Damla Ricks, a licensed professional counselor in Texas, made a discovery that surprised even her: therapists who spend their days teaching clients how to set boundaries often can't do it themselves. In a new study published in the Southern Communication Journal from the University of Texas at Arlington, Ricks and Associate Professor Grace Brannon interviewed 20 licensed professional counselors about the invisible labor of keeping the "therapist hat" on, even when they've clocked out.

The research speaks to a problem that has grown sharper over the past six years. Mental health professionals report burnout and emotional exhaustion from high workplace demands, but the strain runs deeper than long hours or difficult clients. Many therapists find themselves unable to separate their professional role from their personal lives, leading friendships to fracture and stress to compound both at work and home.

What makes this challenge so troubling is that therapists recognize its importance. They preach boundary-setting to their clients daily. Yet when it comes to their own relationships, the lines blur almost without them noticing. As Ricks explained, "It's really hard because of how easily the lines blur between being a therapist and just someone else." She described the painful dynamic: therapists sometimes stop having friendships altogether because conversations shift into a therapeutic role, leaving both parties exhausted and the relationship hollow.

Using communication accommodation theory as their analytical lens, Ricks and Brannon found that counselors were both underaccommodating and overaccommodating in their personal interactions—holding back honest conversations to avoid conflict or, conversely, bending over backward to manage others' emotions. These patterns, born from years of training to attend to others' needs, were creating loneliness and compounding work-related stress. Friendships ended. Burnout intensified.

The study revealed something encouraging, though: therapists recognize what needs to change and are hungry for practical guidance. Ricks and Brannon identified three concrete recommendations that could ease the burden. First, mental health organizations need systemic change—structured time for therapists to recharge between clients rather than back-to-back sessions that leave them depleted. Second, therapists must prioritize their own self-care routines, treating their wellness as non-negotiable rather than aspirational. Third, they need permission and tools to communicate clearly and set proper boundaries in close relationships without guilt.

Ricks herself has applied these lessons. "As a licensed counselor, the ways this research has helped me is recognizing when there is too much going on and realizing I probably shouldn't have dinner plans after a long day at work," she said. That small act—declining an evening commitment after an emotionally taxing day—represents a shift in perspective: self-advocacy as a form of professional responsibility, not selfishness.

The implications extend beyond individual therapists. When mental health providers are burned out, isolated, and unable to model healthy boundaries, the entire system suffers. Clients lose access to their best selves. The profession loses skilled practitioners. But the good news buried in this research is that the solutions are actionable. They don't require reinventing the wheel—just recognizing that the people who hold space for others deserve the chance to hold space for themselves.