The Day I Realised I Was Working Harder Than My Client

 

The Day I Realised I Was Working Harder Than My Client

By Niki Gent

There’s a moment in nearly every practitioner’s career — whether you’re a therapist, support worker, or team leader — when you suddenly realise: I’m doing all the work here.

You walk away from a session exhausted.
You spend hours outside of work writing notes, researching services, or losing sleep over a client’s situation.
You show up ready, focused, emotionally invested — and in return, you get silence, resistance, missed appointments, or repeated crises.

That moment hit me years ago, during a session with a client I’d worked with for months. I had poured everything I had into our time together. I adjusted my calendar for their schedule, advocated for additional supports, contacted services on their behalf, and followed up every lead. But they kept missing meetings. They rarely completed agreed actions. And when they did show up, I was met with a shrug and a blank stare.

At first, I was frustrated. Then I was hurt. Then I was just tired.

And then it hit me — I was working harder than my client.
And that wasn’t just unsustainable. It was unethical.

Because here’s the truth: support work, therapy, and human service roles are meant to be collaborative. We walk beside people — we don’t drag them.
When we find ourselves over-functioning — doing the emotional, mental, or behavioural labour for someone else — it’s not empowering. It’s enabling.
It creates a dynamic where the client becomes a passive passenger and the worker becomes the engine. And over time, that leads to burnout for one person and stagnation for the other.

But it’s a trap many of us fall into — especially when we care deeply. Especially when we’ve walked similar paths. Especially when we see potential.
We forget that our role is to offer support — not to carry someone through change.

When I realised what was happening in that dynamic, I made a shift.
I stopped trying to be the rescuer.
I stopped doing the work outside the room.
I began setting boundaries — clear ones. And I began to explore why I felt so responsible in the first place.

Was it a need to feel useful? A fear of failure? A story about what “success” meant in my role?

That shift didn’t just improve my client relationships. It changed how I led my team. I started asking:

• Where are we confusing overworking with excellence?

• Are we measuring success by how much we do — or by how much our clients are able to do for themselves?

• Are we teaching people to depend on us — or to trust themselves?

Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can say to a client is:
“This is your work — and I believe you can do it.”
That doesn’t mean we stop supporting. It means we support with intention, boundaries, and a deep respect for the person’s autonomy.

So if you’re feeling drained, ask yourself:

• Am I over-functioning here?

• Am I respecting this person’s readiness — or rushing their process?

• What am I carrying that isn’t mine?

Because you can’t carry someone else’s transformation.
You can only create the conditions where change is possible — and then let them do the work.

That’s not detachment.
That’s professionalism.
And it’s the only way to do this work in a way that lasts.

About the Author,

Niki has worked in Child Protection, Family Law, Juvenile Justice and NDIS for over 20 years.  Having worked extensively with families, government departments, not for profits and privately owned large and small businesses, Niki understands the needs of families, the pressures of compliance, quality and sustainability, and the need to work smart, be resilient, and know who we work for and who we work with.