You’ve just sat down for your first therapy session. Your heart’s racing a little. You’re not sure where to start, or whether your words will come out the right way. Maybe you rehearse a bit in your head. Maybe you wonder, “What is my therapist thinking right now? Are they judging me?” 

Don’t worry, they’re probably not. 

Therapists aren’t judging your story; they’re listening underneath it. They’re noticing the things you didn’t even realize you were showing: the way your eyes darted when you mentioned your partner, how your shoulders curled in when you said, “I’m fine,” the slight tremble in your hands when you talked about work. 

Let’s explore what therapists are really noticing in the room… and why that might be the most freeing thing of all. 

Most people assume therapy begins the moment they start talking. But seasoned therapists like Grazel Garcia know: it actually starts the moment you walk in. 

How you enter the room says something. How you greet your therapist, whether with a smile, a nod, or no eye contact at all, gives early insight into your internal state. Your posture, how you settle into the chair, whether you grip the armrests or sink in slowly… all of it speaks before you do. 

Life often moves at breakneck speed, but these micro-moments of observation in individual therapy in Los Angeles are a way to help clients slow down and connect with what’s really happening inside. The goal isn’t to interpret every gesture like a code, but to stay attuned to the full picture of your presence: verbal, emotional, embodied. 

And often, clients don’t even realize what they’re doing until it’s gently reflected back. That moment of realization, of being seen without having to explain, is where the work begins. 

Have you ever noticed your eyes drifting somewhere specific when you’re talking about something hard? Maybe you glance up when recalling a painful memory, or look off to the left when trying to find the right words. To most people, it feels incidental. But to a trained therapist, especially one who practices Brainspotting like Grazel Garcia, it’s a window into how your brain protects you. 

It’s not formulaic. One client may consistently look left when speaking about a childhood memory not because they’re avoiding it, but because that direction has become a subconscious safe resource. Another client might gaze downward when accessing grief, and up when discussing anger. The key is noticing patterns, not prescribing or making assumptions. 

This insight becomes particularly valuable with individual therapy clients in Los Angeles, where diverse cultural backgrounds, neurodivergent presentations, and high-functioning coping styles can mask inner pain. Eye movement becomes a clue, a breadcrumb trail, guiding both client and therapist toward healing without needing words. 

And the research backs it up. Studies have shown that somatic-based therapies, like Brainspotting, led to a significant reduction in distress in clients with trauma-related symptoms. 

You might think you’re coming across as “fine”, but your body could be saying something very different. 

That’s one of the first things therapists begin to notice: the way your emotions show up in your body. And spoiler alert, it’s rarely textbook! Anger doesn’t always look like yelling. Anxiety doesn’t always mean nail-biting or pacing. Emotions wear many costumes, and each person’s wardrobe is different. 

In therapy, the role of the therapist isn’t to diagnose from across the room, but to gently tune into how your unique system expresses emotion. One person might shut down and look away when they feel ashamed. Another might get loud when they’re scared, not angry. Some talk and talk, filling every pause, not to dominate the space, but because vulnerability is terrifying, and silence feels too close to exposure. 

This work becomes even more nuanced and complex with neurodivergent clients, whose emotional expressions may be filtered through sensory sensitivity, social exhaustion, or misread energy levels. For one client, intensity might read as anger. For another, it’s just how their brain processes information. 

It’s not about fitting into a diagnostic box, it’s about finding your emotional language. 

You know that moment in therapy when the topic hits a little too close and suddenly you’re talking in circles, making jokes, or going completely quiet? 

That’s resistance. But this might be surprising to hear: it’s not a bad thing. In fact, it might be one of the most important things a therapist notices. 

Resistance shows up in many ways: over-talking, intellectualizing, withdrawing, avoiding eye contact, changing the subject, or even turning the questions back on the therapist. And while some might see this as a block, a skilled therapist sees it as a clue: one that reveals what needs protection. 

Research shows that resistance is common, particularly early in therapy. In fact, many clients experience some form of resistance or defensiveness in initial sessions and that’s not a barrier to healing, but often the doorway to it. 

The world rewards urgency, and in that context, therapy invites something radical: slowness. 

For many clients, especially in fast-paced cities like Los Angeles, even being still feels unfamiliar if not uncomfortable. We’re taught to keep moving, push through, stay productive. But in therapy, healing often begins in the pause. 

Therapists like Grazel use this slowing-down as a tool, not to delay progress, but to deepen it. When sessions slow to a more mindful pace, clients begin to notice things they’ve never had space to feel: how their chest tightens when they talk about family, how their voice softens when they speak of grief, how their leg bounces whenever the subject of work comes up. 

In individual therapy in Los Angeles, slowing down is a necessity. Processing complex emotions requires true, authentic presence to the moment. And that presence requires time. Time to drop down into your body, time to let yourself experience what’s really going on for you instead of pushing it away. 

And the science agrees: Mindfulness-based therapies have been shown to reduce anxiety and depression symptoms. That’s why we’ve heard so much about them over the past 10 – 20 years. 

Progress in therapy isn’t always a grand epiphany or a dramatic transformation. Sometimes, it looks like taking a breath before you speak. Sometimes, it’s choosing not to respond to that text right away. Sometimes, it’s the moment you realize you didn’t cry this time. 

Therapists like Grazel are trained to notice these small, quiet wins. Even when you don’t. 

Clients often walk into sessions unsure if they’re getting anywhere. But over time, they start to report small shifts: “I didn’t yell.” “I said no.” “My mom actually listened this time.” These moments may seem insignificant at first, but to a therapist, they’re milestones. 

In fact, research from the American Psychological Association shows that 82% of clients report noticeable improvements within six sessions.

At GGPA, somatic awareness is woven into every session. You might be asked to pause mid-story and check in: What’s happening in your shoulders? What does your gut feel like right now? It’s not about over-analyzing your body, it’s about befriending it. Because those sensations? They’re messengers. 

This approach is especially valuable in individual therapy in Los Angeles, as disconnection from the body, due to trauma, stress, cultural pressure, or hustle culture, is common in our area. 

If you’ve ever worried about how you “come across” in therapy – if you’re saying too much, not enough, feeling too messy, too emotional – take a breath. 

You don’t have to be polished to be understood. 

A good therapist, like Grazel Garcia, isn’t listening for the perfect narrative. She’s attuned to you: the tone in your voice when you talk about your dad, the way your shoulders lift slightly when you say, “I’m fine,” the silence after a hard truth. 

Therapists notice not to evaluate, but to witness. To help you notice, too.