Key Takeways
Decolonizing therapy is an active practice, not a settled position
If you've ever left a therapy session feeling like you had to translate parts of yourself to fit what the room was built for, you know this isn't abstract. The shape of care matters. The language it's offered in matters. Whose work shaped it, and whose was left out, matters.
At our Vancouver-based practice, offering therapy online across Canada, we're a team holding the question of how our work can keep moving toward liberation rather than away from it. Not as a destination we've reached. As an active, accountable practice that keeps asking for correction.
Jennifer Mullan's book Decolonizing Therapy: Oppression, Historical Trauma, and Politicizing Your Practice has been a touchstone for us. It didn't hand us a finished answer. It gave us language, challenge, and a set of questions we keep returning to. This post is less about the book itself and more about what doing this work has actually meant for our practice.
What decolonizing therapy means here
Decolonizing is a word that gets used in many ways, some careful and some loose. We want to be clear about what we mean when we use it.
We mean naming that therapy has a history. That history includes colonial violence, the pathologization of BIPOC and queer and disabled bodies and minds, and the quiet assumption that a single way of being human is the norm. Those patterns did not disappear when the field became more inclusive on the surface. They live in whose work gets cited, whose healing traditions get called evidence-based and whose get called folk, what gets diagnosed and what gets honoured.
We mean working toward a practice that does not require a person to make themselves smaller, flatter, or more palatable in order to receive care. A practice where the context of someone's life, including history, land, lineage, systems, and body, is not treated as an afterthought. Where what has happened to a person is not mistaken for who they are.
We also mean being honest that this work is ongoing, imperfect, and accountable. We are not done. We expect to keep being corrected, and we are trying to build a practice that can hold correction without defensiveness.
What this looks like in the room
Some of the specific commitments we hold ourselves to:
- Naming power in the room. Identity, history, and position matter, and we do not pretend they are neutral. We are clear about what we bring and what we do not, and we treat those facts as part of the work rather than as disclaimers.
- Centring the context of your life. History, land, lineage, systems, and community are part of what you bring. We treat them as part of the story, not as background noise.
- Working at your pace. Consent and agency are not techniques we layer on top of a treatment plan. They are the structure of the work. You decide what we do and what we don't.
- Learning on our own time. Ongoing study on historical trauma, anti-oppressive practice, disability justice, and Indigenous and ancestral approaches happens on our hours, not in yours. We do not ask clients to educate us.
- Keeping accessible therapy as structure, not afterthought. We hold lower-cost spots in the practice through our low-cost counselling offering, and we keep working on the real question of who can afford the care we offer.
- Pointing elsewhere when we are not the right fit. If another therapist or community would serve you better, we say so. Fit matters more than filling our calendar.
None of these are new inventions. They come from the teachers and clients and writers whose work we stand on.
What we are still learning
Being honest about this part matters as much as any of the rest.
We are still learning how to name power early in our work with a new person without making the naming itself a performance. We are still learning when structure serves a person and when it gets in their way. We are still learning the difference between being trauma-informed and being actually trustworthy, which are related but not identical. We are still learning how to hold our rates against the real needs of our communities, and how to widen access without burning out our team.
Some of this we will keep getting right and wrong. Naming that openly, rather than presenting a polished face, feels more aligned with the work than pretending we have arrived. A practice that cannot admit where it is still unfolding cannot actually do this work. That's a piece of what Mullan's writing returns us to again and again.
If you are looking for care
This post is not meant to suggest our practice is the only way to find anti-oppressive care. We are a small team, and we are imperfect. Many readers will be better served by a BIPOC therapist than by us, and we want to name that clearly rather than quietly.
If you are looking for a BIPOC-led therapist or carer in Canada, the Healing in Colour directory is a strong starting point. Its practitioners are BIPOC-identified and listed across provinces. BIPOC Therapists of Canada is another trusted resource. You may also be interested in low-cost counselling with us.
If our practice feels like a fit, if what you want is affirming relational and somatic work, offered Vancouver-based and online across Canada, we are here. The invitation is not to be managed or fixed by us. The invitation is to meet, with dignity on both sides, and to see together what becomes possible from there.
Frequently Asked Questions
What do you mean by decolonizing therapy, in practical terms?
We mean a practice that keeps examining whose work shaped it and whose was left out, that treats a person's context as part of the story rather than background noise, and that does not require a client to shrink or translate themselves to fit the room. We do not treat decolonization as a certification or a finished project. It's an ongoing, accountable way of doing the work.
Is this kind of therapy only for BIPOC clients?
No. Anti-oppressive, context-informed therapy is for anyone who wants care that takes the whole of their life into account. That said, BIPOC clients have specific needs that sometimes are better met by a BIPOC therapist. We will always support you in finding the right fit, even if that fit is not us.
How does a white-led practice approach this work without overstepping?
Carefully, slowly, and with ongoing accountability. It means naming our positions clearly, centring the teachers and writers whose work shapes our practice, keeping learning on our own time, and being willing to point readers toward BIPOC-led care when that is what will serve them best. It also means staying teachable, because this work does not have a finish line.
I'm a therapist interested in this work. Where might I start?
Start with reading practitioners who have been doing this work longer than you have, and pay attention to what they are asking of you. Jennifer Mullan's writing is one place. Disability justice writers like Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha are another. Look into Indigenous and Black somatic lineages. Then find ongoing peer consultation with people who will tell you the truth about your practice, not flatter it.
