Parallel processing hits different when you’re a BIPOC therapist. Yes, all therapists are human, and yes, parallel processing is part of the job. But when your client’s trauma, identity, or lived experiences mirror your own—when you don’t just empathize, but relate—the emotional labor doubles, and the lines blur fast.
Add cultural expectations, community responsibility, and the pressure to “keep it together,” and suddenly you’re not just holding space—you’re holding the weight of your ancestors, your people, and your own unhealed stories. That’s a lot.
So, how do we navigate this without emotionally checking out or crumbling under the pressure? Below are four grounded, compassionate (and sometimes brave) ways to move through parallel processing as a BIPOC therapist.
Own the Complexity — You’re Not “Too Sensitive”
You might be the only therapist of color on your team. When you hear stories about racism, family trauma, generational wounds, or microaggressions, you don’t just understand—you live it too. This isn’t about over-identifying or failing to be “objective.” It’s about honoring the reality that your lived experience can’t and shouldn’t be erased in the therapy room. Instead of self-shaming for feeling too deeply, give yourself permission to name the parallel: “This client’s story touched a nerve, and it’s okay that it brought something up for me.”
Supervision Isn’t Just for Skill-Building — It’s for Survival
Let’s be honest: supervision can be hit or miss when your supervisor doesn’t share your cultural background. But when you find someone who gets it, hold on tight. Whether it’s formal supervision, peer consultation, or a group chat with other BIPOC clinicians, you need a space where you can say, “This session activated something for me,” without having to explain your entire existence first.
Find people who understand the nuance of codeswitching, racial fatigue, and what it’s like to do deep healing work while also living in systems that harm you.
Check In With Yourself: Am I Holding This for the Client or for the Culture?
BIPOC therapists often carry unspoken expectations to “represent” the community, to model strength, or to be the cultural translator. It can be exhausting.
- Am I holding this pain because I think I have to?
- Do I feel pressure to “show up” a certain way because of my identity?
- Is this client’s struggle bringing up something I haven’t had space to process yet?
Here is your permission to set that down. You don’t have to hold it all. Your worth as a therapist isn’t tied to how much pain you can carry in silence.
Make Space for Your Healing, Not Just Theirs
You are allowed to take up space. You are allowed to fall apart. You are allowed not to have the answers. Whether it’s therapy, community care, spiritual practice, or creative outlets, your healing matters too.
We tell our clients this all the time: “You can’t pour from an empty cup.” Flip the mirror—what are you doing to refill yours?
What parts of you are still holding trauma that deserve attention? You are worthy of care that doesn’t just sustain you, but liberates you.
As a BIPOC therapist, you carry stories—your own, your family’s, your community’s. When your client’s pain echoes yours, it can be hard to know where their story ends and yours begins. You are allowed to take a step back. To ask for help. To set a boundary. To be a person first and a therapist second.
Parallel processing doesn’t make you weak; it makes you honest. Give yourself the same grace you offer your clients: reflect, reset, and return only when you’re ready. The work is deep—so are you.
