We were lucky to catch up with Andrew Bingman recently and have shared our conversation below.
Andrew, appreciate you joining us today. We’d love to hear stories from your time in school/training/etc.
One of the biggest challenges I had to overcome while training to become a therapist was working through my own perfectionism. As a student, I never left anything to chance. When tasked with giving presentations, I would become so concerned about stumbling over my words or saying the wrong thing that I would write a script in advance and memorize every single word so that I could recite it in class. When I received feedback from a graduate school professor that I was coming across as being “too rehearsed,” I started writing a few “umm’s” into my script and planned out moments to pause as if I was thinking about my next word, despite knowing exactly what I was going to say next.
Strategies like memorizing a script do not translate quite as well to clinical training. Psychotherapy at its core is all about the relationship between the therapist and the client, and any authentic, emotionally intimate relationship is going to be inherently messy. When a therapist is too focused on saying or doing the right thing, this becomes a barrier to genuine human connection and prevents the therapist from forming strong therapeutic alliances with clients.
I learned this lesson very early on in my training, particularly when I was a practicum student at Lewis & Clark College in Portland, Oregon. My supervisor would point out frequently that I was trying too hard in sessions and throwing out different skills and solutions before truly getting to know the client and understanding their pain. At first, my supervisor’s feedback was difficult to understand, and I would find myself feeling frustrated and confused. I was doing everything that my textbooks and research articles were telling me to do, so why was the feedback I was receiving not reflective of that. Where was the A+ I had become accustomed to receiving whenever I did the right thing in the way?
After several weeks of receiving the same feedback from my supervisor, the message she had been trying to impart finally clicked into place when I was at my most vulnerable. I revealed to her that I had been relying on skill-teaching and strategies I picked up in my textbooks because I was deeply afraid of saying the wrong thing. If I said the wrong thing, it would mean that I was a “bad therapist” and that I was failing to help my client. My supervisor responded with a statement that has stuck with me ever since. She said, “Trust in your benevolence, Andrew,” and assured me that my empathy and desire to help others would guide me in the right direction, even if that direction was messy and imperfect.
Now that I am a licensed clinical psychologist with my own practice, I do strive to keep up-to-date with the latest research and stay informed on best practices for my clients. However, my ultimate commitment to my clients is to always lead with genuine compassion and to get to know them as their whole selves, as opposed to zeroing in on symptoms or whatever challenges they might have encountered in recent weeks. The end result might not look quite as polished as some of my graduate school presentations, but what feels most important to me is that my clients know and feel that I truly care about them. Because I do.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
I decided to become a psychologist when I was sixteen years old. At the time, I was a sophomore in high school and was taking an introductory psychology course. Although I had always been motivated to perform well in classes, this was the first class that truly captured my interest. I wanted to understand and take in all of the material, whether or not it would be included on the final exam. Shortly after finishing this class, I watched the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” for the first time during the holiday break. For those who are unfamiliar, the movie tells the story of George Bailey, a man who is given the opportunity to see what the world would look like if he had never been born. Through this process, George comes to recognize the profound impact that he has had on the people he cares about and on his community overall. After seeing this movie, I felt determined to be like George and become somebody who makes an impact. Combining this with my newly discovered passion for psychology, I decided to become a clinical psychologist, and the rest is history.
Today, I have been practicing psychotherapy for eleven years and have been fully licensed as a psychologist in the state of Texas for nearly four years. I also am licensed via a program called PsyPact, which allows me to practice tele-therapy in 33 (and counting) states across the country. Last year, I opened my own practice, which is creatively titled Andrew Bingman Therapy, PLLC. Although I integrate several theoretical approaches into my work as a psychotherapist, I primarily offer a type of therapy called psychodynamic therapy. This is an approach that examines the influence of past experiences on present-day challenges and helps clients uncover subconscious motivations underlying their behavior. I utilize a multicultural framework when working with clients, and my practice is firmly anti-racist and affirming of LGBTQIA+ identities. In addition to individual psychotherapy for adult clients, I also provide assessments and letters of support for gender-affirming care.
I received generalist training as a psychologist, meaning that I am qualified to treat a variety of mental health concerns (e.g., anxiety, depression, relationship problems, etc.). However, my primary areas of specialty include LGBTQIA-related concerns, early childhood trauma, and men’s issues. As a proud member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I am particularly passionate about working with other members of my community, especially queer men who are struggling to overcome internalized homophobia. One of the reasons that I decided to open a fully virtual practice is that I wanted to be able to reach LGBTQIA+ clients who are living in rural areas and/or parts of the country where they have limited access to LGBTQIA-affirming care. The other reason for opening a virtual practice is that I get to hang out with my unofficial therapy cat, Queen, all day.
We’d love to hear a story of resilience from your journey.
When I was a sophomore in college, I was assaulted in a homophobic hate crime while walking home after a night out with some friends. The assailant struck me in the mouth with a PVC pipe, and it required both plastic surgery and my own personal therapy to heal the physical and emotional scars that I was left with following this experience. Many years later, I was a graduate student pursuing my long-standing dream of becoming a clinical psychologist, and one of the perks of my program was that we had a float in the Portland Pride parade. When I arrived to help set up the float and participate in the parade, I had one of the most profound experiences of my life when I realized that our float was constructed, in part, with PVC pipes. The very same instrument that had once been used to oppress me was now being used to uplift and empower me, while also uplifting and empowering other members of my community. This memory is one that I recall often and hold closely to my heart, especially when I meet with LGBTQIA+ clients who are working through their own trauma and oppressive experiences. Pain is an inherent part of life, and this is especially true for marginalized communities. As a queer psychotherapist, it is important for me to avoid dwelling on my pain and to, instead, use it as a source of motivation to support others and to advocate for change so that the generations of queer youth who come after me will not have to experience the same hardships.
If you could go back, would you choose the same profession, specialty, etc.?
Knowing what I know now, I absolutely would choose the same profession if given the opportunity to go back. Completing a doctoral program and becoming a licensed psychologist was a long and arduous process, and there certainly were times throughout when I felt like giving up or worried that I had made a mistake. Now that I am on the other side of that process, however, I am proud to have fulfilled a dream that I’ve had since I was a teenager. More importantly, I now have the joy, honor, and privilege of hearing my clients’ stories each day and doing work that feels meaningful and impactful. I also am now in a unique position as a psychologist to give back to the LGBTQIA+ community, which has given so much to me. If I were able to change one aspect of my career, I would go back and open my private practice even earlier. So many early career psychologists struggle with impostor syndrome and worry that they are incapable of opening a successful practice on their own. My advice to psychologists and other mental health practitioners who are questioning their readiness to open their own practice is to (as Nike would suggest) just do it. Find a specialty area and/or population that you feel passionate about, hone your craft, lead with compassion and authenticity, and the clients who need you the most will find you.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.drbingman.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gaytherapisthtx/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/andrew-bingman-31a270236/