Imagine scrolling Instagram and seeing a therapist’s reel titled: “3 Ways to Calm Your Nervous System.”
It’s calming, relatable, even life-changing—for you. But for the person behind the post, it may also be exhausting, ethically murky, and emotionally risky.
A new qualitative study dives into the world of psychologists who moonlight as mental health influencers, revealing the pressures and paradoxes of being a therapist in the algorithm’s spotlight.
Key Points
- Psychologists on Instagram navigate tricky ethical terrain – offering education, not therapy—while followers sometimes expect more.
- Many share personal experiences to foster connection, but this can blur professional boundaries and strain their mental health.
- Constant content creation, performance pressure, and fear of judgment from peers contribute to burnout and anxiety.
- Despite the stress, psychologists find purpose, community, and creative expression through their social media presence.
- Better ethical guidance is urgently needed for professionals using social media in an influencer capacity.
Not Your Therapist, But Still Caring
The study, based on in-depth interviews with 12 UK-based psychologists with public Instagram profiles, used reflexive thematic analysis to explore their lived experiences.
Participants shared how their professional presence online often led to blurred boundaries and unexpected emotional labour.
One therapist described the tension plainly: “I’m a psychologist, but I’m not your psychologist.”
Many felt a strong desire to help, even when followers reached out in crisis – yet they couldn’t ethically or practically intervene.
This mismatch between what followers want and what psychologists can offer created moral discomfort and a sense of helplessness.
Some used disclaimers, highlight reels, or pinned posts to clarify that their content is not a substitute for therapy.
But others struggled when faced with urgent messages, worrying that being “just a voice online” wasn’t enough.
Performing for the Algorithm, Not the Client
Instagram rewards visibility, consistency, and video-first content. That means more reels, more emotional openness, and more performative energy.
But psychologists aren’t performers.
Many participants described feeling forced to become “content creators”—learning marketing tactics, video editing, and hashtag strategies on top of their clinical workload.
One psychologist said it bluntly: “A lot of it is pressure to perform, and I’m not a performer.”
The demand to post frequently clashed with their clinical values and mental bandwidth, leading to burnout.
Some described social media as “a second job,” one that left them emotionally depleted.
The risk?
Not just exhaustion – but compromised therapeutic presence offline.
Caught Between Community and Criticism
Despite the challenges, these psychologists found connection in unexpected places.
Instagram offered a rare peer support network, especially for those working solo or in private practice.
They built informal communities, exchanged advice, and even found joy in creating content.
But this came with vulnerability. Posting publicly opened them up to harsh criticism, both from internet strangers and professional peers.
Some feared being reported to regulatory bodies. Others faced disapproval from employers for posting “political” content or disclosing too much.
Several described being caught between needing to be real, relatable, and human—but also infallibly professional.
Sharing Authentically, But Safely
Self-disclosure was another ethical tightrope. Some felt it increased relatability and helped normalize emotional struggles.
Others worried it confused the therapist-client dynamic.
One participant reflected: “Would that be what I would want to see from my therapist?”
Many were cautious.
They avoided sharing their children’s names, specific locations, or personal crises.
Some even warned clients ahead of time if they were about to post something especially light-hearted or emotionally raw – recognizing that Instagram can shift how a client sees their therapist.
Instagram as Advocacy, Access, and a Business
Why stay on the platform at all?
The answer is layered. For some, it’s a form of activism—using their training to dismantle stigma and offer accessible mental health knowledge. For others, it’s a gateway to private clients or a way to sell digital resources.
Many felt conflicted about monetizing their presence.
The marketing tactics often felt at odds with therapeutic ethics. “I’m not a marketer, I’m a therapist,” said one participant.
Yet in a time of long NHS waiting lists, some saw Instagram as a bridge – offering psychoeducation that could prepare people for therapy or provide support in the interim.
Why It Matters
This study reveals the human side of therapist-influencers – often invisible behind curated squares and carousel posts.
While their content may offer relief, validation, or insight, it comes at a cost: emotional labour, blurred boundaries, and ethical complexity.
For the public, this research is a reminder: following a psychologist on Instagram isn’t the same as receiving therapy.
Posts can be helpful, but they’re not tailored, and they come from someone balancing connection with caution.
For professionals, the findings underscore the urgent need for clearer guidance, better training, and recognition that digital psychoeducation is now part of modern psychological practice.
When psychologists step into the influencer space, they don’t just bring their credentials—they bring their humanity. And that’s exactly what makes the work both powerful and precarious.
References
White, E., & Hanley, T. (2025). “What I share is not the same as therapy”: Psychologist experiences of Instagram use as a mental health influencer. Psychology and Psychotherapy: Theory, Research and Practice, 98(3), 624–642. https://doi.org/10.1111/papt.12585
