Should Your Therapist Look Like You?

After months of conversation, a family member finally agreed to try therapy for their anxiety, on one condition: their therapist had to be Lebanese. “Nobody else could ever understand my life and the decisions I’ve made,” they told me. I dutifully sorted through pages of options until I found what felt like the golden egg: a Lebanese therapist in the exact area we were searching.

Several weeks later, I was on the phone with my loved one when they mentioned that, despite having felt initial rapport, they had stopped seeing their therapist. “It felt too much like talking to a friend,” they said. “We weren’t getting anywhere.”

Searching for a therapist who shares part of your identity, referred to here as “identity matching,” isn’t unique to my loved one. Research consistently shows that people from minority groups often prefer a therapist of the same racial or ethnic background. And there’s some evidence that identity matching helps clients feel a stronger bond with their therapist.

But when it comes to whether clients actually get better, the picture is much less clear. Across 53 studies, racial and ethnic identity matching showed no meaningful benefit for symptom reduction, including anxiety and depression.

Why Might That Be?

A shared identity offers immediate familiarity. While it’s possible to build that familiarity without a shared identity, it can take more time. A shared identity can also communicate safety; consider a client who is a member of the queer community, who knows they are safe and affirmed right off the bat with a queer therapist.

On its face, identity matching has benefits. At the same time, it has limitations.

1. You can’t match on everything. Many characteristics shape how we move through the world, how others treat us, and how our symptoms show up: age, race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, immigration experience, languages spoken, disability, marital status, parenthood, and many more. No one can match on all of them, or even on several of the ones that matter most to you.
2. Similarity can be an illusion. Imagine talking with a therapist you know is also a child of immigrants. When you describe an experience, you assume they get it. But that assumed understanding can crowd out an important conversation: checking that you’re on the same page about how the experience affected you.
3. It can limit corrective experiences. In my clinical experience, I’ve found that a deliberate mismatch can be therapeutic. For a year, I worked as a therapist with teen boys who were court-ordered to treatment for problematic sexual behavior. Understandably, some bristled at the idea of discussing vulnerable topics with a woman. But I came to believe that female therapists could offer a uniquely healing relationship to boys and men who’ve had fraught experiences with women.

What Matters Most?

Sharing an identity with your therapist is not what helps you get better. What’s more important is your therapist’s competence, which includes their ability to talk openly about identity. How might you assess this in an initial encounter with a new therapist? Here are some questions you can ask:

• What does cultural humility in therapy mean to you, and how do you practice it?
• Are you open to discussing my [X] identity?
• I’m looking for a therapist with whom I can discuss [X]. Does that feel like a good fit for your expertise?
• If something about my background comes up that you’re unfamiliar with, how would you handle that?
• Have you worked with clients who share my [X] background or experiences? What did you learn from that work?
• What does affirming care look like in your practice?
• Some of my stress comes from [X, e.g., family expectations, discrimination, immigration, being the first in my family to do something]. How comfortable are you working with these concerns?

How a therapist answers matters as much as what they say. A therapist who responds with curiosity, admits what they don’t know, and doesn’t get defensive is showing the very skills that reflect a culturally humble stance – one that is aware of the therapist’s own identity, strengths, and limitations and maintains a client-oriented perspective involving openness and curiosity. A polished script that avoids the question, or a response that negates the importance of your identity, can be a yellow flag.

Keep in mind that identity matching in therapy may matter more for some identities than others. Seeking a therapist with your shared background can signal affirmation and a lack of hostility for clients of transgender, undocumented, and many other identities. Being a member of a certain community isn’t the only way to be an ally, but the cost of trying someone who turns out not to be affirming can feel legitimately risky and unsafe.

As a Lebanese therapist myself, I know the power of validating another person with my own identity: through shared language, customs, and even physical features like curly hair. I don’t want to discourage anyone from seeking that. As with most things in therapy, there’s no single right answer.

The point of therapy is to grow, and having different identities in the room can help us do that. I’d encourage you to stay open, both to who your therapist is and to what they might help you discover about yourself.

Isabella Kahhale After months of conversation, a family member finally agreed to try therapy for their anxiety, on one condition: their therapist had to be Lebanese.