You close the therapy room door behind you, take a few steps toward your car, and feel  your throat tightening, your eyes start to sting, and suddenly you’re crying (again). Maybe you thought the tears would stop once the session ended. Maybe you’re not even sure why they started in the first place. 

This can feel unsettling, especially if you walked into therapy feeling “fine.” But the truth is, leaving a session in tears isn’t a sign of weakness or failure. More often, it’s proof that something important was touched inside you, something you might have been holding onto for a long time. It’s a common thing we witness at GGPA.

Therapy is different from almost any other kind of conversation you’ll have in your day-to-day life. You’re not just talking to a relative stranger, you’re touching feelings and memories that may have been pushed aside for years, even decades. 

When you share a painful or sensitive experience in session, you’re not only telling the story, you’re reliving parts of it. Those moments are often stored in your hippocampus, a part of your brain that keeps long-term memories tucked away. Bringing them into the present can make the emotions feel raw and immediate, as if they’re happening all over again, even though the events that triggered the emotions are far in the past. 

You might notice that after a particularly emotional session, the tears follow you home, into your commute, or even into the rest of your day. This doesn’t mean something went wrong, it means the work you’re doing is reaching the places it needs to. 

After therapy, some people like to sit with what came up and let the feelings wash over them for as long as they need. Others prefer to “park” those emotions so they can get on with the rest of their day. Neither approach is wrong. 

Lingering in your emotions can help you learn to trust them. It’s a way of telling yourself, I can feel this and still be okay. Over time, that trust makes it easier to face deeper, more vulnerable parts of your story. 

Sometimes it’s not possible to park emotions however. Sometimes therapy can stir up emotions that don’t just switch off when the hour ends. Giving yourself some breathing room before diving back into daily responsibilities can make a big difference. 

If possible, avoid scheduling a high-stakes meeting, a difficult phone call, or an intense social commitment immediately after a session. Even 20 – 30 minutes of quiet – whether it’s sitting in your car, walking around the block, or listening to music – can help your nervous system settle. 

Jumping straight into something demanding forces your brain to shift too quickly. While it’s okay to do this every now and then, doing it all the time can train you to shut down or disconnect from your emotions rather than allowing them to move through you. And if emotions aren’t allowed to move through you, they get stuck, which is often when you start to feel stuck. 

These transition moments don’t have to be elaborate or time-consuming. The goal is to give yourself enough space to acknowledge what came up, instead of pushing it away. 

Sometimes, avoidance isn’t intentional, it’s just what you’ve learned to do to cope. It’s often a learned survival mechanism that once served a good purpose. Therapy can help you notice those avoidance patterns and build the skills to re-engage with your feelings at a pace that feels safe. 

Not every tear in therapy means you’ve reached the heart of the wound. Sometimes, crying is a release – a way for your body to let go of built-up tension. Other times, it’s part of a much deeper healing process, where you’re not just expressing emotions but starting to resolve what caused them. 

For clients who are new to therapy, or haven’t had much experience feeling their emotions, it’s important to go slowly. Diving too deep, too soon, can feel unsafe and overwhelming. A good therapist will start by creating a sense of stability, helping you build regulation skills before guiding you into the more tender layers. 

As you grow more comfortable sitting with your emotions, you can venture deeper without feeling flooded. That’s where crying can shift from being just a release to being a step toward real, lasting change. 

What you do after therapy matters. When a session stirs up big emotions, your body and mind may need extra care to find their footing again. 

For some people, this means grounding: using slow, deep breaths or a short meditation to reconnect with the present moment. Others find movement more helpful, whether it’s a gentle walk, a yoga flow, or a more vigorous workout to release tension. 

The most important thing is to find what works for you. If you’re not sure, talk with your therapist about experimenting with different approaches until you find the ones that help you feel both grounded and cared for. 

When a session brings up a lot, it’s natural to feel nervous about revisiting the same topic the following week. That’s why Grazel often builds in emotional regulation exercises before clients leave so they walk out feeling more steady than when the intense emotions peaked. 

If there’s time at the end of a session, this might look like a grounding practice, a breathing exercise, or simply slowing the pace of conversation to help you reconnect with the present moment. By doing this, you’re less likely to carry that overwhelmed feeling all the way into your next appointment. 

Crying is often healthy, but in certain situations, it can unintentionally stall progress, especially in relationships. If one partner becomes so overwhelmed with emotion that the conversation stops completely, the underlying issue might never get addressed. This is the type of thing that marks unhealthy relationships in couples therapy.

For neurodivergent partners, the picture can look different. Emotional intensity may be stronger, and it can take longer to regulate before returning to the conversation. One or both parties can end up feeling attacked. That’s not ‘wrong’, it just means the couple may need more time and intentional strategies to navigate emotional moments without losing sight of the issue at hand. 

Leaving therapy in tears doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong. In many cases, it’s a sign that your inner work is unfolding, that you’ve touched something real, and your body is responding in the way it knows how.

Your tears might be a release, a step toward deeper healing, or both. They can be a reminder that you’re showing up for yourself in a powerful way – facing what’s been stored inside, perhaps for years. 

If you can, meet those moments with gentleness. Give yourself time, space, and care afterward. Trust that even when it feels messy, you’re moving toward greater understanding and wholeness.