The Part of Therapy No One Explains—and Why You Keep Baking a Cake When You Need a Sandwich

Therapy isn’t just about fixing problems. Learn the overlooked relational part of therapy—and why old survival patterns feel so real in the present.

Therapy has two parts - but our culture usually only talks about one of them.

The Consumer Part

The first is the consumer part. A person has a problem, seeks help, and wants relief. This part fits easily into medical and business models - diagnose, treat, improve. It’s familiar, structured, and culturally comfortable. This is the one we hear about.

The Relational Part

The second part is relational. And this is where therapy becomes harder to define—and harder to market. This is the one we don’t hear about.

Why Therapy Is Hard to Simplify

One reason therapy resists simple explanations is the sheer range of what shows up in the room. Therapy isn’t working with just one kind of problem. Even when someone feels a single symptom - like anxiety - that doesn’t mean the cause is singular or simple.

Good therapy is personalized. It works with personality patterns, attachment histories, developmental interruptions, single overwhelming events, repeated traumatizing experiences, and acute crises. Often, it’s working with several of these at once.

And they don’t exist in isolation.

Layered Problems, Not Either/Or

For example, developmental trauma can create a nervous system that is more vulnerable to being rocked by later events. This means a person can be impacted - or even traumatized - by experiences that might be merely stressful for someone else. Those later events often deepen the original coping patterns, creating a vicious cycle.

The work isn’t either/or. It’s layered.

Second-Hand vs First-Hand Knowledge

Most people are comfortable talking to their therapist about what happened between them and someone else outside the therapy room. That matters and is valuable - but it’s also second-hand knowledge. It’s memory filtered through time, interpretation, and self-protection.

Something different happens when people talk about what’s happening between them and the therapist. That’s first-hand knowledge. The reactions are live. The body responds. Old patterns don’t need to be reconstructed - they show up on their own.

This is why it can be valuable to name how the therapist is being experienced in the moment. Whether they seem bored, interested, distant, irritated, calming, perfect, or completely incompetent, those impressions often tell us less about accuracy and more about which old patterns are coming online. When they’re spoken out loud, they become something we can actually work with.

This isn’t being rude or oversharing. It’s allowing material that might feel culturally awkward to surface - material that, psychologically, is often where unconscious emotions and memories are trying to be seen and heard.

Why Old Patterns Feel So Real

Our brains are designed to keep us alive while using as little energy as possible. When we survive emotionally overwhelming moments - especially ones where fear, shame, anger, or grief couldn’t be fully expressed - the brain records what worked.

Not as a list of details from the event, but as a total recipe.

That recipe includes coping strategies, body responses, and beliefs about the self and others. Because it helped us survive, it gets coded as accurate and efficient. Later, when enough familiar ingredients show up in the present - tone of voice, closeness, authority, disappointment—the brain automatically pulls that recipe back online.

The problem is that memory doesn’t feel like memory.
It feels like now.

So we don’t realize we’re trying to bake a cake in a moment that actually calls for a sandwich. Both situations may include similar ingredients - salt and flour - but they require entirely different outcomes. The cake recipe once made sense. It kept us alive. But it was never meant to become permanent.

It was a survival solution that got stuck, leaving us less flexible when familiar ingredients appear again in the future.

Where Clinical Judgment Comes In

This is where therapy becomes more than technique.

Some incomplete self-protective responses are best worked through intrapersonally—with the therapist coaching from the outside as sensations, emotions, and impulses are noticed and allowed to complete.

Other patterns work best interpersonally—with a therapist who is both coaching and participating, a kind of player-coach.

The Therapist Is Part of the System

The therapist is not outside this process.

Imagine gently dipping your hand into the water along a riverbank. You’re not just observing the river—you’re interacting with it. The water is impacted by your hand and may react to that impact; it may get warmer or colder, or move faster or slower around your hand. That reaction holds information.

In therapy, the therapist’s internal responses matter in the same way. Feeling a sudden chill or warmth can signal a coded moment emerging. At the same time, a skilled therapist knows their own hands. They work to recognize what belongs to them and what belongs to the shared moment. This part, by human nature, is a little inefficient and messy.

However, this unavoidable interplay isn’t a flaw in therapy. It’s part of how therapy works.

Why Analog Holds Both Parts

There is no simple model that captures all of this. Medical, expert, and influencer models are easy to communicate - but they ignore the relational part. When that part is missing, disappointing outcomes collapse into blame: the clinician failed, or the client failed.

At Analog, we refuse to separate the two parts of therapy, even though holding them together is difficult and messy. We aim to be both player and coach - guiding the work while knowing we are part of it.

This is why integrating psychoanalytic therapy with Somatic Experiencing matters so much to us. One helps us understand patterns and meaning. The other helps the nervous system complete what was once interrupted—so old survival code can loosen and something more flexible can take its place.

It’s harder to explain.

And it’s why it works.

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By: Aaron Mitchum Aaron Mitchum By: Aaron Mitchum Aaron Mitchum

What is trauma?

Dr. Peter Levine created Somatic Experiencing (c) but what does he mean by “Trauma is incomplete self-protective responses waiting to be completed”? Think of it this way:

 

“Trauma is incomplete self-protective responses waiting to be completed.”

Dr. Peter Levine

 

Dr. Peter Levine created Somatic Experiencing (c) but what does he mean by “Trauma is incomplete self-protective responses waiting to be completed”? Think of it this way:

  • A threatening moment (could be emotional overwhelm or an outside threat to our safety) causes an automatic reaction towards trying to keep you alive. We usually think of these as fight, flight or freeze.

  • These are are meant to “complete”. Meaning they are meant to cause us to feel certain emotions & take certain actions until we register that the overwhelm or threat is gone or done.

  • When we don’t allow our system to complete* those fight/flight/freeze reactions get stuck in our systems and cause problems (like depression/anxiety/and more)

  • Somatic Experiencing therapy can help the body safely complete these cycles and let go of the enormous amount of energy that is being used by the stuck fight/flight/freeze attempts and bring order back to your nervous system.

*Reasons we don’t allow our systems to complete fight/flight/freeze are numerous. For example, we might be in a car accident or something else extreme and there’s not enough time to move our bodies to protect ourselves like we want to (I fell off a tall ramp skateboarding at 39 broke my elbow and had this experience) , emotionally we might feel a murderous rage in reaction to a co-worker or a boss but we can’t act on that so we squash it and dissociate from our rage because we don’t know how to handle it without feeling out of control. Another emotional example is we receive heartbreaking news but are in public or with our young kids and don’t feel we can truly cry and grieve in that situation so we squash it and dissociate from the grief and the pain. A final example is as children we may not have felt safe to express our fear to our parents or teachers or peers and we learned to squash it and dissociate from it.

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