A few weeks ago, someone told me something that made me pause: “Google reviews are everything in private practice.”

 _{Honestly, I hadn’t paid much attention to them before. But curiosity got the best of me, so I went online to check.}

_{On Google, my reviews were mostly around 4 out of 5 stars — not bad! That made me smile. But then I clicked over to WebMD and… ouch. My rating there was 2.5. As a human, I felt that sting immediately.}

_{I started reading through the reviews. One person had written a heartfelt five-star note about how much I had helped them. I could even guess who it was from their words. That felt wonderful and affirming.}

 _{But then came the gut punch: another review calling me “horrible,” “terrible,” and “just after money.”}

_{And my heart sank. Because I knew that wasn’t true.}

_{When a Review Crosses the Line:}

 _{I don’t take money directly from my patients — I only accept insurance. Most of my clients pay a small copay, and I’m deeply aware of what that means because I’ve been there.}

_{Years ago, I couldn’t afford therapy myself. If the fee was over $200, I’d rather talk to a friend or my primary care doctor. That’s one reason I’ve structured my practice the way I have — to make care as accessible as possible.}

_{So being called “money-hungry” felt deeply unfair.}

_{And I know exactly why some people might write something like that. I don’t prescribe controlled substances like stimulants or sedatives casually. I don’t write disability letters unless someone truly meets the criteria. And yes, I’ve had people leave unhappy because I said “no.”}

_{But those boundaries are part of who I am as a clinician. They protect my patients — and they protect me.}

_{Trying to Make It Go Away}

_{That review bothered me so much that I asked my virtual assistant to see if it could be removed. They reached out to the website multiple times, but no luck. It’s still there. And it’s been there for about three years now.}

_{Out of curiosity (and maybe frustration), I checked out the reviews of some of my physician friends. Many of them had hundreds — even thousands — of glowing five-star reviews. And I’ll admit it: I felt a little inadequate.}

_{But then I remembered something: I know many of these people personally. And behind the perfect online profiles, some of them are deeply unhappy — constantly stressed, exhausted, and stuck in jobs they no longer enjoy, held there mostly by financial obligations and lifestyle expectations.}

_{It made me wonder: if all that external validation doesn’t make them happy… what will?}

_{Choosing a Simpler, More Authentic Life:}

_{That question led me back to my own story.}

_{I don’t have hundreds of reviews. I have maybe 5 or 10. But I’m content. I’ve worked hard to build a healthy work-life balance. I rent a small home. Branded items, or throwing big parties, never excited me. The pandemic was a turning point — it forced me to face truths I had been avoiding. Through therapy, I realized my marriage and family dynamics were deeply unhealthy.}

 _{So, I walked away.} 

_{I chose simplicity. I live within my means. And I am content. Deeply, quietly content.}

_{Why I’m Grateful for That One Negative Review}

_{Here’s the surprising part: I’ve decided to keep that awful review.} 

_{It’s not true, but it serves a purpose. It weeds out people who are looking for something I don’t offer. It tells them right up front that I won’t enable harmful behaviors, overprescribe controlled substances, or write disability letters that aren’t justified.}

_{It’s also been strangely healing for me. I grew up with a mom who had a hearing disability, and because of that, I often felt unseen and unheard. I learned to seek validation by trying to please people. Even now, as an adult and a clinician, that tendency sometimes sneaks back in.}

_{Now, when I catch myself craving approval or when my ego starts whispering, “Look at you, you’re doing great!” — I go back and read that review. It grounds me. It reminds me that my worth is not defined by online stars or strangers’ opinions.}

_{A Final Thought (for Me and for millions of other clinicians)}

_{If you’re a clinician reading this, here’s what I hope you remember: reviews are just one tiny part of the story. A five-star rating looks impressive, but it can also come with crushing pressure — the pressure to perform, to be perfect, to please everyone.}

_{For me, I’d rather have a small, close-knit practice with a small clientele.  I know deeply — people who are willing to grow, learn, and challenge themselves — than thousands of five-star reviews that don’t reflect reality.}

_{And I’ll keep that one bad review. Because, in its own strange way, it’s become part of my healing. It’s teaching me to let go of people-pleasing, to trust who I am, and to focus on what really matters.} 

_{And that, to me, is worth way more than five stars!}

Edited/Formatted/Corrected by ChatGPT and image created on “Canva”