The Tyranny of Expectations: Finding Peace in “Good Enough”

When Expectation Meets Reality

Therapists spend a lot of time helping clients make sense of disappointment — that aching gap between what we hoped for and what is. But if we’re honest, we’re not immune to it ourselves.

We expect to feel centred and compassionate every day, to know what we’re doing, to manage our clients’ crises gracefully, and to keep our own inner worlds tidy. We expect progress in them and in us.

And then life reminds us of who’s boss.

Clients cancel. A couple who seemed to be turning a corner arrive mid-argument. We hit a personal low week, just as we’re due to facilitate a group on emotional regulation.

That’s when expectation collides with reality — and if we can hold that tension with kindness, it becomes a place of growth rather than shame.

The “Shoulds” We Live By

We’re a profession riddled with shoulds:

  • I should be more self-aware.
  • I should always model secure attachment.
  • I should have processed my own trauma by now.
  • I should be further along in my career.

Those “shoulds” can sound noble, but they often conceal a fear of not being enough. When our inner critic takes over, every missed attunement or tired session can feel like failure.

It’s the same trap our clients fall into: perfectionism disguised as self-improvement.

The Attachment Roots of Expectation

From an attachment perspective, expectations are never neutral. They emerge from our early relational templates — our internal working models.

If love were conditional, we might have learned that approval comes through performance.
If care was inconsistent, we might still believe we must do everything ourselves.
If we were shamed for need, we may expect to be punished for vulnerability.

These blueprints also shape our professional selves. The over-responsible therapist, the self-critical supervisor, the helper who struggles to rest — each is carrying an attachment echo from the past.

Recognising that softens our inner stance. Instead of striving to be flawless, we can aim to be aware — and compassionate with the parts of us that still try too hard.

Blame Disney (and a Bit of Social Media)

In The Road Less Travelled, Scott Peck opens with the simple truth: “Life is difficult.”

It sounds obvious, but so many of us expect otherwise. I sometimes joke that we can blame Disney for that illusion — the fantasy that life begins with drama but always ends in a happily ever after.

Reality, of course, is far less tidy. Life is full of ups and downs, uncertainty, and repair. The trick isn’t to remove the difficulty but to carry the quiet confidence that, however steep the hill, we’ll make it to the other side.

Winnicott’s “Good Enough”

Donald Winnicott’s good-enough mother remains one of the most grounding ideas in attachment theory. He observed that perfection (not that that even exists) doesn’t nurture resilience — small, manageable failures do.

The “good-enough” caregiver meets the infant’s needs reliably, but not flawlessly. Over time, those inevitable misattunements and repairs teach the child that the world isn’t ending every time something goes wrong. They learn trust, reality, and emotional regulation.

That same principle applies beautifully to therapy — and to us.

A good-enough therapist doesn’t get it right all the time. We misread, we misspeak, we forget something crucial. But when we notice, name, and repair, something deeply healing happens. The client learns that relationships — even professional ones — can survive imperfection.

The False Self and the Myth of the Perfect Therapist

Winnicott also wrote about the false self — the mask we create when we believe our real self won’t be accepted.

Sound familiar? Many of us wear a subtle professional false self: calm, wise, perpetually empathic. It’s not fake — it’s just not whole. Behind it might sit fatigue, doubt, irritation, grief.

Our clients don’t need our polish; they need our presence. When we can say,

“I think I might have missed you there — could we go back?”
we model authenticity and relational safety far more powerfully than if we’d kept the mask in place.

The Good-Enough Therapist in Practice

Good-enough therapy is not lazy therapy. It’s grounded, relational, and accountable.

It looks like:

  • Noticing mis-attunement without defensiveness.
  • Owning our limits and staying curious.
  • Allowing space for rupture and repair.
  • Accepting that the process is rarely linear — for us or our clients.

And in supervision, it means bringing our mess honestly. The point isn’t to prove how competent we are; it’s to explore where we’re human.

Expectation, Rupture, and Repair

Every therapy relationship contains its own small ruptures — the late reply, the misunderstood tone, the unexplored silence.

Insecurely attached clients may experience those moments as abandonment or rejection. Our job isn’t to prevent them — it’s to make repair possible.

When we name the misstep and stay in the relationship, we offer something radical: the lived experience that disappointment can be survived.

That’s Winnicott in action — frustration as the bridge between expectation and growth.

Practising “Good Enough”

Here are a few ways to keep the concept alive in your day-to-day work:

  1. Catch the “shoulds”.


Notice when you’re driven by obligation rather than compassion. Replace should with could or might. It softens the stance.

  • Normalise imperfection.

Use language that honours repair. “I may have missed something there — can we look again?” invites connection, not judgement.

  • Bring it into supervision.


If you find yourself hiding mistakes, name that. Supervision should model good-enough relating, reflective, not performative.

  • Redefine success.


Ask yourself: Was I attuned most of the time? Did I repair when I wasn’t? That’s integrity, not failure.

  • Teach it forward.


Normalise the mess. Growth doesn’t come from getting it right; it comes from staying when it’s wrong.

The Heart of It

“Good enough” isn’t about settling. It’s about recognising that perfection is brittle, while authenticity bends and breathes.

Our clients don’t heal through flawless technique — they heal through relationship. Through the lived experience of being seen, held, misunderstood a little, and still cared for.

And we, too, heal through that same process — in supervision, in friendship, in family, even in our relationship with ourselves.

So the next time you find yourself whispering, “I should be doing better”, pause and ask instead,

“Am I being good enough?”

Good enough to care.

Good enough to notice.

Good enough to stay in relationship when it’s hard.

That’s where the magic lives.

And if you ever forget, remember Winnicott’s quiet reassurance: the good-enough mother (and therapist) was never perfect — just human, present, and willing to repair.

That’s more than enough!

If you are interested in bringing Attachment into your therapeutic practice, you might like to check out our CPCAB Level 5 Diploma in Attachment Psychotherapeutic Counselling Diploma 😊

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