Regina Gerlach

A conversation with Regina Gerlach

• What led you to choose psychotherapy or counselling as a profession?

  Growing up in East Germany, I was always drawn to teaching and helping others make sense of their world. After the fall of the Berlin Wall, I felt a deep shift—not just in society, but within myself. I became curious about how people adapt, grow, and find meaning through change and adversity. This led me to study clinical psychology.
  
  What drew me most to psychotherapy was the depth of human connection and the possibility of real transformation through presence, compassion, and understanding. I’ve always been moved by people’s stories and their capacity to heal, even in the face of great pain. Becoming a therapist felt like a natural way to honour that.

• Which philosophical approaches have influenced your professional development?

  My work has been shaped by contemplative and existential philosophies, particularly those that honour the complexity of being human. Buddhist psychology, with its emphasis on mindfulness, compassion, and the nature of suffering, has been a steady influence—both personally and professionally. The existential themes of meaning, freedom, and responsibility also resonate deeply in my clinical work.
  
  I’m also influenced by relational and constructivist perspectives, which view healing as a co-created, evolving process. I see therapy not as fixing but as remembering—a return to wholeness through awareness, connection, and choice. These approaches continue to guide how I meet each person with curiosity, humility, and respect.

• Which particular aspects of health or the human journey are you interested in?

  I'm particularly interested in how we navigate the tender edges of being human—grief, trauma, transitions, and the longing for connection and meaning. I’m drawn to the parts of the journey that are often hidden or carried in silence: the impact of early attachment wounds, the burden of self-criticism, and the quiet strength it takes to show up for ourselves day by day.
  
  I’m especially curious about how mindfulness, compassion, and nervous system awareness can support healing—not just as techniques, but as ways of being. I believe our symptoms often speak in the language of unmet needs or survival strategies, and I’m passionate about helping people listen inwardly with kindness, so they can live with more clarity, integrity, and ease.

• What methods do you use?

  I use a range of evidence-based and integrative methods tailored to each person’s needs. My core approaches include EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing), parts work (such as Internal Family Systems and Resource Therapy), and mindfulness-based interventions like MiCBT and Compassion-Focused Therapy.
  
  My work is trauma-informed and body-aware, often weaving in grounding practices, breathwork, and gentle nervous system regulation. Whether I’m working with individuals, couples, or groups, I aim to create a space where all parts of a person feel welcome—especially the ones that have been silenced, shamed, or stuck. At the heart of my method is a deep respect for each person’s inner wisdom, and a commitment to walking alongside them with compassion, curiosity, and care.

• When do you think the client will start to feel that progress is being made?

  Progress in therapy often begins in subtle but meaningful ways—when a client starts to feel more present, less alone with their struggles, or a little kinder toward themselves. It might show up as a shift in how they respond to stress, a clearer sense of boundaries, or simply being able to name what they feel without fear or judgement.
  
  While deep change takes time, many clients begin to notice progress when they feel truly seen and understood—when the therapeutic space becomes a place of safety and possibility. For some, it's the relief of naming something that’s long been carried in silence. For others, it’s the growing sense of choice where there once was reactivity or shutdown. Each step matters, and I honour the pace that feels right for each person.

• How has therapy made a difference in your life?

  Therapy has been a steady companion through some of the most profound transitions in my life—surviving cancer, navigating deep grief, and letting go of loved ones. Moving across countries and continents, I’ve experienced firsthand what it means to start over, to rebuild a sense of belonging, and to meet uncertainty with courage.
  
  Therapy helped me not just to cope, but to grow—to stay connected to myself in the midst of pain, to honour what was lost, and to open to what is possible. It taught me how to listen inwardly with compassion and to trust that healing doesn’t mean erasing the scars, but living more fully alongside them. These experiences continue to shape how I sit with others: with presence, humility, and a deep respect for the resilience it takes to be human.

• What do you like most about being a therapist?

  What I treasure most about being a therapist is the privilege of witnessing people's truth—the quiet courage it takes to show up, to be vulnerable, to face what feels unbearable and still choose growth. It’s a deeply human and humbling experience to walk alongside someone as they begin to make sense of their pain, reconnect with their strengths, and rediscover parts of themselves that may have been forgotten or hidden.
  
  I’m continually inspired by the resilience and wisdom that emerges when we create a space of safety, curiosity, and compassion. For me, therapy is not just about healing—it’s about remembering our wholeness, even in the midst of struggle. To be part of that process is a profound honour.

• Do you ever have 'bad hair' days?

  Absolutely—I have messy days, tired days, and yes, definite bad hair days too! I think it’s important to stay real and human, both in and outside the therapy room. Life doesn’t require perfection—it asks for presence, authenticity, and a sense of humour when things go sideways.
  
  Being a therapist doesn’t mean having it all together. It means being willing to meet ourselves, even on the rough days, with the same compassion we offer others. That’s where the real work—and the real connection—happens.

• What do you think is the most significant problem we face, in the world today?

  One of the most significant problems we face today is disconnection—disconnection from ourselves, from one another, and from the natural world. In a time of constant noise, pressure to perform, and increasing polarisation, many people feel isolated, overwhelmed, or cut off from their deeper values and sense of meaning.
  
  This disconnection can manifest as anxiety, burnout, or conflict—but at its heart, it reflects a loss of belonging. I believe the work of healing, whether individually or collectively, begins with reconnection: to our inner world, to each other’s humanity, and to what sustains us. When we slow down, listen deeply, and respond with compassion, real change—both personal and systemic—becomes possible.

• Can you share the name of a book, film, song, event or work of art that inspires you?

  One work that continues to inspire me is the poem “How I Became a Warrior” by Jeff Foster. It speaks to the quiet, everyday bravery of turning toward our pain with gentleness, and choosing presence over avoidance. I often share it with clients because it captures the heart of what healing can look like—not dramatic or perfect, but honest, compassionate, and deeply human.
  
  Its message reminds me that strength isn't about never breaking down, but about learning to stay with ourselves when we do—and finding meaning, even in the most tender places.