Most people arrive at their first counselling session having quietly rehearsed a worst case in their head. That they will be asked to relive the worst day of their life. That they will cry in front of a stranger. That someone will analyse them, or tell them they are grieving incorrectly.
None of that is what happens, so it seems worth describing what actually does.
Before anything else, there is a short conversation
Nobody is expected to book a course of counselling off the back of a website. The first contact is a free twenty-minute consultation by phone or video call.
This is not a session, and it is not an assessment. It is a chance for you to hear my voice, get a sense of whether you could imagine talking to me, and ask anything practical. I will ask a little about what has brought you here, but only as much as you want to say.
Fit matters more in therapy than almost anything else, which is why I would much rather you had this conversation and decided against it than felt committed by having made contact.
The first full session
Sessions last fifty minutes. The first one is mostly about you getting your bearings.
We start with the practical ground rules, mainly confidentiality and its limits, so that you know exactly where you stand before you say anything you might worry about afterwards. I would rather cover this plainly at the start than have it come as a surprise later.
After that, I will usually ask something open, along the lines of what has brought you here, or where you would like to start. And then I will mostly listen.
You do not need to have prepared anything. You do not need your thoughts in order, a clear account of events, or an explanation of why you feel the way you do. People frequently apologise for not making sense. Making sense is not the entry requirement.
Do I have to talk about the death?
Not before you are ready, and not on any particular timetable.
This is probably the single most common fear, and it comes from a reasonable assumption that bereavement counselling must involve going straight to the hardest thing. It does not. You set the pace, and I will follow it.
Some people want to tell the whole story in the first hour, because they have never been allowed to tell it properly. Others circle it for weeks, talking about work, family or sleep, and arrive at it when they are ready. Both are completely fine, and neither is doing grief wrong.
If we do approach something difficult, we do it deliberately, and we leave enough time at the end of the session for you to feel steady before you go back out into your day.
Will I cry?
You might. Many people do, often at a moment that surprises them.
You will not be rushed past it, handed a tissue as a hint to stop, or treated as though something awkward has happened. The room is set up for it. Equally, if you do not cry, that is not a sign of avoidance or of grieving badly. Some people talk about enormous loss quite steadily, and that is simply how they are built.
The practical details
Where sessions take place
In person, at a quiet practice room in Solihull, or online by secure video call. Online suits people who would rather not travel after work, who have childcare to work around, or who find it easier to talk from somewhere familiar. It is not a lesser option, and for some people it is genuinely the better one.
How often, and how many
Usually weekly, at the same time each week, because the regularity itself tends to help. As for how many, I am wary of anyone who gives you a confident number before meeting you. Some people find a handful of sessions is enough. Others work over a longer period. We review it together as we go, and you can stop whenever you choose.
What it costs
The consultation is free. In-person sessions are £60 and online sessions are £50, both fifty minutes. You can see the full details of services and fees if it helps to have the figures in front of you. If cost is the thing standing in your way, say so, because I hold a small number of reduced-fee places.
What I write down, and who sees it
I keep brief factual notes, stored securely and separately from your contact details, in line with UK data protection law. They are working notes rather than a transcript, and you are entitled to ask to see what I hold about you at any point.
Like every registered counsellor, I discuss my work in regular clinical supervision. This is a professional requirement that exists to keep practice safe and ethical. Your full name is not used, and the focus is on my work rather than your identity.
Nothing you say is shared with your GP, your family or your employer. The only exceptions are the narrow legal and safeguarding ones, which we will have gone through together in the first session.
How you will know whether it is helping
Progress in grief work is rarely a clean upward line, and anyone promising that is overselling.
What people tend to notice first is small and practical. Sleeping a little better. Getting through an anniversary without dreading it for a fortnight beforehand. Being able to say the person's name out loud without bracing. Finding that a good day no longer produces guilt.
We will keep checking in on whether the work is useful to you. If it is not, I would far rather hear that and either change what we are doing or help you find something that fits better.
It is allowed to feel quite ordinary
People sometimes leave a first session slightly puzzled, because nothing dramatic happened. They talked, someone listened properly, and the hour went.
That is rather the point. The value builds in the repetition, in having one reliable place each week where you do not have to manage anyone else's feelings about your loss, or reassure anyone that you are coping.
If you are weighing up whether this is something you need at all, you may find it useful to read when grief needs more than time.
Jas Singh is a qualified bereavement counsellor and psychotherapist based in Solihull, West Midlands, and an accredited member of the National Counselling & Psychotherapy Society. More about how he works.