Lying in Therapy: When to Hold Space & When to Push

There’s a saying that “everyone lies.” Some believe it’s an idea; others say it’s a fact. Either way, it brings up deeper questions:

What happens if I lie to my therapist?

What do I do if my client lies to me?

I’ve often been able to tell when a client is lying—or at least holding something back. Not always, but often. And yet, my response isn’t to call it out or confront them. Instead, I let it be. I sit with curiosity, leaving space for them to share when they’re ready.

When I volunteered at Boston Area Rape Crisis Center (BARCC), we explored this in medical advocacy. What if a survivor came into the ER and wasn’t telling the full truth about their assault? The takeaway was clear: it’s not about whether they’re lying—it’s about why they’re there. They showed up for a reason, even if they weren’t ready to name it. If we denied them care or made them feel distrusted, we’d fracture any chance of building safety with them.

That lesson stuck with me. As a therapist, my role isn’t to force “the truth” out of my clients—it’s to create a space where they feel safe enough to bring their full selves, in their own time.

As a client, I get why you might lie or not tell the whole truth. You don’t need to feel guilt about it. But if you are feeling guilty, be curious about that. A colleague once told me, “Behavior tells us something—what is it telling us?” So instead of judging yourself, ask:

What is this behavior trying to communicate?

What does it protect?

What am I afraid will happen if I tell the truth?

I wasn’t always allowed that kind of grace growing up. In an ultra-conservative environment, I was taught that all lying, under any circumstances, was wrong. But as a clinician, I don’t align with that rigid view. I’ve come to see lying differently.

Some people lie to manipulate or harm—that, to me, is lying in its most destructive form. But others "lie" because they aren't ready to share, need emotional protection, or don’t yet feel safe. That’s not deception—it’s survival.

I once pushed a client, challenging their story when I didn’t believe them. The look on their face said everything. They felt betrayed. Why couldn’t I just let them hold onto that narrative until they were ready to offer more? That client stopped seeing me shortly after. And honestly, I don’t blame them.

That moment reminded me: my work is about trust, not catching lies.

So now, I hold space. I tell clients early on, “This works best when you’re honest with me. I can support you more fully when I know the whole picture.” But if they’re not ready, I don’t force it. I ask different questions. I let the silence work. I wait.

And that’s my approach. If calling out dishonesty is part of your authentic practice as a clinician, then do that. But for me, therapy is about meeting people where they are, not where I think they should be.

What are your thoughts on lying in therapy? Whether as a client or a clinician, how do you approach it?

Post Written by Stephanie Pelland