therapist who welcomed me off-puttingly in unison.
However, the more I thought about it, attending group therapy seemed like a good first step in challenging my fear, and the commitment was only for a semester. So, I agreed to go. And after my first day, despite what movies and my anxiety had been telling me, I found that group therapy is completely different from how it’s negatively depicted, and it changed everything for me.
That first day, I woke up with jitters and had no idea what to expect. My time in the waiting room was spent anxiously bouncing my leg and looking around, trying to guess who else in the room was going on this semester-long journey with me. When the therapist came out and called for the anxiety group, instead of finding a scary person in a white coat, I found a kind-looking woman in a colorful shirt and jeans. And although she looked friendly, I still wasn’t convinced.
I found that I was not alone in a lot of my symptoms and anxiety episodes, which none of my peers outside of therapy ever seemed to have or relate to.
Once I got inside the room, though, I was able to relax. We were sitting in rolling desk chairs at a large brown table with a TV at one end of it. We started with an icebreaker (which probably gave everyone in the room even more anxiety), then followed a guided YouTube meditation video with leaves on a stream to ground ourselves for the session.
As the session went on, we followed along in a packet the therapist had given to everyone, which went over common causes, symptoms, and coping skills for anxiety. There was no creepy unison speaking, no awkward silence as people spoke, and no ominous clipboard writing. While in individual sessions, my therapist did use a clipboard, I was happy it was missing from the group therapy scene, as I felt it would add to the overall pressure.
In the following weeks, my peers and I opened up and began to share our stories, which were always followed by reassurance, advice from the therapist, or some other form of acknowledgment. Personal, vulnerable stories were never followed by clipboard scribbling noises and a simple “thank you,” as I saw in most movies. Initially, I had expected to feel singled out, so I was surprised when what helped me most was the sense of community group therapy gave me: I found that I was not alone in a lot of my symptoms and anxiety episodes, which none of my peers outside of therapy ever seemed to have or relate to.
Rather than being awkward, terrifying, and unsettling, it genuinely became a safe space for me to share my struggles with anxiety, learn how to cope the right way, and take part in a community where I felt seen.
After the semester was over, some group members exchanged Instagram account information and phone numbers, as we could not be friends while actively in the group for confidentiality. Scrolling through these accounts was the first time I got to see who these people were outside of group therapy, and I realized then that I would not have been able to guess that any of these people shared my struggle had we not met in group therapy. For the first time ever, I think I truly understood what people mean when they say we never really know what someone is going through.
Going to group therapy changed everything I thought I knew about the experience: Rather than being awkward, terrifying, and unsettling, it genuinely became a safe space for me to share my struggles with anxiety, learn how to cope the right way, and take part in a community where I felt seen.
While it likely isn’t for everyone, you might be surprised by how much it can help in unexpected ways. Despite it being a group for anxiety, I ended up learning how to have more compassion for myself and others — and later I found out that there is a group that focuses specifically on self-compassion, too. Although it may seem intimidating, if you have any curiosity or desire to try group therapy for yourself, I think it is worth pushing through the initial fear. I promise it is nothing like what you may have seen — so much so that it might even end up positively changing your life.
If you or someone you know is seeking help for mental health concerns, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) website, or call 1-800-950-NAMI(6264). For confidential treatment referrals, visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) website, or call the National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP(4357).
In an emergency, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK(8255) or call 911.