What MFT Training Is Teaching Me About Love and Listening

One of the first things you learn in marriage and family therapy training is that listening is an active process — not a passive one. It sounds simple, but it’s one of the hardest skills to master.

As a student therapist, I’ve realized that we live in a world where most people hear to respond, not to understand. And if I’m being honest, I used to be one of them. I thought being a good communicator meant knowing what to say next, or being ready with advice. But therapy has taught me that true connection happens when we slow down enough to really hear someone — not to fix them, not to defend ourselves, but simply to understand their world.


The Art of Holding Space

In our classes and practicum sessions, we talk a lot about “holding space.” It’s a phrase that sounds poetic but feels very real once you experience it. Holding space means sitting with someone — their joy, their grief, their confusion — without trying to change it.

At first, this felt uncomfortable. I wanted to do something. But therapy reminds you that sometimes, the most healing thing you can offer is your presence.

Learning to hold space for others has made me realize how often I fail to hold space for myself. I rush through my own emotions, analyzing them like problems to be solved instead of experiences to be felt. But if I can give empathy to a client, I can extend it inward too. That’s been one of the biggest lessons — that love and compassion have to start from within.


How Therapy Changed the Way I See Love

In MFT training, we study systems — how families, couples, and individuals interact within larger patterns. What’s fascinating is how often we repeat those patterns without realizing it. We learn love through observation: how our parents argued, how affection was given or withheld, how apologies were modeled.

Becoming aware of those patterns doesn’t make love easier, but it makes it clearer.

I’ve learned that love isn’t about agreement — it’s about curiosity.
It’s asking, “Help me understand how you feel,” instead of, “Here’s why you shouldn’t feel that way.”
It’s noticing when defensiveness shows up and choosing to breathe instead of react.

I used to think love was proven through effort — doing more, giving more, showing up more. But therapy has taught me that love also lives in the pause. In listening. In making room for the other person’s truth, even when it challenges your own.


Listening Beyond Words

As a Pilates instructor, I’m used to reading body language — noticing tension, posture, energy. Now, as a therapist-in-training, I notice emotional posture too: the tone of a voice, the hesitation before a word, the silence that says everything.

It’s fascinating how our bodies and emotions mirror each other. The shoulders that slump when we’re defeated. The shallow breath of anxiety. The jaw clenched in unspoken frustration.

Listening, I’ve learned, isn’t just with the ears — it’s with the eyes, the heart, and the nervous system. The body often tells the story the words are afraid to share.

That’s why, in both therapy and movement, I practice slowing down. The more I listen to others (and to myself), the more I notice how connection deepens in stillness. Love becomes less about performing and more about being present.


What I’m Learning About Myself

Grad school hasn’t just taught me how to help others — it’s made me confront the parts of myself that still crave control, validation, or understanding.

There’s a humility in realizing you’ll never “arrive” as a perfect listener, friend, or partner. But there’s also peace in that. Growth isn’t linear; it’s a continuous practice of awareness and compassion.

Some days, I still talk too much. Other days, I hold space beautifully. Both are part of the process.


Therapy school has changed how I define love: it’s no longer something I give to others; it’s something I create with them. It’s not found in perfection but in presence — in showing up, being curious, and choosing empathy over ego.

And every time I practice this kind of love — whether with a client, a friend, or myself — I feel more grounded in who I’m becoming.


🪞 Reflection Prompt:
What’s one way you can be a better listener — to yourself or to someone you love?


If this post resonated with you, share it or leave a comment below. I’d love to know what love and listening have taught you. You can also follow my reflections on Instagram @ayanab_ for more on therapy, mindfulness, and movement.

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