When I entered graduate school in the Clinical Mental Health Counseling program, I had only a vague idea of the depth and complexity of counseling theories. I believed that helping others required compassion and good listening skills, but I soon realized that an effective counselor must also ground their work in theory. Learning theories felt like learning a new language that could help explain human behavior, offer structure to sessions, and guide interventions with purpose and clarity.  In my Counseling Theories course, I was introduced to the major theoretical approaches that have shaped the field: Psychodynamic, Person-Centered, Cognitive Behavioral, Gestalt, Reality Therapy, Solution-Focused Brief Therapy, and more. At first, I approached them like separate compartments, trying to figure out which “fit” best. I resonated with Carl Rogers’ emphasis on empathy and unconditional positive regard. Still, I was also drawn to the concrete tools offered by Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), especially when working with clients experiencing anxiety or substance use issues.

          Early on, I struggled with theoretical integration. I felt pressure to choose a single orientation, but the more I engaged with diverse client needs, the more I realized that flexibility was key. My professors encouraged us to develop a personal theoretical orientation—not by picking a theory out of a textbook, but by reflecting on who we are, how we see people, and what we believe promotes change. Through that process, I began to adopt a more integrative approach, one that is rooted in Person-Centered values but also draws from CBT and Motivational Interviewing (MI) techniques.

        Internship deepened my understanding of how theory informs practice. Working primarily with adolescents in a substance use treatment setting, I encountered clients who were often ambivalent about change. This made MI an essential framework, helping me collaboratively engage clients while respecting their autonomy. I also relied heavily on CBT to help clients examine the relationship between their thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, especially when addressing issues like relapse, peer pressure, and self-esteem.  I also began to view theory as a map rather than a set of rigid directions. Sometimes the client needed the structure and problem-solving of CBT; other times, they needed to feel heard, validated, and accepted, which came directly from my Rogerian roots. And in many moments, especially with resistant or traumatized youth, it was the spirit of MI expressing empathy, rolling with resistance, and evoking change talk—that moved the needle forward.

       Reflecting on this journey, I feel grateful for the foundation I received in theory and for the opportunity to bring it to life in the counseling room. Theory gave me structure; experience gave me insight. Together, they have formed the heart of my professional identity as a counselor.