I began my career as a high school teacher—a role I loved, but one that left me feeling trapped by long hours, emotional demands, and constant pressure. After eight years, I experienced burnout, largely because I was expected to be the “expert” with all the answers. I realised I needed a change, not just in my job, but in my approach to work and life.

Seeking a new direction, I undertook a Master of Counselling at the University of Waikato. There, I learned how narrative therapy helps people move away from problem-saturated identities—where life feels defined by struggle and failure—toward more hopeful narratives of agency and freedom. Narrative therapy supports clients in crafting identities grounded in choice, possibility, and self-authorship.

Developed in the 1980s by David Epston (New Zealand) and Michael White (Australia), narrative therapy was created as an alternative to traditional, medicalised psychotherapy, which often focuses on diagnosing and “fixing” problems. Epston and White aimed to make power dynamics in the counselling room transparent, challenging the therapist-as-authority model. They recognised that language transmits power and dominant discourses, so therapists must be mindful of their words to avoid reinforcing unhelpful narratives. Narrative therapy emphasises a respectful, collaborative process where clients are seen as experts in their own lives, defined by strengths rather than problems. It explores the stories people tell themselves and the meanings shaped by culture, society, and relationships.

Narrative therapists pay close attention to dominant cultural narratives—such as those about success or worthiness—which can unconsciously shape self-perception and limit choices. These discourses often set unrealistic expectations, leaving people feeling inadequate when they struggle to meet them. This sense of failure reinforces the problem story, making it harder to see alternatives. By making these narratives visible, people can question them and choose stories that better reflect their values and hopes.

Why Narrative Therapy Matters Today

In today’s complex world, people are facing challenges like anxiety, stress, burnout, identity issues, and trauma. Narrative therapy helps unpack these struggles without imposing diagnoses or labels. Instead, it provides a flexible framework for exploring how socio-political pressures, cultural expectations, and personal experiences shape our stories. By externalising problems and focusing on strengths, narrative therapy invites people to act with agency, supporting them to re-author their lives in ways that foster resilience and hope.

A Career Reinvented

As a registered Member of the New Zealand Association of Counsellors (NZAC), I work ethically in accordance with the NZAC Code of Ethics, providing clients with a safe and supportive environment predicated on unconditional positive regard.

The Transformational Client Experience

Narrative therapy frees me to work compassionately and collaboratively, shifting from the idea of “fixing” problems to guiding clients as they reshape their stories. In this process, the client is the senior author of their identity, and I am the junior author, supporting their journey. Central to this work is recognising and enhancing the client’s own knowledge, skills, and insights.

I work with clients to examine inherited narratives from family, culture, and society, deciding which truly reflect their values. By identifying moments when problems didn’t dominate, they begin to rewrite their life stories in more authentic, action-focused ways. Many feel lighter, freer, and more confident, with increased ability to navigate challenges. Clients also often report feeling more in control and connected, no longer defined by their problems. My role as a junior author supports their expertise without overriding it.

This approach is especially compassionate for clients who have experienced trauma. By fostering safety, curiosity, and collaboration, clients can reclaim their stories without re-traumatization. The process honours both pain and resilience, helping to reweave identity with care.

Following Michael White’s “taking it back” practice, I share with clients how their re-storying of identity has influenced and inspired me. This balances power in the therapeutic relationship and reminds us both that therapy is a shared human experience, not a medical procedure.

What a Session Looks Like

While no two sessions are the same, most follow a respectful, curious, playful, and reflective rhythm, even when addressing serious issues. We start by exploring the client’s current problem-saturated story, as a foundation for separating the person from the problem. I might ask, “If the anxiety were a character in your life, what would it look like?” or “When did this problem show up, and what has that been like for you?” Together, we evaluate these effects, helping clients see problems as external, not defining traits.

For example, I would help a client see that they don’t “become depressed”—they struggle with depression. This subtle shift redirects focus from self-blame to action, enabling the client to shape their own experience.

As we delve into the problem story, I’m searching for exceptions—moments when the problem did not dictate the client’s actions. This involves thorough examination, often using metaphors, drawing, or role-playing to uncover fresh perspectives. Throughout, I focus on illuminating the client’s expertise—highlighting ways they have already overcome challenges or acted in alignment with their values. Rather than offering advice, I help uncover and amplify their unique strengths.

In my work, I also integrate additional skills such as mindfulness, compassionate self-witnessing, and understanding nervous system responses through polyvagal theory. Mindfulness techniques encourages clients to observe their thoughts and emotions with curiosity and compassion. Integrating polyvagal theory helps clients understand their nervous system responses—recognising states of safety, activation, or shutdown, and how these affect the choices they make. However, it’s important to note that these practices are not necessarily common to all narrative therapists, and each practitioner may bring their own unique blend of approaches to their work.

Ultimately, the goal is to strengthen the client’s alternative story, focusing on patterns, skills, and choices that reinforce agency. I often describe this as creating oneself as a work of art—crafting a preferred identity that reflects who they want to become. Even when facing serious challenges, this process is engaging and energising, often leading to profound transformation.

How Re-authoring Stories Changes the Brain

Narrative therapy is transformational psychologically and neurologically. Neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to rewire itself—explains how the stories we tell can reshape identity. When clients strengthen alternative narratives and notice moments of strength, they build new neural pathways. Old patterns—like “I am defined by this problem”—lose dominance, while new ways of seeing themselves—“I am capable, resilient, and agentic”—are reinforced. Clients don’t just think differently—they experience themselves differently, with shifts in identity, choices, and capacity for action.

Jeffrey Zimmerman’s (2018) work integrates modern brain science, showing how our brains and emotions shape the stories we tell. By emphasising the right brain’s role in processing emotion and relationships, his work encourages narrative therapists to connect more deeply with clients’ feelings, bodies, and memories. Research in this area illuminates how narrative therapy can measurably alter brain function, supporting clients in moving toward agency, insight, and relief. This “neuro-narrative” approach bridges mind and body, helping clients understand how emotional experiences influence life stories—and how reshaping those stories promotes healing and connection.

Some practitioners (e.g. Duvall & Maclennan, 2017) are drawing on neuroscience to explain the effect on the brain of naming problems through externalising conversations. Research shows that naming a problem releases soothing neurotransmitters that calm the limbic amygdala, modulating the fight, flight, or freeze response (Creswell et al., 2007; Siegel, 2014). The resulting relief can open space for pivotal experiences (Beaudoin, 2015; Kounios & Beeman, 2009; Subramaniam et al., 2008).

Other narrative practitioners are researching changes in brain function following narrative therapy sessions. For example, Karen Young and colleagues (2017) describe research into how conversations—including scaffolding—have measurable neurophysiological effects, with examples relating to problems such as self-criticism and refugee isolation.

A New Relationship with Work—and Life

Narrative therapy has transformed how I relate to my work and life. Power is now shared and transparent, problems are externalised, blame is reduced, and collaboration is prioritised. Central to this transformation is the therapeutic relationship—an alliance built on trust, respect, and genuine collaboration. Through this relationship, clients feel safe to explore new perspectives and possibilities, making real change possible. After eight years of teaching, I knew I never wanted to return to a model where anyone felt powerless. Narrative therapy has given me a career that supports meaningful transformation, reminding me daily that we are all able to be active authors of our lives—capable of evolving identity and creating life stories filled with choice and possibility.

Finding a Narrative Therapist

If this approach resonates, consider working with a qualified narrative therapist. In New Zealand and internationally, check professional bodies such as:

•NZAC (New Zealand Association of Counsellors)

•ACCA (Australian Community Counselling Association)

•PACFA (Psychotherapy & Counselling Federation of Australia)

Look for therapists who have completed comprehensive training, such as programs at:

•University of Waikato (NZ)

•Dulwich Centre (Australia)

•David Epston’s trainings (NZ)

•Vancouver School of Narrative Therapy (Canada)

•The Narrative Therapy Institute (US)

These programs provide in-depth education in narrative approaches, ensuring that narrative therapy is the foundation of the therapist’s practice—not simply an add-on to an existing degree.