Same Heart, Different Stage: A Counsellor’s Life Between Theatre and Therapy

By day, I sit across clients as a counsellor in private practice, holding stories of grief, loss, and the quiet ache of being human.

By night (and weekends), I’m something else entirely.
A theatre and entertainment director. A choreographer. A performer.
Designing shows. Singing. Dancing. Running rehearsals. Covered in stage lights and glitter.

Last Saturday, I hosted and sang at the first round of Chingay.

Lots of noise. Sensory overload. Zero subtlety.
妆艺 = 装异
Which made me laugh a little when I received this photo.

Question - When you picture a counsellor… what do you see?

Probably not this photo.
 Flamboyant costume. Loud colours. Makeup that could outlast three seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race.
 You definitely won’t see this in the counselling handbook for sure.

Back in school, we were taught ‘NEUTRALITY’.

Neutral clothes. Neutral room.
 Hide the tattoos. No scent. No clutter.
 Even the therapist’s chair has a “correct” angle.

And I remember thinking,
 wait… am I supposed to be an empathetic houseplant?
Because if I keep editing myself out,
 who’s actually left sitting with the client?

Turns out, the parts I thought I had to hide were often the parts that helped the most.

A client once recognised me from a musical she’d seen.


We ended up talking about that character, his choices, her regrets. 
It opened a window into her story faster than any textbook question could.
That’s when I stopped trying so hard to separate my theatre world from my therapy world.
Everything is material.
Everything is grist for the mill.

People also assume grief work would be heavy all the time. Doom. Gloom. Permanent raincloud. 
But in my sessions, we laugh quite a bit too.
Grief doesn’t just break the heart open. 
It makes it bigger.
 Big enough to hold both.
Playfulness doesn’t minimise pain.
It shows confidence that pain won’t break the room.

So maybe a counsellor can wear glitter.
 And still sit grounded with someone’s heartbreak.


Maybe being real is the most neutral thing of all.


If you found this post helpful, feel free to share it with someone who might benefit!

Warmly,

George Chan

This Is How We Heal

George Chan, MCOU, is a Counsellor, Grief Educator and Breathwork Coach who specialises in helping individuals navigate grief and loss through his private practice, This Is How We Heal. With a rich background in theatre and entertainment, George brings creativity and empathy to his work. When he's not in the therapy room, you might find him performing, choreographing, or working on a new production—or spending time with Luna, his Jack Russell Terrier, who doubles as his unofficial co-therapist and production critic.

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