Your Therapist Is Making Money Off Your Trauma Not Resolving. Let’s Talk About That.

Therapy is a business.

That sentence makes people uncomfortable. But it’s true.

And like any business, the revenue model is based on repeat customers. Weekly sessions. Monthly sessions. Years of sessions. The longer you stay, the more money flows.

Most therapists are ethical. Most are genuinely trying to help. Most have clear treatment goals and work toward your independence, not your dependence.

But enough don’t that we need to talk about it.

Because I’m currently in a lawsuit against my former therapist. Active litigation. And one of the things I’ve learned—one of the patterns I couldn’t see while I was in it—is how the financial incentive to keep you coming back can corrupt the therapeutic relationship.

Not always. Not even usually.

But often enough that you need to know what to look for.

The Financial Incentive Nobody Talks About

Here’s the uncomfortable math:

A therapist seeing you weekly at $150 per session makes $7,800 from you per year.

If you “graduate” from therapy after six months, they made $3,900.

If you stay for three years, they made $23,400.

Now, most therapists aren’t consciously thinking “how do I keep this person paying?” They got into this work to help people. They genuinely care.

But the business model rewards long-term clients. And when your income depends on people not getting better too fast, it creates a structural problem that even well-intentioned therapists have to actively fight against.

Some fight it. They set clear treatment goals. They measure progress. They tell you when you’re done. They celebrate your independence.

Others don’t.

And the ones who don’t? They’ve learned how to make you feel like you can’t function without them.

What Dependency Looks Like in a Therapeutic Relationship

I didn’t see it at first.

It started with “you’re making such good progress, let’s keep the momentum going.”

Then it was “this is a critical phase, we can’t interrupt the work now.”

Then it became “I’m concerned about what might happen if you reduce sessions.”

Every time I mentioned spacing out appointments, there was a reason why now wasn’t the right time. A new issue to explore. A pattern we hadn’t fully processed. A concern about my stability.

And here’s the thing—I trusted them. They were the expert. They had the credentials. They knew my history, my triggers, my vulnerabilities.

So when they said I needed more sessions, I believed them.

Even when my bank account was screaming that I couldn’t afford it.

Even when part of me felt like I was making progress but the goalposts kept moving.

Even when I started to notice that every problem we “resolved” somehow revealed a deeper problem that required more work.

The Pattern: Progress Without Graduation

Here’s what healthy therapy looks like:

You come in with a problem. Depression. Anxiety. Trauma. Whatever.

You work on it. You learn coping skills. You process the underlying issues. You practice new behaviors.

You get better. Measurably better.

And then—this is the key part—you graduate. Maybe you step down to biweekly sessions, then monthly check-ins, then you’re done. Or you take a break and come back if something new comes up.

The goal is independence. The goal is you not needing them anymore.

Here’s what unhealthy therapy looks like:

You come in with a problem. You work on it. You make progress.

But right when you’re about to graduate, a new issue appears. Something you hadn’t fully explored. Something that “might be underlying the original issue.”

Or, your progress is reframed as “surface-level healing” and now you need to do “the deeper work.”

Or, spacing out sessions becomes “avoidance” or “fear of intimacy” or some other clinical term that makes you feel like wanting independence is actually a symptom of your dysfunction.

The goal becomes perpetual treatment. The goal becomes you always needing them.

Why This Works on Smart People

You know who’s most vulnerable to this?

High-functioning people with trauma histories and a tendency toward self-blame.

People who are used to working hard to fix themselves. People who trust authority figures. People who want to do therapy “right.”

People like me.

Because when your therapist—the person you’ve trusted with your most vulnerable moments—tells you that you’re not ready to reduce sessions, you don’t question it. You think “they know better than I do.”

When they frame your desire for independence as a psychological issue rather than a healthy goal, you internalize it. You think “maybe I am avoiding something.”

When they use clinical language to pathologize normal human boundaries, you defer to their expertise. You think “they went to school for this, I didn’t.”

And that’s how it works.

They have the power. The credentials. The clinical framework that can turn anything you do into a symptom if they want it to be.

And you? You’re the patient. The one with the “issues.” The one who’s supposed to trust the process.

The Red Flags I Wish I’d Seen

Looking back—and I’m looking back with the clarity of legal discovery and documented evidence—here are the warning signs I missed:

1. No Clear Treatment Goals

Healthy therapy: “We’re working on reducing your anxiety symptoms. We’ll measure progress with these specific metrics. When you hit these benchmarks, we’ll discuss stepping down sessions.”

Unhealthy therapy: “Therapy is a journey. There’s always more to explore. Let’s just see where this goes.”

2. Resistance to Reducing Sessions

Healthy therapy: “You’re doing great. Let’s try biweekly and see how you do. You can always come back to weekly if you need to.”

Unhealthy therapy: “I’m concerned that spacing out sessions right now would be destabilizing. Let’s wait until you’re more solid.”

(Spoiler: You’re never “solid enough” to reduce sessions.)

3. New Issues Appearing Right Before Graduation

Healthy therapy: “We’ve addressed what you came in for. Is there anything else you want to work on, or are you ready to wrap up?”

Unhealthy therapy: “As we’ve been working on your anxiety, I’ve noticed some patterns that suggest [new diagnosis/issue]. We should really explore this before you reduce sessions.”

4. Pathologizing Normal Boundaries

Healthy therapy: “It’s natural to want more independence as you progress. That’s a sign of health.”

Unhealthy therapy: “Your desire to space out sessions might be avoidance. Let’s explore your fear of intimacy.”

5. Financial Pressure Reframed as Resistance

Healthy therapy: “I understand cost is a concern. Let’s talk about stepping down sessions or finding a lower-cost option.”

Unhealthy therapy: “Your focus on money might be a way of avoiding the deeper work. What are you really afraid of?”

6. Creating Dependency Through Crisis Management

Healthy therapy: “Here are skills you can use when you’re in crisis. Practice these between sessions.”

Unhealthy therapy: “If you’re having a hard time, we should add an extra session. You shouldn’t try to handle this alone.”

The Thing That Makes This Hard to See

Here’s why this pattern is so insidious:

All of those unhealthy examples? They can also be legitimate clinical observations.

Sometimes people do avoid deeper work. Sometimes financial concerns mask emotional resistance. Sometimes new issues do emerge as you peel back layers. Sometimes people do need more support, not less.

That’s what makes this so hard to identify.

A good therapist and a manipulative therapist can say the exact same things. The difference is intent. The difference is whether they’re working toward your independence or their income.

And you—sitting in the room, vulnerable, trusting—you can’t always tell which one you’ve got.

What I’m Not Saying

I’m not saying all therapists are bad.

I’m not saying therapy doesn’t work.

I’m not saying you should quit therapy or stop trusting your therapist.

I’m saying: therapy is a business, and the business model rewards long-term dependence, and some therapists—consciously or unconsciously—exploit that.

And you need to know what to look for so you can tell the difference.

What Good Therapy Actually Looks Like

Good therapy has:

• Clear treatment goals that you agree on upfront

• Measurable progress that you can see

• Regular check-ins about whether therapy is still serving you

• Support for your independence, not dependence

• Transparent conversations about money and scheduling

• An exit plan from the beginning, not just endless treatment

Good therapists:

• Welcome your questions about progress and goals

• Don’t pathologize your desire for independence

• Understand that cost is a real concern, not a psychological issue

• Celebrate when you’re doing well, not find new problems

• Work toward not being needed anymore

If your therapist does these things? You probably have a good one. Keep going.

If your therapist does the opposite? That’s not you being resistant. That’s a red flag.

Why I’m Writing This (And Why It Matters)

I’m in a lawsuit because someone with a license, credentials, and power used that position to cause harm.

The details are in discovery. The evidence is documented. The case is ongoing.

But here’s what I can say: the pattern I experienced—the dependency, the financial exploitation, the pathologizing of boundaries—it’s not unique to my situation.

I’ve heard from lots of people since I started writing about this. People who felt trapped in therapy. People who couldn’t afford sessions but were told reducing them would be dangerous. People who wanted to graduate but were made to feel like they were avoiding growth.

This isn’t rare. It’s just rarely discussed.

Because criticizing therapy feels like criticizing people who are trying to help. It feels ungrateful. It feels like you’re the problem for even questioning it.

But some therapists aren’t helping. They’re exploiting.

And the financial incentive—the structure of the business itself—makes that exploitation possible.

What to Do If This Sounds Familiar

If you’re reading this and thinking “holy shit, this is my therapy”:

1. Trust your gut.

If something feels off, it probably is. Your instinct that you’re being kept in therapy longer than necessary isn’t resistance—it’s information.

2. Ask direct questions.

“What are our treatment goals?” “How will we measure progress?” “What does graduation from therapy look like?” “When do you anticipate we’ll reduce session frequency?”

If your therapist can’t or won’t answer these clearly, that’s data.

3. Get a second opinion.

Find another therapist. Tell them what you’ve been working on. Ask them if they think weekly sessions are still necessary.

You’re allowed to do this. You’re allowed to question whether the treatment plan is serving you or serving your therapist’s income.

4. Document everything.

If you’re concerned something unethical is happening, start keeping records. Dates. What was said. What you were told about reducing sessions. What happened when you tried.

I wish I’d started documenting sooner. I didn’t think I’d need it. Now I have a legal case that depends on it.

5. Know you can leave.

You don’t need your therapist’s permission to reduce sessions or stop therapy. You don’t need to wait until they decide you’re “ready.”

If you feel better and want to step back, do it.

If they tell you that wanting independence is a symptom, find a new therapist.

The Bottom Line

Therapy saved me in some ways. It also harmed me in others.

Both things can be true.

Most therapists are ethical. But the structure of the business—the financial incentive to keep you coming back—creates an environment where exploitation can happen.

And when it does, it’s hard to see. Because the person exploiting you is the person you trusted to help you.

That’s why we need to talk about this.

Not to trash therapy. Not to discourage people from getting help.

But to give people the tools to recognize when help has become harm.

When progress has become dependence.

When therapy has become a business transaction disguised as healing.

You deserve a therapist who wants you to get better and leave, not stay forever.

And if your therapist can’t handle you asking questions about that?

That tells you everything you need to know.

—Cody Taymore

Kill The Silence

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I’m in active litigation against my former therapist. The case is ongoing. Everything in this article is based on documented evidence and broader patterns in the mental health industry, not speculation. Not all therapists exploit their clients. But enough do that you need to know what to look for.